Cereal for Dinner?

I was in the kitchen, conversing with Pat, who also works with Nils. Nils and Annika were both in the room with us and it was nearing dinner time. Nils went over to the counter and picked up a box of Peanut Butter Panda Puffs, a delightful gluten-free cereal. I'm not really sure who opened the cereal, but they mutually agreed that it was a good thing to eat at that particular moment.
Nils said, " I want some cereal."
O.k. He wanted some cereal. Cereal for dinner? Admittedly, I eat cereal for dinner sometimes, but it's not normal for Nils and Annika to do so. I told them that we would have dinner soon, but did not take the cereal away. I'm glad I didn't because what happened next was way too interesting.
As Annika snacked on the cereal directly from the bag, Nils held onto the box and proceeded to tell me what he needed.
" I need a spoon."
"Good job, Nils. That's right. You eat cereal with a spoon." I was happy to hear him request a spoon. We had recently had a discussion about forks and spoons and cereal in one of our work sessions. As I commented on this to Pat, Nils went over to the silverware drawer and produced a spoon. He came back to the table and set it down.
" I need a bowl."
Pat and I both looked at him and then looked at each other. We were thrilled that he was requesting these things. Requesting missing items, or as Skinner would say, "manding" for missing items, is something that we had decided to work on with him when we had our conference several weeks ago. He really is better at this than we realized.
Of course, Pat and I were having a great conversation about his manding. Nils did not care about our conversation. He still needed a bowl. He walked over to the kitchen counter and looked up at the cupboard that held the bowls and said again,
" I need a bowl."
I went and retrieved a bowl for the child, who promptly put it with the spoon on the table. He then climbed up into his chair, looked at the bowl and the spoon- I could see the gears turning in his head-then looked at me and proclaimed, with his hand in the air,
"I need some milk."
Ah, milk- the final component- I was just absolutely thrilled at what was taking place. And then the problem- milk. Nils cannot have regular milk, and in vain I searched for his special milk.
Annika had been adding bits and pieces to this conversation, while munching on the much desired Panda Puffs. I looked at the bag she held and saw that approximately 6 little puffs were in the bottom of it. I poured them into Nils' bowl and told him that the milk was all gone. I then proceeded to make him toast with peanut butter, which he highly approved of. We'll have cereal another time.

Nils Responds to the Question

Last night I was quite amused at the dinner table when Annika was again asking the famous question referred to in my previous post. She was posing the question to her brother. At first, he was simply repeating it, over and over.
"Are you happy or sad? Are you happy or sad?"
Then he answered it in an unexpected way. He started "crying". He put his hand near his mouth and made crying noises. He was showing me "sad", as he has had to do many times in our tutoring sessions. He knows that "happy" means that someone can be smiling or laughing, and "sad" means they might be frowning or crying. So, he answered the question by showing us the answer. Now, he wasn't really sad- this I realized because after his demonstration he started laughing and once again repeating the question. He was, I believe, rather proud of himself for answering the question for his audience in such a way.
And, I must admit, I was rather proud of him, too- as well as highly entertained!

"Are You Happy?"

This is a question I hear all the time. And it comes from the mouth of a 2 year old. It happens to be one of Annika's favorite phrases. Sometimes it is voiced unexpectedly.
"Are you happy, Melody?"
"Yes, Annika, I'm happy."
Twenty minutes later- "Melody, are you happy?"
"I'm happy, Annika. Are you happy?"
My question to her is met with various replies.
"Yes, I'm happy, too." OR
"No, I'm not happy. I'm sad." And there is always some reason why she is not happy.
Sometimes I know the question is coming. If I for some reason am lecturing either Annika or Nils about something, I can almost always count on Annika to say in a concerned tone,
"Are you happy, Melody?"
And to this I must respond honestly.
"No, Annika. I am not happy. I am upset because you are not listening to me." OR
"I would be happier if you and Nils were not fighting."

The happy question often makes me laugh. Sometimes I wish that I did not have to hear it fifteen times a day. But when I really think about it, it's not so bad. In fact, every once in awhile it's slightly convicting. Am I happy? Do I have reasons not to be happy? Just this past Sunday, we were reminded of the well known, and yet many times ignored, passage in Philippians: "Rejoice in the Lord, always." Always. There doesn't really seem to be a way out of that one. I am always suppose to rejoice in the Lord. I could be having an awful day, but my duty is to rejoice in Him. After all, He is saving me, sanctifying me, making me more like Him.
Now this doesn't mean that I'm always going to obey. In fact, I know some days I will fail. But maybe that's why Annika is always asking me if I'm happy. And even if I'm not always happy- because sometimes I am lecturing fighting siblings or chasing runaway children, etc., etc., etc. -I should still be rejoicing in the Lord because of what He has done for me.

The Saga Continues.....

When I arrived at work yesterday, I was met by an interesting, and somewhat haunting, sight. In the kitchen, 2 little children were sitting on potty chairs. Each child had a small chair in front of them to use as a desk, and upon each desk sat a Magna Doodle. Imagine being able to doodle while you.....doodle. Well, only one doodle was happening in the kitchen, and it wasn't the potty kind.
The great pooper had yet to make his contribution of the day, and mommy was determined that whenever it came, it would be deposited in the potty chair.
I had arrived for a tutoring session- he remained on the potty for the session. While we worked, I kept checking the potty, but an hour and a half later, nothing had come.
I returned to the house in the evening-still nothing. He sat for another hour or so on the potty watching T.V. We watched Veggie Tales and Winnie the Pooh. He drank juice and ate nuts. Was this a case of constipation or stubbornness?
After dinner he was back on the potty. Mommy decided to take him outside for awhile. I had visions of poop in the grass and runaway children. When I looked out of the window, I saw him walking around in the yard naked. Mommy was calmly following him with the potty in her hands. By the time they came inside only a little pee had made it into the potty. It was now almost 7:00 at night- how long could he hold it?
Next idea- put the diaper on him for few minutes and watch him closely. Surely as soon as he had the protection of the diaper he would go. It worked- sort of. He started to go and mommy whipped the diaper off and put him on the potty. He stopped. The trick was repeated. I caught him this time as soon as the funny look crossed his face. A tiny bit of poop had made it into the potty. Where was the normal stuff? He was driving us crazy!
We gave him some privacy. Still nothing. We finally had to give up for the night. Mommy was exhausted, and I was going home. It had been a long day.
The poop did finally come. When I showed up for work today, daddy filled me in on the poop scoop. It came early this morning- not in the diaper- a good sign, right? Not in the potty- o.k. not a good sign. It ended up all over the carpet in the T.V. room.
And I think, for now, enough has been said.

Well, I'm not sure what I am doing, but I just created a blog. Why? I don't know. It seems to be the thing to do right now....... Some people think I have interesting stories to share, mainly because I spend most of my time with children. Children constantly amaze me- their words, actions, facial expressions, body language, you name it. I always love them, although sometimes I really don't like them! But they definitely make life just a little bit happier, a little bit more interesting, a little bit sweeter.

So here is an attempt at blogging. I may utterly fail when compared to other, more experienced bloggers......well, I'm not claiming to be good at it, so read at your own risk.

A Potty Training Story


Potty training- those words can strike fear into the hearts of many. But, alas, it must be done somehow, someway.
August 23, 2005- I entered the house at 8:30 am. There were 2 trainers, 2 trainees and a baby present. We could handle this. Famous last words. The 2 children were sitting in the T.V. room- both were on a little potty, naked, with a cup of juice. They were being entertained by a video- “Once Upon A Potty.” They had been sitting there for about an hour with no excitement. Pretty easy so far for them- sit, watch a show, get to be naked- fun stuff for kids!
I put in a new show for them, and they continued to sit. They were getting a bit restless, so we decided to take them outside for a little while. We took the potty chairs with us, of course, and put some underwear on the children. We stepped onto the back porch, and immediately liquid poured out of one set of training pants. The other child lasted another minute or two- all the way to the swing set, in fact. Sorry little potty chairs- you will have to wait a bit longer to be useful here. The wet underwear came off, and the children were allowed to play in the yard, wearing only shirts. They were having a delightful time running around…. when it happened. What exactly was “it”? “It” was messy and smelly and ugly- “it” was POOP. I saw the child standing still, and he was smiling as he did the dirty deed. I yelled and ran into the house for some baby wipes. Perhaps I should have taken him with me, but I really did not want poop all over me. While I was running for the house, he and his sister were running through the yard laughing.
I re-entered the backyard armed with a box of wipes and help. Quickly scanning the totally fenced in yard, we realized that the children were gone. We called their names, thinking they must be hiding. Then suddenly we heard the laughter of children….coming from the neighbor’s yard. We glimpsed the open back gate and ran for it! The escapees were happily playing on the slide. We each grabbed a child by the hand and started walking, lecturing as we went. Anyone looking out of the neighbor’s window would have seen 2 women with 2 bare-bottomed children, quickly exiting the scene. We neglected to check the slide for signs of poop, but the pooping culprit was covered in it. Back in our own yard, we discovered more poop here and there in the grass. I went around with a plastic bag and baby wipes retrieving the mess so that no one would step in it.
We made an executive decision that outside time was over. The potties and the children were brought back inside to the T.V. room, and another video was inserted into the player. The juice cups were refilled, and we again had to wait. This time I had a difficult time keeping Mr. Pooper on the potty. He kept jumping off and running around. Then I discovered the floor in front of his potty to be quite damp- obviously I missed something. I went to get some carpet cleaner, and when I came back he was hiding behind a chair- laughing, of course. I went to pick him up and he started peeing on the floor. I managed to get him on the potty before he finished, and he looked down in amazement as the rest of his pee went into the potty.
By this time, little sister was getting tired of sitting. She got off the potty, walked though the living room, and left a big puddle on the wood floor. Thankfully it was now time for lunch. We put diapers on the children and took them to the kitchen. Now we just had to tell mom and dad about the success we had achieved. I looked down at the baby smiling happily in her high chair and breathed a sigh of relief- she would be in diapers for quite awhile yet. As for big brother and sister- well, I’m sure there is a Plan B.