Bye Bye Bottle

Hello. My name is Jackie and my 2 year old still takes a bottle. What can I say, the recovering Catholic in me feels the need to confess her motherly shortcomings. Believe me, they are numerous, so I'll just stick with this one for today. Daniela turned two last August and, up until a couple days ago, still took a bottle. "Isn't she your third baby?" you must be asking, "Don't you know how to do this by now?" Well, if your asking if I have my act together the answer is still no, but taking the bottles away from the boys was a breeze. Both of my boys were done with bottles shortly after their first birthdays. But there was a big difference. The boys were addicted to pacifiers, know to them as "binkies". The binky was the essential item needed to get them to sleep. I didn't dare take those away. I let them keep those binkies until they were almost three. Daniela, however, made it clear when she was a little baby that she did not share her brothers' love of binkies. So, out of desperation, I have let her keep her bottle so as not to mess with her bedtime routine. She actually goes to sleep at 7:30pm on the dot. No fussing. No waking up at night. Nothing but peaceful sleep.Who in their right mind would mess with that?

But, I know she's been playing me. Big time. She goes down for a nap, without a bottle, no problem for her babysitter and has done so for months. She is very capable of sleeping without a bottle, but she knows I'll give it to her. So like any smart kid, she takes advantage when she sees an opportunity.

Daniela's speech therapist has been subtly suggesting I get rid of the bottle since he started with her a few months ago. I've been bending the truth a bit and saying that she only takes ONE bottle at night to go to bed. The truth is that if she asks for it, I give it to her. Just doesn't seem worth the fight. But on his most recent visit, Daniela totally outed me.

She signed for milk, so we went to the kitchen and I began to pour some milk into a sippy cup.

"Nooooo!" she protested.

"What's wrong? Do you want your princess cup instead?" I tried, knowing damn well what it was she wanted.

"Uhh-uh." Daniela said shaking her head and giving me a puzzled look. She then ran to the dishwasher, opened it, pulled out a bottle and nipple, and handed it to me.

"You know, you've got a long winter break. It's a great time to work on getting rid of the bottle." her speech therapist said. Busted. Ok, ok...so I still let her have a bottle. And you've been telling me for months to get rid of it. I'm officially a non-compliant parent. I'm not doing my part. I will change. I promise. We will get rid of it. Today. For real.

So after he left. I tried to discuss the bottle with Daniela, well as much as a two year old with a speech delay can discuss such things.

"Daniela, are you a big girl or a baby?" I asked.

"Babeeee!" she said.

"No. You're a big girl." I tried.

"Yeah!" she screamed and started clapping.

OK.

"Big girls don't use bottles, so I'm going to take your bottles and give them to a little baby, ok?"

"Yeah! Babeeee!" Daniela cheered.

Hmm... I wasn't really sure if she understood any of that, but it was time to take the plunge. So I gathered her bottles and put them in the garbage bin outside. No turning back now.

Surprisingly, Daniela has never asked about her bottle since. She has signed for milk and been fine with a sippy cup. However, that 7:30pm bedtime seemed to have gotten thrown out with the bottles as well. Last night, she fell asleep with Max around 10pm and tonight, she finally went down in her own bed at 11pm. Both nights, her slumber was preceeded by several failed attempts that involved screaming fits. Hopefully, she is not forever changed.

Heaven

"Are you going to be an old lady someday?" Mateo asked me.

"Yeah, some day." I replied.

"When you're an old lady, will you be like 200 years old?" he giggled.

"No. No one lives that long." I said without really think about what I just implied. Too late.

"Wait a minute. Are you going to die?" he asked suddenly sounding quite alarmed.

"Well..." I hestiated. "Yes, but not for a really, really long time."

"But I don't want you to die! Wait! Am I going to get old and die too!?!"

There's no getting around this one. I guess I could lie...but

"Yes. But not for a really, really long time." I tried to sound reassuring.

Now Mateo is crying.

"I don't want to die! I don't want you to die! WAIT! What about Bubba!?! (his name for Max).

OK, I had to get this situation under control fast.

"It's ok, Mateo. When we die, we will all go to heaven and live there together forever."

"But I don't want to move to heaven! I like living in Las Vegas!"

Ok, that was funny. But Mateo is still pretty upset, so I force myself not to laugh.

"No, Mateo. When we die, our hearts go up to heaven and live there forever."

"Is there a Wii in heaven?"

Hey, gotta ask about the important stuff right?

"Yes." quickly reply. I mean, why not? Heaven is supposed to be eternal happiness and isn't that the definition of eternal happiness for a six year old boy.

Mateo considered this for a while and went back to watching TV. But a few minutes later, he was crying again.

"I'm still worried about you and Bubba dying." he said a single tear streaming down his face.

I went over to Mateo and hugged him tightly. My own father died when I was about his age. But, Mateo doesn't even know that I had a father, other than my stepdad who is his Grandpa. I haven't told him. Mostly because it is sad and because I'm not quite sure how my father fits into Mateo's life. I decided we've had enough hard truth for today. Thankfully, I could lie about being certain about this next one.

"Listen. Mommy and Bubba are not going to die for a long, long time." I finally reply.

"But I'll be all alone when you do die." he said.

"No. You'll have Nico and Daniela. And you'll probably be all grown up and have your own family." I add because hopefully it's the truth. The odds are very, very good that next week I will turn 32, an age my father never lived to see, and that I will live to annoy and embarass Mateo throughout his entire childhood and well into adulthood.

"And, remember, when we do die, that you will see us again in heaven, ok?"

"OK." Mateo said seeming satisfied.

A few minutes later, Mateo called, "Hey, Mommy, am I going to be married?"

"Maybe someday...but not for a long time." I replied with a smile.

The Naughty List

The great thing about Santa is that you can make him do whatever you want. The possiblitities are only as endless as your creativity really. According to tradition, one has to communicate with Santa by writing a letter and sending it through postal mail to the North Pole. But who does that anymore? I've decided that Santa is now able to recieve phone calls, emails, and more importantly, text messages. So, I've been telling the kids that I've been texting Santa. Mateo, smart as he is, has been calling me out on this.

"So what's Santa's phone number?" he demanded last week on the car ride to school.

" 555-1234" I answered back, "but it won't work if you call it. Santa's phone only works for adults."

So that brings us to today's story, our most recent communication with Santa. After a recent trip to Toys R Us with Grandma Mookie, Nico's two greatest loves have come together: Monster Trucks and the Wii. To say that he is obsessed with this game is an understatement. He wants to play it ever minute of every day with the desperation that a crack addict has for another hit. Due to the hysteria the Wii ensures for both boys, we have long ago limited the Wii to weekends only. However, since getting the Monster Truck game, Nico has started fighting me about this rule like never before by following me around the house and whining non-stop, "Can I play it now? now? NOW!?! ahhh! This is taking a long time! Why isn't it the weekend yet" (A question many of us ask ourselves repeatedly during the week for other reasons).

The thing that gets me is that Nico & Mateo play so well together when video games are not part of the equation. They play outside. They play very imaginative games with their cars and action figures. They color pictures and do play dough. All this without a problem. But if the Wii is an option, then that's all they want to do all day, and it's always a fight to turn it off, especially with Nico. Nico and Mateo get into very heated arguments about the Monster Truck game because 1. Nico must always win and 2. Nico refuses to let Maeto play anything other than Monster Trucks which Mateo is getting pretty sick of.

Today, the plan was that Max would go to his friend's house and take both boys. After being informed that he would have to stop playing Monster Trucks and leave the house, Nico totally lost it. At that point, I'd had enough. And seeing as I was going to be with the kids 24 hours a day for the next 2 weeks, I decided to put a stop to it for everyone's sake.

I pulled out my phone and texted a friend about tomorrow's bike ride. He texted me back a few seconds later.

"That was Santa." I declared. "He knows Nico is being bad and he is coming to take the Wii."

"Nooooo!!!!!" screamed Nico. "My Wii!!!! My Monster Trucks!!!!"

I walked over to the TV and disconnect the Wii. I carry it into the garage and lock the door. I quickly hid the Wii and opened the door. A tearful Nico was waiting on the other side.

"Santa just left." I said calmly, "He was very sad. He thinks you might be on the naughty list now, so he took your Wii to the North Pole. He told me he might bring it back on Christmas if he sees you are being good this week."

"OH, NO! OH NO! MY Wiiiii!!!!!" Nico sobbed as he collapsed to the floor.

"Yep, you're not going to get to play it for a long time." said a grinning Mateo who had been quietly watching this scene unfold.

"Mateo, Santa said he was sorry you had to lose the Wii because of Nico." I told him.

"It's ok," replied Mateo, "I still have my Nintendo DS"

I glanced at Max who was trying his best not to laugh.

"Santa sees you crying." Max told Nico. "If you keep crying like this, he'll probably keep the Wii."

Nico's sobs subsided into a soft whimper. Poor Nico...hope he redeems himself and gets back on the nice list by the 25th.

Priorities

Conversation with third graders about homework

"Mrs. Bisbal, what if you like don't have time to do you're homework?" asks one of my more challenging students.

"Well then you should talk to me about it. Every once in a while an emergency situations happen. You just need to let me know." I answer half distracted as I turn on the overhead projector to start reviewing the daily problems.

"No. I mean like everyday." he persists, "What if you like don't have time to do your homework everyday?"

I glance at the clock. We've got to get started. I quickly remind some students to move along and get ready to review the daily problems.

"Hmmm...sounds like you have too many things going on. Maybe we should call your mom and tell her you need to stop playing football after school." I finally answer figuring that might stop this unproductive conversation.

"No, no, no...I'm not talking about me." he quickly answers defensively, "I just mean what IF someone never had time to do their homework."

Ah, yes. Another great philosophical conversation.

"Well, I guess that person wouldn't learn as much." I suggest. I should just leave it at that. We've got to get moving with the lesson. But I can't. I have to add, "Boys and girls, homework and school work needs to be your top priority."

"What's a top priority?" asks another student. Ugh. I opened that can of worms, didn't I? Now this is a full blown conversation. So much for staying on schedule.

"If something is a top priority, it is your most important thing. Getting your work done needs to be your most important thing." I say.

"Yeah. That's the whole reason we're in school. To learn." adds one of my more dilligent students.

"No. Mrs. Bisbal. Your family should be your most important thing." immediately chimes in another boy.

"That's true. Family is important." Can't argue with that, I guess.

"No, Mrs. Bisbal, the most important thing is God." says another boy with a very grave look on his face, "God needs to be your priority." Oh, man. Did we really have to pull the Jesus card? Ok, enough. We need to get started.

"Thank you for sharing that opinion. That may be true for some people." I take a sip of my coffee and continue, "Boys and girls, your family and God and everyone else on Earth and in heaven wants you to make doing well in school your priority. Can we all argee it is important, and we need to find time for it?"

"Yes"

Finally we start the daily problems. We read the first one aloud and a hand immediately shoots up. Good. Time to get rolling.

"Mrs. Bisbal? You forgot to do the burrito count." Ah, priorities...

Rise and Shine

Saturday 5:23am

"MaaaMaaaa!!!"

"MaaaMaaaa!!!"

Daniela is up. But, unlike an alarm clock, I can't hit snooze.

"MaaaMaaaa!!!

A brief pause.

"Buuubaaa!!!"

This is her name for Max. She's given up on me, and is now hoping that he father will open her door. Unfortunately, Max is at work. So I haul myself out of bed and open her door. Daniela dashes out the slaps the living room TV.

"On!"

So I turn on the TV.

"Nooo!!!"

Apparently the episode of Diners and Dives that is on is not what Daniela had in mind. What did people do before DVRs? As Daniela see the openning to Yo Gabba Gabba she begins to jump and cheer wildly, "Yes! Yes! Yes!"

Being that she is my third child, I should know that going back to bed is not an option. Technically, I can go back to bed. But doing so will have consequences. It's not a wise choice, but I'm tired...and she is watching TV right?

Saturday 6:05am

"MaaaMaaaa!!!"

I open my eyes and see Daniela running towards me.

"Here! Here!"

She's holding something, but without my glasses I have no idea what it is. It looks like a small ball. Daniela throws it into the middle of my bed. As I roll towards it, I immediately feel the wetness seeping into the sleeve of my shirt.

I put on my glasses. It is cracked egg. The egg white continues to leak out of the shell onto my newly changed sheets. Daniela starts to jump and cheer again as I get out of bed with the oozing egg in hand.

"Eat!" she sings out.

"Let me guess," I say, "Do you want an egg?"

"Yes! Yes! Yes!"

Crazy Eyes

Nico started pre-K this year at my school. I'll admit I was a little apprehensive at first because he's not exactly a happy-go-lucky, go-with-the-flow kind of kid. Nico is basically a grumpy old man in a 4 year old's body. So, I wasn't quite sure how that would play out in a school setting.

But, it turned out to be the best thing for him. It's really helped him grow up A LOT. No complaints from his teachers, and Nico contends that school is "good" because he "tries to make happy choices". He's made friends and is very into learning the letters so he can read like Mateo.

And even though most mornings I'm on the verge of losing my mind due to watching both boys and trying to get ready for my students, Mateo enjoys having Nico at school with us. He also enjoys reminding Nico on a daily basis that he is "only in Pre-K" which by the way makes him "still little".

Recently, Nico made a turkey out of construction paper and fake feathers. He was excited to show me what he made and tell me exactly how many feathers it had. When we got home he said, "Now hang that chicken up! I don't want Daniela to touch it."

So the Thanksgiving chicken joined the Jack-o-latern,the letter S make out of glitter glue, and his star student certificate on the tack board in his room.

The next day, when I dropped him off at Pre-K, I told one of his teachers how proud he was of the "chicken" and that we hand to hang it up.

"Aren't those eyes great! They really make the turkey cute." she replied.Uh-oh. Busted. I have no idea what she's talking about I just kind glanced at the thing.

"Oh, I didn't really look very closely at the eyes, what are they like?"

"They were all different. Some had glasses, some had long eyelashes. It was interesting to see which eyes the kids picked. It really reflected their own personalities."

Hmmm. Now this got me curious to see which eyes Nico picked.

So after school I asked him, "Nico, do you remember what kind of eyes you picked for your turkey?"

"Yes. Crazy eyes." he replied.

"Oh, why did you pick crazy eyes?"

"Because everybody chases that turkey around and around and it drives him crazy. It's a mad, crazy turkey."

I know the feeling. I empathize with that turkey. Quite a fitting sentiment for the holiday season, I'd say. So when we got back home, I looked at the turkey and, sure enough, it looked pissed. I'd say his teacher's observation was correct.

Sunday Dinner

15 minutes before dinner
" I want a cookie with frosting" Nico demands.
" Not right now Nico. We're having dinner soon." I reply
"NOOO!!! NOW!!" Nico shrieks, throwing himself against the refrigerator. Daniela rushes in. She starts hitting the fridge with her hand yelling "Ow! Ow!"
Did I mention that I'm trying to cook. And that my kitchen is smaller than an airplane bathroom.
"Listen, you can have a cookie after dinner, but now you need to leave the kitchen so mommy can cook."
"Fine, go cook. And don't watch me!" Nico barks as he opens the fridge and starts looking for the cookies with frosting.
Ok, fine. This can go down the hard way. I grab the cookies and put them on top of the fridge.
"If you are hungry, you can have a cheese stick or grapes. Dinner will be ready soon and you can have the cookie after dinner."
"AHHHHHH!!!!"
Max hears the cries since we are now louder than the TV and comes into the kitchen. If you're keeping track that is now 4 people, 2 of which are hysterical, in the world's smallest kitchen. Max and Nico begin to agrue some more about the cookie. Daniela is still slapping the fridge and yelling. Max drags Nico to his room, but this does nothing to calm him down. I finally cave and bargain with Nico. In exchange for stopping his screaming, he can have one Nilla wafer. Miraculously, it works. I give one to Daniela too and they both run outside. Back to dinner.

5 minutes before dinner
"Ok everyone. Start cleaning up." I yell.
Max stays on the couch, seemingly unaware that I've said anything. Nico is outside jumping on the trampoline in his underwear reciting the Pledge of Allegiance at the top of his lungs. Daniela is drawing on her belly with a magic marker. And Mateo is playing outside with the neighborhood kids. I start herding them in, one at a time, trying to get them to pick up their toys, wash their hands, etc... Finally I give up, sit down at the table where I've put everyone's plate, and start eating by myself. Whatever, I'm hungry.

Dinner
I am eventually joined by the rest of the family. Daniela has brough her bowling game to the table and is busy lining up all the pins.
As soon as he sits down, Nico asks, "Where's my cookie with frosting?"
"I told you, you will get it after dinner."
"Aw...this dinner is yucky." he whines.
"Yeah, it's really disgusting." Mateo adds.
"What are you talking about?" I say nicely. "It has all kinds of things you like. There's meat and cheese and vegetables..."
"YUCK, YUCK, YUCK...I want a cookie." says Nico.
Max and Nico start to agrue about the cookie again. I look at Daniela and tell her to try some of her dinner to which she shakes her head and continues to set up her bowling pins.
Finally a compromise is reached and Nico agrees to eat 4 bites of his dinner because he is 4 years old. Make as much sense as most things he says. Then he will have a cookie. He eats his 4 bites and then changes his mind that he would like ice cream instead. You can guess what Mateo and Daniela did when they saw the ice cream.

3 minutes into dinner
We are all sitting, nicely and calmly, at our kitchen table. Max and I are eating the casserole I made. The kids are all eating bowls of ice cream. A peacful silence settles over us. Just the way I pictured my family Sunday dinners.