Potty Training

Tanya expressed her ideas about toilet training.  I think she meant well, but it came out a bit snarky, anyway.  In Russia, she explained, a mother's first job is to toilet train her child.  She said it was very important, especially since blankets and sheets had to be washed.  Pampers changed all that she lamented, since it is so easy to let them go.  She even asked for a potty and to start training. 

Is it just me, or does that sound like a sly way of her saying that I don't know what I'm doing?  I don't want to think that way, but I feel it.  My own research tells me that you can "train" but that you will not be accident free until a certain internal milestone is reached.  I don't think that he's anywhere near ready and that putting him on the potty will freak him out. He won't sit for it.

So she wants to try. I don't care.  I talked to TF about it, he said get the potty, let her do it, and ignore her.  He also said that I should ignore her drama over Tyoma's crying, because it's not about me, it's about Tanya and how she feels.  This maybe true, but I can feel the tension and it makes me feel like a prisoner in my own home.  It's been less than two weeks and I am ready for her to go back to Moscow.

Quiet Afternoon

More spooky organizing.  Tyoma has been stacking letters on window sills all day.  They aren't arranged in any particular order, but he seems to take such joy in the process.  It's rainy and sweet smelling outside. I love our new home!

Naps

I am about to loose my mind. I feel angry, frustrated and a teeny bit hopeless. 

Tyoma is having trouble sleeping.  He won't nap during the day and he's waking up at night.  I remember sleep problems last time Tanya visited, but that was long ago.  He's older now.  But as soon as she visits, his behavior is whack.  It seems like he can't sleep because he gets too excited.  He needs calm and quiet, or just to be ignored until he cries it out.
It seems like sleep always gets messed up when Tanya's here.  I think it is because she does not respect my way of doing things.  When he was a baby, I'd have to shoo her out of his room at night and during the day. She disrupted everything. I dunno, it just seems like I need to be doing the same thing I always do for sleep and when she's here he cries more and he's upset more. But we must keep to our little schedule that he is used to, otherwise it makes it worse and he gets even more wound up.

She tells me that she raised two boys and that she knows.  Well, I've done a fine job raising Tyoma who slept just fine before you came, thankyouverymuch. I have little clouds of cartoon steam coming out of my ears now.  I hate drama in my home.  I hate that she makes a big deal of swishing out of her room on to the back porch so she can't hear him cry. Ugh.

If that was not bad enough, he's skipping his nap. So now he's not sleeping during the day and he's having trouble sleeping at night.  It's just getting worse. The move was easier on him than her visit.  I think because I was in control and I didn't change any rules to placate her.  I hate that she dramatizes his crying as if I am killing him. Its all about her and how she feels and not about how we do things  here and keep order. 

No one listens to me. TF stays uninvolved. I am making an appointment with a pediatrician to get some support. Grrr, grrr, grrr.

Words

I feel like I am the only one who is concerned that Tyoma is not speaking much.  They say that mothers just know when something is not right with their child. So I wonder. Is his pattern of losing words and not saying much a big deal? Is he not learning to speak because I get and do everything for him?

Still,  when I consider my neurotic, imaginative disposition, I realize this is probably nothing. Mom thinks it's nothing. Tanya thinks it's nothing, too.  When we were in 'Cruces she said that E didn't speak until he was older than two.  Now she says she can't remember,  but boys always talk later.  She has dozens of anecdotes about it. I need to chill.

But!  When I consult google, I realize that he is behind. He is nowhere near using two word sentences, he barely uses one word consistantly.  It is so strange.  He'll blurt out some random word and it sounds incredible, but then its gone into the abyss.  I should not be too worried, though.  He knows what things are.  We have lots of picture books and he can point to the pictures correctly.  He also knows at least 12 colors--he can pick them out across a variety of places. He knows the letters of the alphabet, especially X which he points out with much enthusiasm everywhere we go.

Tanya Arrives

Tanya arrives from Moscow today.  I hope that our visit goes well, I expect so since there is so much I need to do and her help will allow me to get stuff done without taxing Tyoma.  He does not like to shop or go out much.

I can't believe that we are mostly moved in! I was able to get so much done when mom was here, but a multitude of boxes still remain, unopened, unorganized.

I feel so scatter-brained.  The hardest part of moving is finding a new permanent place for all the stuff we use.  I can't keep track of my car keys, purse or scissors since they don't have a "place" yet.  this is so frustrating.  It will all come together, but it's harder than you think to know all of the places in your new home and to transmit onto this new space a map of where your old stuff used to go. Labels. I need lists and labels!

Love From Tyoma!

Obviously it took two of us to spell this, but he added on his favorite letter "X" as a personal touch!

Budding Klee?

Hmmmmmm. Tyoma has been making little mosaics all around the house. It has been very curious and unexpected. He lines up his blocks into shapes and patterns, like this little composition. I like it. It might be random, it might be the start of some untethered artistic ability that we all have inside of us.

Tyoma has been lining up his unit "triangle" blocks in long undulating waves. Beautiful and a touch unnerving. Wish I had a picture. It is so strange to shift my gaze from him playing on the floor and return to seem his little projects.

First Spring in New Hampshire

Ahhh Spring!!!
Today, Egor's mom planted flowers, while I distributed the vibrantly dyed mulch favored in New England to to the flowerbeds. It's a shock to the system to see workers rapidly blowing swaths of orange-red mulch from the bellies of huge green trucks. It's like they're airbrushing people's landscaping with Pine-sol scented granola.
 
Yesterday, the moving company hauled off a garage full of debris. Most of the trash was from our move--459 folded boxes, 24 trash bags of wadded up wrapping paper, plus a box or two of stuff that we should have tossed in New Mexico.

But the former owners left their legacy of odd stuff behind for us to discard. Almost all of the window treatments were dumped, along with a gargantuan refrigerator-sized brass chandelier which we kept knocking our heads into. We rid ourselves of three big boxes full of tacky Patriots memorabilia, primarily window stickies and strange outdoor decor items such as Patriots football-shaped stepping stones and a Patriots garden gnome.

Initially, I assumed that they were out of their minds, imagining that the new owners would be thrilled to find Patriots welcome mats at every entrance. But in reality, moves are a bitch, and they probably thought, "Screw it, we're moving to Florida and we'll have to change teams anyway to get along with the neighbors, so bye-bye Patriots wind chimes!" Heh. So, here it is! Our debris-free, freshly mulched home!

Pear!

OMM NOMM NOMM (sorry, too many hours of flipping through Photoshop Contests at Fark !)

Voodoo Gears

After Tyoma's quiet time, I found this arrangement of toy gears in his room:
 

  

I don't know why this seems so strange to me, but it looks spooky for some reason.