How do you know that you drink too much?
So earlier this week, I came home from work from my incredibly stressful job and in the ensuing minutes, I came to the abrupt realization that I've been drinking too much.
Every day, I come home from work and Fiona comes running, squealing with joy, crowing "Ma Ma". And then as soon as she gets over to me, she starts pouting and whining, saying "Nak", making the "milk" sign. She has learned that even though I'm home, she won't actually get milk until I get settled (which can range from removing my coat and shoes, to going potty, changing into my pjs, going over important mail and yes, even grabbing a beer), so she starts campaigning early to let me know that she really needs milk RIGHT NOW or she might just DIE.
So Wednesday afternoon, I get home from work and I'm sifting through the mail, talking to the nanny finding out how the day went and Fiona was standing at my feet, whining "nak, nak" (I had been acknowledging her, I said hi, gave her a hug, acknowledged that she wanted some milk and that I would sit down with her in a minute), when she clearly got a good idea. She stopped whining and ran over to where I had left the book I have been reading (I usually read while she is nursing when I come home) and then turned, walking towards me purposely, holding the book out towards me as she comes, chanting, "Nak, nak". Once I took the book from her (thank you), she headed into the kitchen and reached for the refrigerator door. I had a sinking feeling, but I went and helped her open the door. She started looking at the bottom shelf (where my beer has been stored lately), but my beer had actually been moved to the door. It didn't take her long to locate it and she pulled out a bottle of beer and took it over to the bottle opener fastened to the wall. By now, I'm feeling pretty small. I opened the beer and she carried it for me over to our traditional "feeding chair", I mean, after all, she's gotten me all the things I need: my book and my beer, so now it must be time for "nak". I followed her over to the chair and she climbed up, saying a hearty "bye" to the nanny (who wasn't quite ready to leave yet, but Fiona was just making it clear that her job here was done and she should leave now, so Fiona could have her mom and the "nak" all to herself).
And for me, having a beer once in a while is okay, but when my toddler comes to the realization that the afternoon routine includes a beer as a necessary component to her getting her "nak", I think that's a problem.
Luckily, I finished my last beer last night, so hopefully I can keep it out of the house for a while. Because while drinking a beer can be nice, I also don't want to get into the habit of drinking to relax from my hateful job. I need to find other ways to unwind and let go of that little slice of hell on earth.
In a completely separate happening at our house lately, which also deserves mentioning here:
For most of Fiona's life now, Dad has been in charge of bath time and despite the fact that he had some unpleasant water experiences in his youth, when he washes Fiona's hair, it seems like he does his best to drown her.
So Monday night, Dave was watching Heros on TV and I decided that I needed a shower. Fiona decided she wanted to take a shower with me, even though I really wanted her to wait until I was done, so I could just give her a bath. She's still a little short to enjoy the shower. She wouldn't hear of it though, so she nearly drowned herself in the shower, trying to look up at me in the spray. Once I helped her figure out that the key to the shower is to face AWAY from the shower spray, she began to enjoy it.
When I was done showering, I stopped up the drain and we sat down for the bath portion of the evening. I was trying to explain to her that when we wash her hair, if she would look up, the water would run down her hair and not get into her face. But it seems pretty counter-intuitive to look up as someone is holding a bucket of water over your head, especially since her experience is that when it comes to hair washing, she gets drowned. So I had to demonstrate on myself how it worked. She seemed very interested, but still didn't trust me. She did, however, want to wash my hair for me (which I had already done for myself during the shower portion of the evening). I let her soap me up with her shampoo and then she got the bucket for rinsing. I put my head back for her and she proceeded to dump the entire contents of the bucket directly onto my face! Then she immediatley started laughing.
I was sputtering, but I totally got her point, you know? This is how it feels for her to get her hair washed in our house. She dumped 3 buckets full of water into my face, laughing each time (I got better at holding my breath each time so I wouldn't drown), but after the third time, I said something to the effect of - "I understand that this is how you feel when we wash your hair and I don't like it very much. I think that you don't like it much either. Thank you for explaining this to me. Now, can you please rinse the shampoo out of my hair for me?" And she proceeded to get another bucket full of water and she rinsed my hair perfectly without getting any water in my face at all. It was pretty damned amazing. The whole encounter.
So Tuesday night, Dave gave her a bath and there was all sorts of screaming during the hair washing portion of the evening, but I didn't interfere because Dave and Fiona have to have their own relationship and they need to develop that together without me micro-managing it for them.
Wednesday night, Fiona needed another bath (it's been a bit of a messy week) and she wanted me to take a bath with her. When we got to the hair washing portion, she filled the bucket and handed it to me, then she tipped her head back for me to get her hair wet. It was another phenomenal moment for me - I just think it is totally amazing that I can have these meaningful moments of clear communication with my child who is not even 2 years old yet. I never hoped for this much, maybe it's through ignorance that I didn't think it would be possible to have this kind of communication with Fiona at this age, but I am so glad that we have pursued it and that it has been so successful.
So this weekend we are headed to Tri-Cities, I hope I'll come home with photos to post.
Peace.
Every day, I come home from work and Fiona comes running, squealing with joy, crowing "Ma Ma". And then as soon as she gets over to me, she starts pouting and whining, saying "Nak", making the "milk" sign. She has learned that even though I'm home, she won't actually get milk until I get settled (which can range from removing my coat and shoes, to going potty, changing into my pjs, going over important mail and yes, even grabbing a beer), so she starts campaigning early to let me know that she really needs milk RIGHT NOW or she might just DIE.
So Wednesday afternoon, I get home from work and I'm sifting through the mail, talking to the nanny finding out how the day went and Fiona was standing at my feet, whining "nak, nak" (I had been acknowledging her, I said hi, gave her a hug, acknowledged that she wanted some milk and that I would sit down with her in a minute), when she clearly got a good idea. She stopped whining and ran over to where I had left the book I have been reading (I usually read while she is nursing when I come home) and then turned, walking towards me purposely, holding the book out towards me as she comes, chanting, "Nak, nak". Once I took the book from her (thank you), she headed into the kitchen and reached for the refrigerator door. I had a sinking feeling, but I went and helped her open the door. She started looking at the bottom shelf (where my beer has been stored lately), but my beer had actually been moved to the door. It didn't take her long to locate it and she pulled out a bottle of beer and took it over to the bottle opener fastened to the wall. By now, I'm feeling pretty small. I opened the beer and she carried it for me over to our traditional "feeding chair", I mean, after all, she's gotten me all the things I need: my book and my beer, so now it must be time for "nak". I followed her over to the chair and she climbed up, saying a hearty "bye" to the nanny (who wasn't quite ready to leave yet, but Fiona was just making it clear that her job here was done and she should leave now, so Fiona could have her mom and the "nak" all to herself).
And for me, having a beer once in a while is okay, but when my toddler comes to the realization that the afternoon routine includes a beer as a necessary component to her getting her "nak", I think that's a problem.
Luckily, I finished my last beer last night, so hopefully I can keep it out of the house for a while. Because while drinking a beer can be nice, I also don't want to get into the habit of drinking to relax from my hateful job. I need to find other ways to unwind and let go of that little slice of hell on earth.
In a completely separate happening at our house lately, which also deserves mentioning here:
For most of Fiona's life now, Dad has been in charge of bath time and despite the fact that he had some unpleasant water experiences in his youth, when he washes Fiona's hair, it seems like he does his best to drown her.
So Monday night, Dave was watching Heros on TV and I decided that I needed a shower. Fiona decided she wanted to take a shower with me, even though I really wanted her to wait until I was done, so I could just give her a bath. She's still a little short to enjoy the shower. She wouldn't hear of it though, so she nearly drowned herself in the shower, trying to look up at me in the spray. Once I helped her figure out that the key to the shower is to face AWAY from the shower spray, she began to enjoy it.
When I was done showering, I stopped up the drain and we sat down for the bath portion of the evening. I was trying to explain to her that when we wash her hair, if she would look up, the water would run down her hair and not get into her face. But it seems pretty counter-intuitive to look up as someone is holding a bucket of water over your head, especially since her experience is that when it comes to hair washing, she gets drowned. So I had to demonstrate on myself how it worked. She seemed very interested, but still didn't trust me. She did, however, want to wash my hair for me (which I had already done for myself during the shower portion of the evening). I let her soap me up with her shampoo and then she got the bucket for rinsing. I put my head back for her and she proceeded to dump the entire contents of the bucket directly onto my face! Then she immediatley started laughing.
I was sputtering, but I totally got her point, you know? This is how it feels for her to get her hair washed in our house. She dumped 3 buckets full of water into my face, laughing each time (I got better at holding my breath each time so I wouldn't drown), but after the third time, I said something to the effect of - "I understand that this is how you feel when we wash your hair and I don't like it very much. I think that you don't like it much either. Thank you for explaining this to me. Now, can you please rinse the shampoo out of my hair for me?" And she proceeded to get another bucket full of water and she rinsed my hair perfectly without getting any water in my face at all. It was pretty damned amazing. The whole encounter.
So Tuesday night, Dave gave her a bath and there was all sorts of screaming during the hair washing portion of the evening, but I didn't interfere because Dave and Fiona have to have their own relationship and they need to develop that together without me micro-managing it for them.
Wednesday night, Fiona needed another bath (it's been a bit of a messy week) and she wanted me to take a bath with her. When we got to the hair washing portion, she filled the bucket and handed it to me, then she tipped her head back for me to get her hair wet. It was another phenomenal moment for me - I just think it is totally amazing that I can have these meaningful moments of clear communication with my child who is not even 2 years old yet. I never hoped for this much, maybe it's through ignorance that I didn't think it would be possible to have this kind of communication with Fiona at this age, but I am so glad that we have pursued it and that it has been so successful.
So this weekend we are headed to Tri-Cities, I hope I'll come home with photos to post.
Peace.
posted by Chaos @ 9:39 AM
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