Birthday parties a year ago used to give me heartburn. Not major "oh we just can't go," or anything, but I always had to pack food. I would bring G a sandwich and his snacks and his own juice because there was no way he would eat anything they offered. Most of our friends understood but the other party participants never did. Kids would say things; "you don't eat pizza?" They don't mean anything. They just really don't understand.
So then I got to the point that I left his food in the car, and he'd eat on the way home. Or we'd stop and get chicken on the way home. A few times they'd have fruit or crackers type stuff and he would eat those things. But anyway, for the most part, a year ago, I went everywhere with a packed lunch box.
I don't have to do that anymore.
It's amazing. My friend S***** has been informed and actually remembers and cares about G and his issue. I don't think she could say eosinophilic esophagitis but if someone else said she'd probably say, "oh my friend's son has that!" She was at the party today and one a few weeks ago, and when she sees him eating the pizza she looks at me and smiles. He's eating it, she says. She knows it's huge. Her daughter was in G's 2yo pre-k class. Her daughter has a peanut allergy. I guess we've bonded over basophils and eosinophils.
It's pretty neat to be able to go to restaurants and feed him off the menu. It doesn't always go well. But the more we do it the better it gets. I'm hopeful. I guess that's all I can remain. Hopeful. We're still in the woods, and it still gets scary, but we keep walking. (Have no idea why this came to mind, but it did).
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening, by Robert Frost
They are adorable. D is going to be 2 in like 10 days. He is a pistol. He wants to be treated just like G, but he doesn't listen as well as G and doesn't mind as well as G, so it becomes a problem. G will stay within eyesight in the store, D will run off and hide in the clothes laughing manically. D is a good boy and wants to be good but his understanding just isn't there yet. He thinks if G gets down to go get something, he should be able to get down and go get something. But G looks for people and says excuse me please, D runs into legs and trips and falls and pulls things off shelves.
I hold him to too high a standard, which is easy to do since he is just so advanced. He's talking in full sentences, he's getting himself dressed (with help but way, way, way better than G was at this age) he feeds himself, he puts away toys, he lets the dog out, feeds the dog …
But then he'll throw himself on the floor in a fit and just scream. For no apparent reason. I have to remind myself when I'm mad at him … he is still. Just. One. He is not two yet!
He walks up to me and grabs both sides of my face and gives me kisses. I have no idea where he learned his. He still likes to cuddle and when he is tired or cranky he has to - has to - sit with mommy until he feels better. He says mommy, maude-y. This morning when he woke up he said, "can I get up Maude-y?" He's not two yet.
I really like how he says mommy. I mean it gets old when it's over and over, and at loud volume, but it's cute.
He plays with other kids much better than G ever did, shares better, says "have to take turns!" But oi does he get mad. His temper is awful. And he's kind of a bear because he gets mad and he just puts his head down and rams into whoever he's mad at. If you catch it you can say, "D temper!" and he'll just start crying.
I discipline more than some. I put him in time outs for whining. I put him in time outs for annoying me. I put him in time out for fighting. I put him in time out for not playing nice. I put him in time out when I have to cook and he wants something. "You need a break, please go to time out."
Who am I kidding. There's no please.
There's more to share but I'll save that for his "I'm 2!" update. I can not believe he's almost 2.
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