Bree Learns to Pedal

Bree received a tricycle for Christmas last year and she totally loves her bike. I have been trying to get her to pedal ever since last Christmas, but to no avail. Something finally clicked and Bree now understands that if she wants to move, she needs to pedal.

Tonight Bree rode her bike all the way down to the other end of the neighborhood. It took her about an hour, but she had a great time.

I have more video and will likely post it in a different post. She tends to start off going backwards in order to go forward. Ah well, it works for her.

Her only "real" complaint is that I make her return home. There are a lot of tears on the corner that leads to our cul-de-sac. If she had her way, she'd be headed out of the neighborhood! At least I have her age and her size in my favor right now - she'd get pooped before she got too far - but I don't see that lasting forever . . . .

A Day In the Life (aka I Hope I Never Have This Day Again!)

The day started out innocently enough. And it seems to be ending on a fairly benign note, too. But oh, what happened in between is the stuff for which medication (or booze!) was intended.


We were at McDonald's by 9:15 a.m., hoping to get to Elmo Park right as it opened at 10 a.m. Thing were going well. Bree was almost too excited to eat. The man at the next table was curious about Bree - how old she was, how far along was she in her vocabulary, etc. His son was 5 and Bree was interested in the fact that he got to go to the bathroom by himself. The dad heard her ask me about it, and he looked at me, held up his hand and said, "this is how I did it. I just popped him one night and told him that's what he'd get if he had another accident. The next morning, he asked to go to the potty."

I was horrified. Horrified! I think that I'd be potty trained in a single day if I thought I was going to be hit for having an accident! Good grief. My outrage (and/or horror) must have been obvious because he clarified, "oh, I didn't hit him too hard or anything like that. Just enough to let him know that I meant business." Oh, thanks for clarifying. That makes me feel so much better about it. I could not get out of there fast enough. I felt so bad for his son.

We didn't have the best day at Elmo Park - we were in by 10 and out by 12. Bree threw a tantrum about having to stop playing and have lunch. So we left. She got french fries in the car on the way home. And she only slept for about 20 minutes. When we got home, I couldn't get her to take a nap. I did get her to stay on the couch, but no nap. I finally gave up and accepted the fact that our grocery shopping trip was going to be difficult at best.

Well, Bree loves to run up and down the aisles at the grocery stores. Long gone are the days where sitting in the cart and talking with Mommy was fun. I count it as a small victory if I can keep her in the same aisle as me. Normally, though, it's just me yelling for her at various points when I'm changing aisles.

So, I finally get everything in the cart and head for the checkout. Bree is running around like a little tazmanian devil, and I break out into a cold sweat. Seriously - it really does happen just like that. I realized that I had left my wallet at home. In the bag we use for Elmo Park. I forgot to put it back in my purse when we got home. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

The cashier asked me what was wrong and I told her I didn't have my wallet. So she called a manager over to start voiding my order. Then I realize that I'm holing my checkbook in my hand and I said, "Oh! But I have my checkbook! But I still don't have any i.d." So she and her manager ask me if there's any i.d. that I have in my purse. I showed them my work security badge, which had my photo and my home warranty card which had my address on it. That seemed to be okay and they took my check. That was such a relief because I wasn't going back there later with her. No way. And throughout all of this, Bree is running around the store, with the cahiers calling over to me, "your daughter is over here," or "your daughter is by the front door," or "just wanted you to know that your daughter just ran over there." I know they meant well, I also know that they're speaking in code for "can't you do something about your child?" Because they just feel the need to put that cherry on my crap sundae. THANKS!

I could not get out of there fast enough. Only to have Bree throw a tantrum because I wouldn't let her ride on whatever motion ride they have at the front of the store. Granted, the girl hasn't had a nap, needs dinner, and is at the end of her rope. This was not unexpected. What WAS unexpected was the run down of her preferred people. The list is usually the same, but we've got a new addition to the list.

Whenever I'm doing something she doesn't want, or if I'm not responding the way she wants, she will normally say, "I WANT MY DADDY!" (yeah, she screams in all caps, seriously.) Next, it's "I WANT MY GRANDMA!" followed by "I WANT MY PAPA!" and now, she's adding "I WANT MY AMY!" (Seriously, Amy, I could not make this up.) Since that was so unexpected, I started laughing. Which was clearly the wrong response. Because then she screamed, "No Mommy! NOT FUNNY!"

Well, we survived the evening. She went to bed at 7:30 a.m. Good thing she's cute. :)

A Brief Update

So we only have a few weeks left to use our Fun Pass at Elmo Park - it expires on September 7th. Although it was the hottest day of the year (maybe not but it sure felt like it!) on Sunday, we went to Elmo Park to have some fun.

Yes, Bree drinks the water. These photos will be excellent documentation when she's older and I tell her all the gross things she did when she was little. Oh, you can be sure I'm gonna use it! I need every advantage I can get with this girl.

We had a weight check on Monday: 23 pounds, 34 inches. The doctor is very pleased, as this means that Bree gained a pound in 6 weeks. We've been having some digestive issues - resulting in daily blow outs, baths, and outfit changes at the daycare provider's house. So we've been trying to get to the root of the issue. Turns out that Bree is lactose intolerant. We've cut out almost all dairy from her diet, and she's now drinking Lactaid. The explosive diarrhea seems to be under control, but now we're encountering a new issue.

Bree has quite a temper. And she does not like to be corrected or disciplined. She has discovered that she can vomit at will, and she uses this to deflect being corrected in an attempt to get sympathy or concern. I think she was more surprised than anything else when she did it the first time. But now she does it when she wants to get out of a time out.

I googled the situation and was quite alarmed at some of the suggestions. In my opinion, leaving a child in vomit stained clothing is not an appropriate deterrent. I agree that it does not give the child the attention that they're seeking, but it's also just gross. Making everyone miserable (I mean, who wants to smell that all day?) isn't a workable solution.

On the one hand, I was relieved to know that other kids do this, but on the other hand, it's a bit disappointing to hear that "it's a phase" and "they'll outgrow it." Again, not particularly helpful to me right now.

There were some good suggestions, and a book recommendation that I'm going to check out from the library. As I was telling someone, this girl is my greatest challenge, but also my greatest reward.

Bree is talking so much more these days. Some of the words that I've gotten used to, but would baffle others:

headadoctor - helicopter

bandbam - band-aid

"hadda birt day to ooh" - Happy Birthday to You (This is apparently the only line of the song she knows, so only repeats this over and over and over)

Other recent phrases:

"I'm gonna ride that horsey!"

"I'm gonna pet that dog!"

"Doctor gonna look at mah boo boos!" (I may have posted that one here already but it's just so darn cute when she says it.)

"I'm NOT a baby. I'm big girl!"

"I'm gonna show that to mah daddy." (Emphasis hers - he is her daddy and her daddy only.)

"Daddy, time for FIRE!" (When she's helping him with the grill/smoker.)

So my wash clothes are a little old and worn in spots - spots that Bree can now identify and exploit. She's learned that she can rip holes in them. Grrreeeeat. That's wash cloth number three that's she's ripped. Of course, it's wonderful fun for her - but not so much for me.

In short, she's doing just fine. We're doing just fine. It's been a good summer - one that went by a little too fast.

The Photo Session

As promised, here are some of the other photos that were taken of Bree. Now, this first picture is on here twice - I actually have three copies of this - one in black & white, one with a bronze wash, and the last with a pink wash. They're all beautiful. I'm not sure that the washes are going to be obvious, though.


This next portrait shows Bree in action. She was really interested in playing with the props this time - I think that because it was summer she was really into the beach scene.

This last one is the same as the first, but with the pink wash. Doesn't she look absolutely angelic? She's so deceptive that way! :)

We continue with our routine - to & from work/day care, Little Gym on Wednesday nights, and fun on the weekends. Bree continues to be insanely stubborn about potty training. In fact, she's outsmarting me. I finally realized that she was playing me for a sucker and using the excuse of going to the potty to get me to read to her. So I've had to put the kibash on reading more than one book while on the potty.

Bribes don't work with her either - I've offered her candy, money, and even a puppy - nothing seems to motivate this girl. I guess she'll do it when she's good and ready, and it's not going to be on my timetable, that's for darn sure!