Tag: toddler

  • Ivy Thoughts Part 1

    Ivy Thoughts Part 1

    As a parent, you can’t remember a fraction of the funny things your toddler says. Here’s a list of things I’ve remembered from the past few months. Any parent will love and relate to this. And I imagine non-parents will find at least one of these things pretty funny.

    List of fun things Ivy has said recently:

    Ivy with a puppet

    She has an obsession with puppets. Everything is a puppet. Feet, books, toys, real puppets, waffles. You name it, I promise it can be a puppet.

    She hands me a real puppet, that can be put on my hand, and says, “Here, say, ‘me a puppet.’”

    Later I ask, “Oh, did you make me some food?” She replies, “No. It’s for puppet.”

    The other day I was writing in my journal and Ivy was hovering over my shoulder.

    Ivy doing a puppet show

    “Do you want a sticker?” She asked.

    “Sure, I’ll take a sticker,” I replied without looking up. I continued writing.

    “Do you want a sticker?”

    “Yes, Ivy, I’ll take a sticker.” I don’t look up and continue to write.

    “Do you want a sticker?”

    “Yes,” I say and finally look up. She’s staring at the journal. “Oh.” I shake the journal like it’s talking, “Yes, I’ll take a sticker.” She looks pleased and starts putting stickers on my journal while I write. She was just going to sit there and talk to my journal until I got it through my thick skull that she wasn’t talking to me, apparently.

    She then said, “Foot want a sticker, puppet?”

    The journal has to shake and say, “Yes, of course foot wants a sticker.”

    She then puts multiple stickers on my foot and says, “That’s better.”

    On the “ignoring me” note. Sometimes I’ll say stuff to her, and she’ll just stare straight ahead and ignore me.

    The other day Beth said, “She doesn’t do that with me. She only ignores you like that.”

    It wasn’t twenty minutes prior that Ivy was saying something repeatedly over and over and I ignored her and said, “I can play the ignore game indefinitely.” I wasn’t being mean. She was just talking nonsense over and over in my direction and I wasn’t paying attention. If you’re a parent of a toddler, you understand.

    Like I said, it was 20 minutes later that I was asking a question straight to her face and she ignored me like a pro. Deadpan. Stared straight ahead. Like she couldn’t even hear me. I said to her, “Learned behavior, I respect it.”

    Ivy ignoring me like a pro

    The other day she woke up from a night’s sleep. I walked into her room and said, “good morning, how are you?” She looked up at me from her pillow, sat up, and said, “I want to cook. Anyone want food?”

    She also wants to be referred to as a teacher pretty constantly. Throughout the day if you call her Ivy she’ll reply, “me a teacher.” You then have to call her teacher to get a response.

    Ivy Teacher

    Toddler hack that I don’t know will work on any other toddler. Like I said, she loves puppets for some reason. Her love goes so far as to be respect, apparently. Ivy is pretty good about bedtime: brushing teeth, putting on diaper, putting on pajamas, and getting into bed. But, if we do have trouble with any of those steps, if a puppet gets involved and asks for the teeth to get brushed, she’s immediately compliant. I don’t know if she loves, respects, or fears puppets more.

    We are on the tail end of potty training, she’s pretty much there. The other day I put her on the potty and told her to let us know if she needed anything. I left her stool at her feet and walked out. This wasn’t the first time I’d done this. What made this time unique was Beth and I, from the couch, could hear her in the bathroom singing. Then suddenly *clapping. “Is she clapping?” We said to each other.

    She walked out, shut the door behind her, and said, “me pooped.” She gave herself a round of applause, shut the door, then came out to exclaim that she had pooped.

    The other day she started teaching Sage how to pray. She grabbed Sage’s arms and folded them and whispered, “Heavenly Father. Thank you. Amen.” Then she said, “Good job Sagey!”

    I was at a restaurant with Ivy after a basketball game and the person I was with was asking if she wanted brown or white rice in the bowl Ivy and I would be sharing. I thought about it and said brown. He said he thought kids preferred white rice. I said that was probably true, but I was being selfish. That was it. End of discussion about brown rice. For the past 4 months Ivy, every single day and night, when in her room and she’s playing with her kitchen, asks us if we want brown rice. She’ll come up and put her hand on your knee or shoulder and say, “You want brown rice Daddy?” I almost never get my brown rice, for the record.

    On the topic of somehow picking up on something and never letting it go. I had this book I was reading that Ivy got ahold of and drew all over the cover with black sharpy. You’d be amazed at how calmly I took this. Anyway, one day I had the book and I said to Ivy, “Ivy, this book is so good. I might give it to my friend Zach. What do you think he’ll think of your additions?”

    The destruction

    I don’t remember her response. What I do remember is every time she’s seen that book since she’s asked, “Daddy give to Zach?” Zach then became somewhat of a celebrity in our house. She’ll just randomly be like, “Does Zach have knees?” (Real thing she asked). Along with tons of other random statements and questions about Zach.

    This is just the beginning of Ivy Thoughts. I’m already well into Part 2. More to come. Hope you enjoyed!

  • Parenting and Consequences of Choices

    Parenting and Consequences of Choices

    Sunday morning we were supposed to sleep in. We were going to church at a later time to join Beth’s family since her sister Eve was in town. Any parent knows how it goes when you’re hoping to sleep in. It’s like the kids have a sixth sense for your hope and immediately squash it. Sage woke up at 6:30 and Ivy was up at 6:45. This, for the record, is much earlier than even Sage, who isn’t a great sleeper, usually wakes up.

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    Beth brought the girls out to the couch. I was tired and groggy.

    In true teamwork fashion, Beth and I decided to split up. I went back to sleep for an hour while Beth hung out with the girls. My hour felt like 5 minutes and I was back with Ivy and Sage while Beth got her additional rest before the day got into full swing.

    I took Ivy and Sage into Ivy’s room.

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    Long story short – Sage was ready for a nap and unhappy about everything and anything. Ivy, the newly potty-trained, walked over to her bed, laid down, and had an accident in her bed. I learned that when I went to lay Sage in Ivy’s bed to rest and saw it was wet. I tried to feed Ivy a banana while Sage screamed and I cleaned up wet sheets and blankets. Ivy took the piece of banana I’d given her and threw it across the room. I tried to stay calm and asked her not to throw food. As I continued to clear off pee-covered sheets and blankets, Ivy walked to where I’d left my breakfast – the rest of the banana and a peeled orange – and proceeded to throw it all over the room.

    That’s when I lost my patience.

    Voices were raised. Toddlers were told to stand in the corner. Stern words were spoken. Sage was still screaming.

    I lost my temper.

    It was then, standing with Sage in my arms screaming, Ivy naked from the pajama shirt down, crying in the corner, that I started to take deep breaths.

    It was then that I started trying to assess why my temper was so short.

    “I’m usually better than this,” I thought to myself. “What’s going on? Well, I’m tired, obviously.”

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    Wait, why was I tired? (Well, besides always being tired).

    Flashback to the previous night. Beth had taken Sage in to sleep, and I stayed on the couch. I thought about reading but then came across a movie on TV that I hadn’t watched in a long time. It was Super Bad. I have long cut rated R movies out of my life. But this was made for TV. All the curse words had been cut out. That didn’t make the movie a productive use of time to watch. I ended up staying up way too late watching this stupid movie.

    I remembered all this as I stood with a screaming baby and a crying toddler, after I’d just yelled and not handled Ivy’s outbursts and energy nearly as well as I would have liked.

    I realized I had no excuse for my behavior. Why was I tired, grumpy, and now losing my temper? Because I’d stayed up later than I should have. There are all the excuses – I deserve some time for myself, I deserve to be able to relax, I haven’t stayed up late for myself in so long, on and on. Was it the worst thing in the world for me to stay up late and watch a movie for myself? No. Was it the worst thing in the world, the next day, to yell at my daughter because I was now grumpy? No, but it felt like it.

    My choices had consequences.

    There was no excuse for how I had lost my temper with my girls.

    I kneeled down by Ivy in the corner. My extended rocking of Sage had calmed her so she was quiet for a moment. I spoke to Ivy calmly and slowly, “Ivy, I just got very frustrated. I’m sorry. I should not have yelled. Will you forgive me?”

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    Smile.

    “Yes, Daddy.”

    I continued to tell Ivy that I get frustrated when she doesn’t listen and throws food. I told her I love her so much. I asked her to please help me the best she could and I’d try to be better too.

    I sat with Sage on the floor and rocked her to sleep. Ivy, seemingly a completely different child, sat at her table. She got her laptop (a little pink toy), and a stack of books. It was calm. I realized I hadn’t meditated yet, something I usually do first thing in the morning. I asked Ivy if it was OK if I closed my eyes, meditated, and took some deep breaths.

    “Yes, Daddy.”

    I set a timer, closed my eyes, prayed, and breathed for 10 minutes. When I opened my eyes, Ivy was quietly reading books at her table.

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    I am off the charts blessed with my two girls. I love them so much. They’re amazing. Ivy is such a good kid. She is strong, patient, kind, gentle (most of the time), and smart. Sage is in a bit of a difficult stage. You can tell she wants to crawl and move and do so much. But she is so happy, smiley, and bouncy. My two girls are amazing.

    I’m grateful for them. I’m grateful for how they teach me to grow and be better. I’m grateful for their patience with me. That moment when Ivy said she forgave me, man… what a feeling of love. Not just my love for her, which is endless, but also her love for me, which is clearly unconditional.

    This was another parent and life lesson. My choices have consequences. I can do dumb stuff like stay up late and watch a movie. But I CAN’T take it out on my girls in the morning because I didn’t get enough sleep and now I’m grumpy.

    It’s OK not to get enough sleep. It’s OK to be grumpy. It’s even OK to lose my temper sometimes. It’s OK for me to struggle. But it’s not OK to not give them my absolute best. It’s not OK to make excuses why it’s OK for me to lose my temper and yell at them. That’s not OK. Every action has consequences. It’s not their fault that I stayed up late.

    I love them so much.

    This parenting thing is hard, rewarding, growth-inspiring. I’m grateful for it. I’m grateful for every moment. The good and the bad. I love it. I love them. I love my family.

  • Flagstaff, Falling out of Bed, and Adversity

    Flagstaff, Falling out of Bed, and Adversity

    We were in Flagstaff after New Years. We drove up the morning of 1/2/23 in a brand new year. We met my family, who drove from Las Vegas, for lunch. My family included Mom, Dad, Dresdan, Kodi Joe, and Easton. After lunch, we found some little hills at a park to go sledding. Ivy loved sledding. It’s possible she loved it a little too much. The moment the sled stopped at the bottom of the hill, and sometimes before the sled even stopped, she would be saying, “again, again, again.” If I paused a moment to catch my breath she’d get upset.

    After sledding, we went back to our hotels to get cleaned up. My family came to our hotel and we played games.

    The next day we went sledding again. It was interesting how quickly Ivy turned on sledding. She was excited to get out there, and after we went down one hill I received the normal, “again, again, again.” After the second time down the hill, she was done.

    “Do you want to go again?” I asked.

    “No.”

    Just like that, Ivy was done sledding. We did a little more sledding, which she tolerated. Then Ivy saw the park and swings that were nearby. All she wanted to do was swing after that. Ivy loves swings.

    We all had lunch after sledding and parted ways. The drive to Las Vegas is nearly four hours and it was pretty stormy. It had been snowing for some time and the temperature was around 25 degrees.

    Beth and I sat in the parking lot trying to decide what to do. We were in Flagstaff primarily for a St. Mary’s basketball game. We still had some time before we needed to be at the gym. The plan had been for us to drive home after the basketball game. Beth was worried about driving home after it had been raining and snowing with the roads being icy. My lack of concern came not from bravery but from a complete ignorance of snow.

    Beth had strong feelings against driving home at night on unsafe roads which trumped my blissful ignorance. We audibled to finding a hotel room for the night and then went to the gym.

    The team was late due to bus troubles but ultimately arrived safely and we were able to have a basketball game. All I’ll say about this game was Flagstaff High School, on top of having a very good team, also had a significant home-court advantage. You try getting a bus of Phoenix high school girls that never see snow to focus on a basketball game after driving up in a snowstorm. After the game, the Flagstaff High School team looked confused as our team ran outside to roll around in the snow. We overheard, “they must not see snow much” as we walked to our car.

    We checked into a new hotel that night. Hotels with Ivy are fun. She gets so excited. She likes to walk around the room and be present with the whole family. Ivy and I share a bed while Beth and Sage get the other.

    Sleeping in the same bed as Ivy is an extreme adventure. I never know when I’m going to get kicked or slapped. Every time I wake up and look at Ivy she’s in a completely different position.

    At some point in the middle of the night, I awoke to a thump sound on the opposite side of the bed. You know how when you’re awoken by a noise, it usually takes your brain a minute or two to understand what it just heard? That didn’t happen with this sound. I knew exactly what happened the moment my brain woke up to it. I can’t remember how I got to the other side of the bed. I don’t know if I jumped to all fours on the bed like Spiderman and leaped to the other side, or if I jumped off the bed and ran around. It was most likely the latter. However I got there, I arrived before the tears even started.

    I found Ivy’s shape on the floor with my hands as it was pitch dark and I couldn’t see anything. I scooped her into my arms as she started to cry. I held her head to my should and told her it would be ok. As I rocked her I told Ivy that we were going to get back in bed but I would hold her and she would be safe. She stopped crying immediately and said, “yes.” We got back into the bed and I slept the rest of the night with Ivy in my arms.

    As I thought back on this, I was struck by something. I was struck by how quickly Ivy stopped crying. The moment I told her I was going to hold her and she was going to be safe, her simple reply “yes” and she was completely at peace. I was so glad I could be there for her and make her know she was safe.

    I think in this life we can often feel like God isn’t there to hug us and make us feel safe as quickly as we’d like. I think we forget that in God’s time, His reaction is instant. It just feels longer for us. I believe God is always there ready and willing to wrap us in a protective hug, whether we realize it or not.

    Another thing I was struck by was how quickly I reacted. If there was ever any doubt in my mind about whether I would jump in front of a moving vehicle to save my daughters, that doubt is gone. I would throw myself in front of danger for my girls without hesitation. I know that.

    Back to that Flagstaff High School basketball game, I wasn’t skimming over the details of that game only because I wanted to move creatively through the story. I didn’t want to talk too much about how badly we got our butts kicked.

    We’ve had mostly close games this season and a couple bad blowouts to two of the best teams in Arizona. Thinking back on that game, I realized how proud of the team I was. The first half was the lowest low. Our team gave up and practically stopped playing. Their heads were down and they were resigned to a bad loss. We had a serious talk with them at halftime about doing their best no matter what the score was. I pulled some girls aside that were leaders on the team and told them I was disappointed in their reaction to losing. I told them I knew they were disappointed, frustrated, upset, and embarrassed; so was I. But they had to be leaders, stay positive, and encourage their teammates.

    The second half we were like a different team. We still weren’t the better team, but we were a better team. I got slightly emotional thinking about how big a turnaround those girls showed in the second half. Instead of continuing to pout and give up, they encouraged each other and really tried to be better.

    I don’t get emotional like that thinking about the average game. It’s the intensely adverse games that I think back on and get very proud of our teams.

    I would never wish for Ivy to fall off the bed. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t kind of glad it happened. It was a chance for me to see how quickly I would react to the pain of my daughter. It gave Ivy a chance to see I am there for her and I will protect her. Will I always be able to react that quickly? No. But Ivy is starting to learn I am always there.

    I think this life is about learning God is also always there.

    Would I ever wish my basketball team to get beaten by an obscene amount of points? Of course not… except, well, it gives them the greatest opportunity to grow. Getting blown out is a real opportunity to see what kind of person each girl is. I truly believe getting blown out in a basketball game is teaching those girls a valuable lesson about getting your teeth kicked in in real life and how you react to it.

    Moth’s come to a flame because it is warm and comforting. While the flame is warm and comforting, eventually warmth and comfort make you stagnant, and before you realize it, you’re stuck or worse, burnt. It’s the adversity and challenges in life that shape us and keep us on our toes.

    Adversity can give us amazing opportunities to see what kind of person we are. It’s easy to be kind, encouraging, and happy when life is all good and nothing difficult is happening. It’s a little more challenging when life is throwing all the roadblocks your way.

    I know (Doctrine and Covenants 121) that this is how God feels about adversity. He doesn’t love that we have to go through it, but He knows we have to go through it.

    Adversity is our greatest opportunity to see what we’re really made of. As I get older and more “mature” I can say with more and more honesty that I am grateful for adversity as it gives me the best opportunity to find out what kind of person I really am.

  • Float

    Float

    If you’re a parent and ever get frustrated with your kids (every parent), especially if they are younger kids, you need to check out the Disney short called “Float.”

    It’s only 6 minutes long and can be watched on Disney+ or HERE.

    I have to remind myself often that Ivy is constantly experimenting. Everything she does is an attempt to understand the world around her. She’s never really trying to make a mess or destroy things. She’s only trying to see how that food that’s thrown will splatter and land.

    This Disney short reminds us that all children are unique and special. No matter how challenging our children are, we must remember they’re the greatest gift in the world. Every so often I have to pause and watch Ivy and think how amazing it is she is what she is. She was nothing 3 years ago. Today she is a living, breathing, experimenting, ever challenging, extraordinary person.

    I have to constantly temper what I think I want from Ivy.

    I want her to be confident, but I like it when she is quiet and reverent in public, especially at church.

    I want her to be independent but one day I’ll desperately miss her wanting to hold my hand.

    I want her to want my attention. Unless I’m busy.

    I want her to laugh and have fun and show joy. Unless it’s too loud.

    I want her to ask for help when she needs it, but I want her to do things she is capable of without me. At the same time, like the hand holding, one day I’ll desperately miss when my babe needed my help.

    All these contradictions we go through as parents.

    This is a short post just to be a reminder to all parents that your children are special. What makes them difficult and challenging is what makes them special. We aren’t meant to change our children. I actually think they’re meant to change us.

    Watch Float.

  • Another Toddler Experience

    Another Toddler Experience

    I hope parents learn from their toddlers. I learn from Ivy all the time. Here is a simple example.

    Today we were all sitting on the couch. Sage was cradled in my left arm. Beth was sitting to my right with Ivy in her lap. Bengie, our aging dog, was between us.

    Ivy was doing peaceful mother-daughter stuff with Beth. Seemed boring to me. Plus, I was getting bored with what I was doing on my computer. So I reached over and poked Ivy. It was intended to be a tickle, normally Ivy’s favorite. But in that moment of peace, she did NOT like it. She scowled at me and turned away.

    I apologized for an improper time to play. Ivy and Beth continued to peacefully interact.

    A few minutes later, Ivy reached out and smacked Bengie. He understandably got annoyed by this intrusion on his peace and snapped back. This upset Ivy. Wanting to utilize a learning opportunity, I said to Ivy, “Ivy, don’t smack Bengie if you don’t want him to do that. He’s just laying there and you bothered him.” I continued, “How would you feel if I did that to you?…”

    Oh.

    I realized what I was saying. I had just done that to her. It was just moments later that she did the same thing to Bengie. I was close to missing that simple and obvious realization.

    I put my hand on Ivy’s head and said, “That’s probably why you did that to Bengie, huh?”

    A learning experience.

    I’m not sure how much Ivy learned from it, but I did. I was reminded that Ivy is watching, replicating, repeating, and behaving in the ways she sees me act. When she disrupts Bengie’s peace, well, I’d just disrupted her peace. When she loses her temper, she’s seen me lose my temper. When she gets upset, she’s seen me get upset.

    Obviously, Ivy is her own person and has her own emotions and actions. But it’s amazing to see how much she copies me. If she does something I’m disappointed in, it’s beneficial for me as a parent to stop and wonder, “is this something she learned from me?”

    I fear sometimes that parents don’t take enough responsibility for how we mold our children. Again, toddlers get angry and frustrated and do completely irrational things that they aren’t copying from us. But sometimes, a lot of the time, their behavior can be traced directly to something they saw us do.

    When we realize this, our every movement, word, and reaction around our children becomes something important.