"Rough with playmates, hitting and pushing"

Ugh. This was on Esther's note from daycare yesterday. "Playing rough today, hitting and pushing playmates." Nothing quite makes me feel like I should get the Bad Mom Award like a note sent home from school.

Even worse, the hitting isn't limited to school. She hits me, Gram, and even her little cousin, whom she adores. It doesn't seem to happen when she's mad, or otherwise provoked.  Really just because she's in the proximity of your face.

The other day I made her leave the playground because she hit her cousin, and, when I had removed her from the vicinity of her cousin, me. The screaming of her cousin's name and "Graaaaam!!" (who was also there) lasted for quite a good chunk of the duration of the saddest stroller ride ever. When the wailing stopped, I knelt down in front of the stroller and reiterated, "we don't hit." "Hitting hurts."

Here at home, I am introducing the time-out concept. I'm not sure I have the right spot picked out because she just hops down and follows me into the other room like, "Dude, why did you put me in that chair?"

Any wisdom on toddlers who hit? Or toddler discipline in general?

Grandmom Esther

My mom's water heater flooded the basement recently. Unfortunately, this resulted in a bunch of wet family artifacts. The silver lining is that Mom went through the artifacts and she and the rest of the family are getting to look through this stuff for the first time in ages (or even the first time ever!).

Most of the images I've seen of Grandmom Esther (mental or photographic) have been of her in the nursing home, old and frail. There were a few of her in various homes for birthday parties when I was super-young, but even then, she was in her late eighties.

This one is from Halloween when I was super-young, I don't have a memory of this at all.

(See the water damage in the corner?)

So it was pretty exciting to be looking through the pictures and run across pictures of Esther as a young woman. 

Here she is with her parents-in-law on the stairs of someone's home.

In naming my baby Esther after Grandmom Esther, I somehow feel closer to Grandmom Esther. I hung a picture of her over baby Esther's crib and it reminds me that she is looking down on her.

A letter to my daughter in the future

A letter to my daughter in the future:

'via Blog this'


A funny and honest conversation with her kid's future self.

Esther, ditto what she said!
Love,
Your Mom

One Billion Rising II

RISING

Written in Kerala for the women of India who lead the way

This could have been anywhere

And was

Mexico City

Manila

Mumbai

Manhattan

Nighttime men

waiting

like wolves

Drooling

for prey

behind

that single dimly painted door

paying nothing

a couple of  dollars

or euros

rubies

or pesos

to have her

Enter her

Eat her

Devour her

and throw away her bones.

This could have been anywhere

And was

A Buddhist nun on a bus

Trying to stay dry for the night

A woman leader speaking out against

The repressive government

A young woman traveling with her boyfriend

One lost her voice

The other her following

The last one her life

This could have been anywhere and was

Pink wooden crosses

A stack of stones

Red wilting carnations

Empty chairs in a square

Ribbons flying in a sultry wind

I ask Anna Nighat Kamla Monique Tanisha Emily

Why Why

Porque Eran Mujeres

Parce qu'elles étaient des femmes

Because they were women

Because they were women

This could have been anywhere

And was

Where she got fired for being too beautiful

Fined for drinking after she was raped

A serious offer to marry her rapist

Got told it was legitimate but not forcible

This could have been anywhere

They do such a thing

When the girls go for fire wood

Step into the lonely man’s car

Drink a little too much at the college party

Wake up with her uncle’s fingers inside

Run from the screaming machete and guns

Be taken at sunrise

Get a bullet in the brain for learning the alphabet

Be stoned for falling in love

Be burned for seeing the future

I am done

Cataloguing these horrors

Data Porn

2 million women raped and tortured

1 out of 3 women

a woman raped every minute

every second

one out of 2

one out of 5

the same

one

one

one

I am done counting

And recounting

Its time to tell a new story

It needs to be our story

It needs to be outrageous and unexpected

It needs to lose control in the middle

It needs to be sexy and in our hips

And our feet

It needs to be angry and a little scary the way storms can be scary

It needs to not ask permission

Or get permits or set up offices

Or make salaries

It wont be recorded or bought or sold

Or counted

It needs to just happen

It is not a question of inventing

But remembering

Buried under the leaves of trauma and sorrow

Beneath the river of

semen and squalor

vaginas and labias

shredded and extracted

stolen

body mines

mined bodies

It is not about asking now

Or waiting

It is about rising

Raise you arm my sister my brother

Raise your one

Billion

Your one heart

Your one of us

I used to be afraid of love

It hurt too much

What never happened

What got ripped away

The rape

The wound

And love 

I thought

was salt

But I was wrong

I was wrong

Step into the fire

Raise your arm

Raise your one

Billion

One

One

One

Rising.

Rising.

Rising.

Eve Ensler for One Billion Rising

One Billion Rising

One Billion Rising is an event calling attention to violence against women and demanding an end.

Different statistics say that 1 in three or 1 in four women in the world will be assaulted in her lifetime. That's 1 billion people, and it's not ok. As Esther grows up, she is one of those three or four, so it is important to me to do what I can to put an end to it now. I plan on participating at the event in Philadelphia, and I urge everyone to find an event near them and participate.

I'll post more about this as the day comes.

Separation Anxiety

Separation anxiety is a regular part of growing up. It happens whenever a child takes some step that further differentiates her/him from her/his parents. So when Esther really got the hang of crawling and when she started walking, for instance, she also developed some separation anxiety.  The anxiety comes from a lack of feeling safe in the world without the "safe one" or parent.  Of course, she eventually learned that she is basically safe when she crawls into the other room: I am still in this room and still here for her. Same with walking, except, of course, when she walks into stuff or off of stuff...

Separation anxiety also rears its ugly head when I really am leaving her somewhere. Sometimes she would cry when I left her in the church nursery (not often, she eventually thought it was her own playroom with bonus friends), the times she first had to start or change a day care, and especially at the YMCA (that one is another story for another post).

Lately, with the back and forth between her dad and me, I've been worried about separation anxiety for Esther. She's also beginning potty training, which is one of those, I'm-growing-up-so-I-need-you-less-Oh-my-God-where-are-you?! things.  Being the book-lover that I am, and knowing she's too young to just sit down and talk it out, I am once again resorting to books.

Most of the story books in the separation anxiety department are about young kiddos going to school. Esther  (after the first day or two of surprise that she's in another new place) loves school. When I drop her off, she starts saying bye-bye immediately and keeps at it until I can finally get her coat off, hang it up, and get out the door. She is like a twelve-year-old. I'm pretty sure her first sentence will be, "Um, mom, can you just drop me off here, I'll walk the rest of the way." Or, "Ew, mom, don't kiss me in public!"

Anyway, school isn't our problem. Our problem is, she's away from daddy for a few weeks at a time and then she's away from mommy for a week at a time.

I Love You All the Time  is cute. It chronicles two bear parents doing things throughout the day, like going to work, being on the phone while bear cub is looking bored, and bear cub going to bed. It reiterates, "I love you all the time," and cubby is reminded, even when parent-bears aren't paying direct attention to you, they still love you.

You Go Away is another one that covers the gamut. It starts with peek-a-boo, which is the beginning of addressing separation anxiety, because baby really does think you've disappeared behind that blanket. It goes on to hide-and-seek, stepping away from the grocery cart for a second, going to work (parents), going to school (kiddos), and finally, mom and dad go someplace on an airplane. It has the most simple language. "Away. Back" "You go away. You come back." This allows for me to interpret what Esther and I see.

The Kissing Hand is sweet but maybe a bit too old for Esther right now (we read it anyway). In it, the Mama raccoon is getting the baby raccoon ready for school, and baby raccoon (cub? pup?) is sad to leave Mama behind all day. She kisses his paw and tells him that whenever he's missing her, he can hold the paw up to his cheek and remember her kiss is there. It's really sweet. There's one confusing thing: raccoons are nocturnal, so baby goes to school at night. I don't know why this messes me up, but it does every time! Also, there's a really sweet/cute (ok, and also predictable) ending, which I will not spoil for you here.



That is just the start. I'm a book-a-holic, and some part of me thinks I can fix anything with just the right picture book. Esther has at least two more, and I bought one for myself that arrived in the mail today. I'll let you know what I think.

J

Blow! Blow! Blow!

One of the favors for Esther's birthday party is a hankie. I know nobody uses handkerchiefs anymore, but the monkeys in the book do! This page was the inspiration, obviously.

By the way, this is how we get Esther to blow her nose.  I give her a tissue and say, "Hands with handkerchiefs!" She says, "Bow! Bow! Bow!"

I chopped up the book (gasp! I know!) and scanned a few of the pages for decorations at the party.  I cut out the monkey in the front and scanned him in all by himself.

I also printed out the words. I printed them all together, monkey and caption, and used up 8 of my 10 pages of Ink-jet-to-T-shirt transfer sheets.

I was about to start cutting them out when I realized I hadn't printed them backwards.  (You put the transfer sheets face-down, so they have to be the mirror image of what you actually want to see.)  So I used those last two pages to print the words. Doesn't it look funny?

Ok, on to the business. I ironed the transfers onto the hankies. I put it on the hottest setting and didn't use water. Steam makes the ink run. I kept the iron moving, but kept the heat on the image for 30 seconds to a minute each.  Of course, follow the instructions on whatever brand of transfer stuff you use.

Lay the images face-down and Iron! Iron! Iron!

The final product. Kinda cute, if I do say so myself.