Tag Archives: nap time

Dear Mr. G.V. Hudson

Dear Mr. G.V. Hudson,

I would like to submit a formal complaint regarding your invention of Daylight Savings Time. I understand that as an avid entomologist who loved to study insects, but still had to pay the bills by working during the day, that you valued your “after shift daylight”. But, quite frankly, I think it’s quite arrogant that you would propose changing time in order to look at bugs. Now, don’t get me wrong, there was a time in my life when I loved your invention and even looked forward to it. Aside from normal holidays like my birthday and Christams, Fallback Sunday was one of my favorite days of the year. And, while I might still have a sideways thought about “the arrogant person who thought they could manipulate time”…I still loved that you did…right up until the spring time when I lost an hour…because of your bug collection.

But, my dear friend, all that changed this year. You see, last year my daughter was still too young to be affected by your arrogance. She slept whenever she wanted to, and couldn’t be bothered to care. This year, however, is a different story altogether. This year, she’s ticked off. Actually, I don’t think that’s quite strong enough. She’s p-i-s-s-e-d. There. That’s strong enough. Her whole biological clock is off kilter and YOU did it to her. She’s tired an hour before naptime, she’s hungry an hour before every meal and my poor 15 month old who understands nothing of impulse control and having to wait for needs to be met, is an absolute mess. I’m not a fan of yours right now, Mr. G.V. Hudson. And your friend? William Willet, who didn’t know about your “invention” and conceived this idea all on his own because he was upset that his golf game was cut short in the summer??? Oh, he’s not off the hook either. Even though he didn’t technically invent this manipulation of time himself, he still thought he should be able to change daylight hours so he could play golf. ARE YOU KIDDING ME????? Golf? My daughter is screaming her head off because YOU wanted to play golf?

Seriously, men, do you realize how incredibly arrogant it is to think that you can manipulate time. That you can wake up and say, “Today, I think I shall add 1 hour to my day so that I can collect bugs after dinner or work on my swing a little bit more.” Do you know that we all get 24 hours in a day? Except, now, because of your invention, we just got 25 and come spring there will be a day with only 23 hours in it. Do you realize that because of your bug collection, my daughter has been having the time of her life throwing temper tantrums and screaming at the top of her lungs? Do you realize that because of your golf swing I’ve almost lost my freaking mind today? Is it worth it? Is it really worth it???

Sincerely,
An avid proponent of “Ditch DST” and let’s just be normal people who are governed by the sun and the moon, rather than trying to manipulate time itself. Oh, and also? A mom who’s ears haven’t stopped ringing.

Happy Tuesday Ya’ll

PS. I would like to give mad props to my daughter who let her Daddy and I take full advantage of “Fall Back” on Sunday morning.

PPS. I would also like to give mad props to the daycare people at the gym who love my darling Zoebear, and shower her with hugs and kisses even when she’s in {and I quote} “Rare Form today. She’s just all out of sorts and we never see her like that.”

PPS. As a History major I feel compelled to tell you that I got my information from Wikepedia. If you are doing a 20 page research paper {like I had to do several times} I don’t recommend using Wikepedia at all. It’s highly looked down upon in History circles. If you’re writing a blog post about DST…well then…go right on ahead.

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My Sweet ZoeBear

Zoe,

Did you know that while you were still in my tummy your Daddy nicknamed you Zozo and I started tearing up. You were going to be his Zozo…and I determined that I wouldn’t ever call you that, so that it could be something just between you and him. When you were born your Papaw saw you and said, “Well, hey there Bugaroo” and that’s what you’ve been to him since that day. His little Bugaroo. But to me? You’ve always been my ZoeBear. I have no explanation for it. I don’t even know where or when it started. I can’t remember if you were still in my tummy when I called you that for the first time, or if I’d been holding you in my arms for weeks. But, for as long as I can remember you’ve been my ZoeBear. You’re 15 months old today, sweetheart. That’s a little over a year, still far away from being 2, and right smack dab in the middle of learning how to be a toddler.

This month has brought as many changes as it has days. You are becoming more independent every single day. For the most part, you can entertain yourself for a long time. Lately you’ve been trying to climb into your carseat all by yourself {you’ve even succeeded a time or two}, and your highchair too, for that matter {you have yet to succeed at that}. You now request to walk by yourself in public instead of hold my hand, and after you do that for a little while you come toddling back to me with your arm outstretched. There’s a 50/50 chance that at meal time you won’t eat something if I’m feeding it to you, but you’ll scarf it down if you’re feeding yourself. Actually, let me restate that. You’ll flat out deny the food, turning around in your highchair and pressing your face into the back of it in order to not eat the food that I’m trying to feed you. Those moments are countered by an increasing clingy-ness to me. Numerous times a day I try to put you on the floor, and you cling to my shoulders and pull your feet up like a monkey, absolutely refusing to be put on the ground. You associate your Papaw with me leaving, so even though he’s your favorite, it takes you a while to go to him. You like your independence, you just like it in doses.

I think one of the easiest ways to describe this month is that every action has an equal and opposite reaction. For instance, this month we’ve seen a tremendous slowing down of our lives. Our schedule isn’t any lighter…just our pace. Because you want to do things on your own, and we allow that, it takes 5-10 minutes {instead of 1} to walk from the car into the store. We have to get to the gym 15-20 minutes early so that you can walk yourself in, and hand the cards to the front desk people {who adore you} and then walk down the hall to the daycare. If I’m doing BodyPump, we have to get there 30 minutes early. You feed yourself everything, meal times can take anywhere from 30 minutes to an hour. Most are right around 45 minutes. Then there’s the clean up. But the opposite reaction? Is that you’re more active then ever, and getting more active every day. Which means that we’re up and down, up and down, up and down all day long. I’m learning that anything I want/need to get done has to happen at naptime…which coincidentally, has also gotten shorter.

At 15 months, you are still the sweetest kid I’ve ever met, but you’re adding more into the mix. You’re testing your limits every single day. That’s good. It means your brain is working. But, it also means that Mommy and Daddy have to be on their game. We’re trying to be as consistent as possible with boundaries and their consequences. The fun part? You’re a GENIUS. You’re now learning that if you want something, like…say, to get down and walk around when we’re at the mall, and I’m holding you in my arms because I’m tired of chasing you here there and everywhere, I’ll see your thinking face appear, and then you’ll hit me. Full on. In the face, on the chest, on my head. Wherever you can reach. Why? Because the consequence for hitting is that we put you down on the ground. You’re smart. I’m smarter. We won’t even talk about the tantrum you threw in the middle of the mall when instead of putting you on the ground, I just held your hand so you couldn’t hit me again. Aside from testing limits, you’re also mastering how to work a room. I love that I know you like no one else does. I love that I can see you thinking. I love that you walk into a room, take a glance at your audience, and then figure out which one is the easiest to get your desired outcome from. It didn’t take you long to figure out that grandma’s and grandpa’s are for giving you things that your mommy won’t let you have. That, by the way, started months ago…you’re just perfecting it now. You also test people’s reactions to things. Like, if I laugh…will they? How many times can I laugh and they laugh after me? That kind of stuff.

Your vocabulary is growing every day, although I would say that you’re probably just at average with your words. You say: Mama, Dada, Papa, Gaga, Yess {aunt Jess}, Yeah!, dog, cat, this, that, baby, and ice. You still have your same signs: more, all done, yes, no, goodbye, blow kisses, please, and eat. We added “drink” this month, and if we ever make it to the library so that I can check out a sign language book…we’ll learn more. Oh, and Daddy’s trying to teach you “thank you”. More than anything else, I’m amazed at your cognitive skills. I can ask you just about any question, and for months now you’ve been answering “yes” or “no” correctly. It makes life so much easier. It makes meal time a whole lot more stressful…

Speaking of mealtime…that has climbed to the top of the list of stresses in our life. You’ve turned into a moderately picky eater, which I hear, is common in toddlers. It’s not that you will or won’t eat a particular food group…at times you eat them all…it’s just a matter of determining “which” time the particular meal in question is. Snacks give me gray hairs. You don’t like the same thing all the time. You like variety. Awesome. Do you know how much variety costs? Sometimes I just want to beg you to eat Goldfish like every other kid on the block. It would make my life much simpler. And this is random, but the other day you were chowing down on fried okra and turnip greens with your Grandmommy….do you know how disgusting that stuff is? You won’t eat Goldfish, but you’ll throw okra back like there’s no tomorrow. You’re weird kid.

As far as milestones go? I don’t know if you’ve had any this month. Your molars came in, does that count? I know that I woke up one day and your face had changed again, you were older…there was no “baby” left in your face. I have a love/hate relationship with those moments.

Your Specifics:

Weight – Right at 23lbs…good job kiddo!
Height – You can see {and reach} over the kitchen table if you stand on your toes {which means our stuff isn’t safe anymore}
Size – Steadily growing out of 12mths and into 18mth clothes
Shoes – 4…favorite? Your boots.
Favorite things: pulling off your socks right after I put them on, picking your shoes for the day, your rocking chair, Hemmingway, pulling your toys out of your box one by one, pulling DVD’s off the shelf and throwing them behind you, laughing, flying, pony rides on our backs, pony rides on Hemmingway, being outside, riding your race car, bouncing on your rocking horse, climbing anywhere.anything.and everywhere, petting the cat {when she lets you}, going to the daycare at the gym, reading {all day, every day}, Baby Einstein’s World Music, DANCING!
Least Favorite things: being told “no”, eating anything that doesn’t appeal to your taste buds at that moment, being told “no”, when I am otherwise occupied and can’t pay attention to you, being told “no, getting strapped into the carseat, and…being told “no”.