Category: News

When we were at Trader Joe’s on Tuesday, Liam was given a balloon of his choice (he chose white).  Because of the incident from the previous balloon-gifting visit to TJ’s, I decided to put it in the trunk to ensure everyone’s safety.

When we got home, I found that Liam had emptied half of the contents of his water bottle onto his crotch and down into his carseat, so immediate de-pantsing was required when we got home.  As such — I put him in the house and brought the groceries in as quickly as possible.  As I was doing this, the balloon floated out of the trunk, but I didn’t have a free hand to grab it, so I left it to float in the garage.

When I left to go to the park on Wednesday, I noticed that somehow the balloon had lodged itself between the open garage door and the ceiling of the garage, with the string hanging down through one of the openings in the garage door.  I assumed that it would end up getting popped by the mechanism of the garage door opening and didn’t think anything more about it until today.

As we were getting ready to leave, I opened the garage door.  Liam always cranes his neck around to watch it open.  I hear this from the backseat as I’m beginning to back out:

“Ooooh!  White balloon fell down!  White balloon!  Oh, yay!”

Then I heard the unmistakable popping sound that could only be the demise of the balloon.  I didn’t say anything about it and hoped that Liam wouldn’t remember what he’d seen when we got back.  I wasn’t so lucky with this one.

As were pulling into the garage the following conversation began:

Liam:  Oooh!  White balloon!  Where’s the white balloon!  I want the white balloon, please!

Shannon:  I’m sorry, kiddo — I think it popped when I was pulling out of the garage earlier.

Liam:  Let’s go see balloon, please.

Shannon: [takes Liam over to the spot where the balloon is now one with the garage floor] Here it is, buddy.  I’m sorry about that.

Liam:  It’s broken.  We can’t fix it.  We can’t fix it.  I’m so sad.  I’m so sad.

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I want to go out and buy him a huge bundle of balloons that I know he won’t even care about because that was just so heartbreaking to hear.  I’ll be a puddle on the floor when his feelings are hurt for real reasons.  Ah, parenthood.

Okay, so I admit to regularly watching Supernanny.  I’m not overly proud of this, but I’m also not particularly embarrassed by it.  It just is what it is.

Every week I watch families with insane discipline issues (99% of the time easily traced back to the parents).  It’s very easy to diagnose from the comfort of my own stable home.  The editing makes it even easier to see what the issue is, even without experience.  It’s designed so that most people can understand what’s going on (kind of like newspapers which are written on a 3rd grade reading level in order to appeal to the masses).  This isn’t rocket science.  As such, I don’t usually go into a tizzy while watching.  There’s a reason these people are on Supernanny: either they’re bad parents, they truly want help and don’t know where they’ve gone wrong, or they’re looking for the paycheck the show provides (or a combination of the three).

The episode I watched tonight (TiVoed from last week, I think) truly took the cake.  In this episode there is a mother who is 25 and living with her two boys (6 and 4) in her parents’ home.  The grandmother stays home with the children all day while mom goes off to work.  When she does get home from work she appears not to do much more than send text messages, play video games, mess around on the computer, and watch television.  She lives rent-free.  When Supernanny (Jo Frost) was going through the routine with the family, she asked who would be the one to get the boys up and ready for the day.  After a very long silence (with grandma clearly waiting for mom to step up) the mom’s response was (through the power of TiVo, these are direct quotes):

Mom:  “I dunno.”

Supernanny:  “What do you mean, you don’t know?  Who do you think should be doing it?”

Mom: “me, but I want to sleep, too. [nervous laughter]”

Supernanny: “Excuse me?”

Mom:  [more nervous laughter] “I do like my sleep [even more nervous laughter] but I have to, so…”

Supernanny:  “These are your kids, right?”

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Cut to the trip that Supernanny planned to take this girl (I would call her a woman, since she’s 25 years old, but her actions clearly prove that she’s still a girl) to a shelter for homeless families with the expectation that she could teach a lesson about having proper gratitude for the fact that her parents have given and appear to be continuing to give her so much.  In her follow-up interview she had this to say about going to the shelter and talking to the director about the services offered:

“I didn’t really know why Jo wanted me to sit there and listen to what this lady had to say.  I didn’t know what the point was.”

When asked if she wanted to take a look around, she shrugged her shoulders as if to indicate that she didn’t want to tour the shelter.

Supernanny:  “What, you’re not feeling it?”

Mom:  “I don’t care.”

Supernanny: “Really?”

Mom:  “I mean, we can, it doesn’t matter.”

[Seriously–she actually said this.  She was sitting in a homeless shelter where she could very well be living if it weren’t for the extreme generosity of her parents and she not only was too dense and/or too self-absorbed to understand why she was there, but she couldn’t even act interested long enough to tour the place.  Then–the real kicker–she pulled out her phone while the poor director was trying to tell her about how important this program is and started TEXT MESSAGING.  Right there while the woman was trying to talk to her.  SERIOUSLY.]

Mom:  “I know that people don’t have as much as me, but I didn’t think it was necessary for me to have to go the homeless shelter.”

[Really Mom?!  Really?]

Then Supernanny took her outside and spelled it out for her and called her spoiled and told her that she’s not at all grateful for what she has.  Supernanny was much nicer than I was being while watching the thing.

Later on, Supernanny had her write down things about her parents for which she’s grateful.  Her mother actually cried because her daughter never thanks her for anything.  Matt and I don’t believe spanking is an effective form of discipline–but if I had a grown daughter who was acting like that I’d want to lay her over my knee for sure.

P.S.  I would like to take this opportunity to publicly thank my parents, my grandparents, and my Mo and Pok for all they’ve done for me over the years.  No one should have to go on Supernanny to have their children and grandchildren say ‘thank you.’

I’m glad I got that off my chest.

[Scene:  This morning we were in the Publix stocking up on staples that are BOGO this week.  We finished and headed for the check-outs where Liam’s favorite checker (Miss Shelly, as he knows her) had only one person in front of us.]

Miss Shelly:  Oh Hi, Liam!  How are you today?

Liam:  Oh, there’s Miss Shelly!  I LOVE Miss Shelly!  Miss Shelly!

Miss Shelly:  I love you too, sweet boy.

Liam:  Liam loves Miss Shelly.  Miss Shelly loves Liam.  Yay!

[At this point the Mutual Adoration Society meeting was interrupted by another checker who came over to tell us that she had a free lane open–so we began to follow her to her aisle.]

Liam:  Bye bye, Miss Shelly.  I love you.  I see you later.  Gotta go pay.  Gotta go home.

Miss Shelly:  Bye sweet Liam!  See you next time.

[Liam then turned his attention to our new checker.]

Liam:  [Pointing at the new checker who initially didn’t know she’d interrupted a lovefest.] Who’s dat?  What’s her name?

Miss Debbie:  My name is Debbie.  What’s your name?

Shannon: [after a long pause from Liam]  Liam, can you tell Miss Debbie your name?

Liam:  My name is Liiiiiam.  I’m two!

Miss Debbie:  Wow, that’s great!  It’s very nice to meet you, Liam.

Liam:  Miss Debbie?  Miss Debbie, I love you, too.

Miss Debbie:  That’s very nice, Liam.

Liam:  I LOVE Miss Debbie!  We’re gonna go pay!  We’re gonna go home!  It’s wet outside.

[We finish checking out and are walking out of the store.]

Liam:  Bye bye, Miss Debbie.  Thank you so much.  I gonna go home.  I wanna play with trains.  Trains go choo-choo-choo-choo!

Miss Debbie:  See you later, Liam.

Liam:  Thank you so much!  See you later!  Bye bye Miss Debbie.  I LOVE Miss Debbie.  See you next time.

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While this was happening it was both hilarious and adorable.  While typing it I realize that Liam sounds a little like Rain Man.  It may have been a little of both.

This morning Liam and went to the park for a few hours to enjoy this weather one last time before the rain moves in.  There were two nannies there with their charges (I know they were nannies because the kids called each of them “Nanny” and unless that was some sort of unbelievable coincidence, I’m going with my educated guess here).  All the kids played well together (with the exception of the little boy — who I was told is 2 and a half — who informed Liam that *he* would be driving the fire truck and not Liam and then tried to angle is way in on the steering wheel — but he also stopped dead in his tracks when I informed him that there was plenty of room for both of them to play together on the fire truck and got over himself pretty quickly).  It was a beautiful morning and lots of fun was had by all.

My learning moment came when Liam started whining (it’s his new thing, joy of joys) because I wouldn’t do for him what he can do for himself (this time it involved walking down the steps of the playstructure — which he’d done as recently as 30 seconds before the whining commenced).  I told him that “Mama doesn’t respond to whining, it’s obnoxious.”  The nanny who was standing next to us as this happened said “Saying you’re not responding *is* responding, you’ve gotta just walk away.”  She was (obviously) absolutely right (and I said as much).

I know that parenting is vastly different from nannying.  I’ve now done both, and I can attest to that fact (although I knew it on a different level before).  Nannies have the luxury of being somewhat removed from the situation, which makes it much easier to see a problem and correct it.  Liam’s my baby.  I don’t get to leave at the end of the day (although sometimes I’d really like that opportunity).  This isn’t a job I can quit.  What I need to work on is reviving a bit of the nanny in me, because as Liam gets older and tests more things, that part of me will come in very handy.

Baby steps.

[Scene: We’re in the Trader Joe’s getting our weekly haul]

Shannon: [Picks up some bagels and puts them in the cart]

Liam:  Oh!  Bagels!  I LOVE Bagels!  Mmmm.  Mmmm.  Tasty.

Shannon: [Picks up a package of fresh pasta and puts it in the cart.]

Liam:  Oh!  Crackers!

Shannon:  Actually, this is pasta.  Remember we had some of this kind last week and you really liked it?

Liam:  Oh!  Pasta!  I LOVE Pasta!  Let’s buy some.

Shannon:  Sounds good.  [Puts a bag of trail mix into the cart]

Liam:  Oh, that’s trail mix.  I love’a de trail mix.  So yummy.  Dere’s chocolate in dere.

Shannon:  That’s right–there is chocolate in there.

Liam:  OH!  It’s a balloon!  It’s a white one!  I LOVE balloons!

Shannon:  That’s right, there are balloons over there.

Liam:  I want that, please.

Shannon:  Well, sometimes we get a balloon and sometimes we don’t.  We’ll just have to wait and see. [Puts a bag of pretzels into the cart.]

Liam:  Oh!  That’s pretzels.  I like’a de pretzels.  So tasty.  Mama, I so HONGRY.

Shannon:  It’s 10:45 and you finished breakfast an hour and a half ago.  You’re gonna have to wait until we’re finished shopping to eat.  Okay?

Liam:  Okay.  No eat.  [Gesticulates wildly towards a display of tortilla chips].  Oh!  I LOVE chips!

Shannon:  I know you do.

Liam:  Mama?  Do you know what?

Shannon:  What?

Liam:  I LOVE…MAMA!  I love you so much!

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There are some things about toddlerhood that I won’t miss, but it’s happenings like this conversation that I’ll try to hold on to for as long as possible.  It’s such a sweet age.

[Scene: Liam and I are sitting at the table finishing up our breakfast.  Liam lets out an enormous toot.  He actually jumps a little bit in his seat and looks truly surprised by what has just happened.]

Shannon:  Liam, what do you need to say?

Liam:  That’s Dad.  Did you hear that?  I hear Dad!  Where’s Dad?

Shannon:  Well actually, I was looking for an ‘excuse me.’

For Christmas, Liam got a new two-step step stool.  He can now reach the sink to wash his hands and brush his teeth, which is very helpful.  What’s not very helpful is that he can apparently also reach the medicine cabinet on the wall.

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[Scene: Matt and Shannon are both in their bedroom.  Liam is wandering around the house.  Shannon hears an unfamiliar noise coming from the next room, a bit of a crinkling sound, but unlike any crinkling sound she’s ever heard from Liam.  Matt goes to investigate.]

Matt:  LIAM!

Matt:  Liam.  NO TOUCH!  We don’t play in the medicine cabinet.  Ever.  No touch!

[Door to bathroom closes solidly.]

Shannon:  What happened?  (Granted, I know that this is a stupid, stupid question.)

Matt:  In case you were wondering, Liam can open the medicine cabinet and everything inside.

Shannon:  Awesome.

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My question now is what should I do with all of the potentially harmful things that are in the medicine cabinet?

Matt has this dream of building a shelf around the entire periphery of the office for holding CDs.  I’m thinking that a similar shelf for medicine may be necessary in the bathroom.  I guess this is an upside to having ridiculously short ceilings–I won’t need a ladder to reach everything…

On Monday at Liam’s 2-year well-check the nurse asked me about his eating habits.  I ratted him out on not eating enough fruits and veggies (you can lead a boy to a bowl of strawberries, but you cannot make him eat).  Since we returned home from the doctor’s office he has eaten the following (in addition to his new found love of peanut butter): apples, bananas, cranberries, raisins, blueberries (literally by the pound), applesauce, grape tomatoes, broccoli, and peas.  In massive, mind-blowing (as well as colon-blowing, unfortunately) quantities.  I wish I’d ratted him out on potty training.  And maybe international peace brokering.