Cheese!

Yesterday I took Cub to the doctor for his 18 month check-up. It's amazing how smart these little guys are now. They know there's something fishy at the doctor's office. The bright, sterile white walls and fluorescent lights must be a dead giveaway.

So in Cub struts. Still in pajamas. Looking around. Carefully, surveying the area. Making sure there aren't any casualties or POW's laying around. Then proceeds over to the dirty, germ-invested doctors' office toys, poking, lifting, and smelling. Daring to even put one of those detestable toys into his mouth!

Thankfully, our doctor was on time for once and I was able to scoop him away before he rolled in God knows what.

Once inside the exam room, Cub started fussing. Nervously pacing the room. Unsettled. Waiting for doom to hit. Even the nurse's harmless task of measuring his length became an all out wrestling match -- blood, sweat and tears.

But by the time the doctor came in he perked up a little at seeing her Elmo stethoscope. With a quiet, almost surrendered, "Elmo" recognition whisper. But soon the tears and rebellion followed, as the doctor began her exam.

The best moment of all was when she held up that little eye device with the small light in it to check his pupils and he responded, through tears, clenched teeth and fear, "Cheese!"

Only the children of our camera-obsessed generation would have such a response! Hilarious.

TV is Evil

I'm not one of those parents that "doesn't believe in TV" for children. TV has tutored Cub with his counting, letters, and words. I'm grateful for TV. The "right" TV -- Sesame Street, Super Why!, and any other strictly educational television programs for toddlers.

However, this morning I let Cub watch a little "too much" TV. I had to make phone calls and take care of a few things so I thought, "It won't hurt if he watches a little more..." And on I went making my phone calls and doing my tasks, even though all along I started feeling guilty. Dirty. Like a naughty parent for letting my child sit in front of the idiot box, glued.

Soon enough, we had to run some errands so I was able to pull him away and get out. We went to a little storytime at the local library, played a little bit then came home -- with one of his favorite videos from the library. Naturally he wanted to watch it immediately. It was close to nap time but I thought, heck, I'll pop it in and let him watch while he eats lunch in his highchair.

Lunch is over. The video is over. Perfect time for nap. Cub seems totally fine. Then wham! Out of nowhere SUPER TANTRUM FIT. I first thought it was teething, so I gave him some teething tablets and gel and tried to comfort him, even read a story. But he started screaming so loud, at ranges Mariah Carey can't even hit, I'm sure someone outside was considering calling CPS. I tried to stay calm. But it spiraled into a bigger tantrum.

Finally, I took him out of his room and went back to the living room -- where the TV is. And he got quiet. I thought, out of exhaustion, maybe I can turn on CNN just to have the TV on and he'll get bored and fall asleep in my arms. But NO! He was not falling for that trick. And on went the screaming. I finally turned to PBS kids and Sesame Street was on and out popped an angel. He was quiet, happy, calm. I turned back to Anderson Cooper one more time to test this. And out came the screams and tears again. Back to Sesame Street, angel.

Long story short, I did allow him to complete Sesame Street then whisked him away, kicking and screaming, convulsing, and forced myself to rock him to sleep no matter how long it took. And finally, it worked.

Never again. I am definitely setting TV limits! Or hiding it!