First, I'm happy to report that Operation Bottle Fairy was a complete success! Five days and counting of contented bottle-free life for Puppy. If only the Nose-Picking Fairy could stop by. Seriously, do all toddlers go through a phase in which one finger is constantly poking at their nostril?
Second, D asks, "By the way, is it too late to ask a question? It's one of those things I've always wondered, but just never asked... where did 'Puppy' get his nickname from?"
"Puppy" is a play on his actual name. When he was born, I was working on learning biblical Hebrew as part of my graduate studies. Puppy's real-life name is in the Hebrew Bible and I was amused to see that it was very similar to the word for "dog."
T and I weren't real big into the meanings of our kids' names when we picked them. We have nothing against selecting names that way, it just wasn't important to us. My parents-in-law, on the other hand, treat names as near-proclamations of one's destiny. They decided that his given names meant "faithful guardian" (his middle name is more or less "prosperity keeper" or "wealth guard"). They even made up a little thing to hand on his wall saying so. They didn't find it funny when I suggested that "dog who guards the money" was perhaps a more literal translation.
When it came time to name him online, "Puppy" immediately came to mind. It's since been pointed out to me that nicknaming an adopted child after an animal that is frequently "adopted" in the real world wasn't the most sensitive thing to do. Had I thought of that initially, I probably would have opted for another pseudonym. We don't call him Puppy anywhere but online.
Firefly's nickname is inspired by the Latin root of her real name. I'm really not the pretentious language twit this post makes me sound like, I promise.
August 11, 2008
August 06, 2008
The Bottle Fairy
The Bottle Fairy came to our house last night. Have you heard of the Bottle Fairy? Lesser-known cousin of the Tooth Fairy, sister of the Pacifier Fairy? She comes under cloak of darkness to whisk away your bottles, leaving goodies in their place. True story.
Although he's been drinking from cups for ages now, Puppy still takes a daily bottle of milk. It's a comfort thing, part of his nightly routine. Bath, then snuggling on the couch with books and a bottle, followed by tooth brushing and bed. It's never bothered me. I wouldn't object to an evening nursing session at this age were I breastfeeding, so why not a bottle? And I figured we would know when the time was right to end it, just as it often happens in extended breastfeeding.
As it turns out, there have been a number of signs this summer that it was time to retire Puppy's beloved Avents. I've been casting about for a way to make the transition. Even though he seemed ready for it, I didn't want it to seem too abrupt or arbitrary. Routine is a big deal to Puppy, partly a function of his personality but mostly of his age. He's feeling out that scary area between the exciting larger world and the safety of mom and dad. He often asks--seemingly out of the blue--"Am I a big boy?" or "Am I tiny?" when he needs to be reassured of his independence/dependence. I think the bottles are part of the world where he can still be securely dependent. So I wanted to make a way for him to feel in control of stepping away from them.
On a lark one day I told him about the Bottle Fairy, how kids leave their bottles for her before they go to sleep and when they wake up she's left something special in their place. Puppy asked many questions about what sorts of things she left and made sure that this wasn't something we would force him to do. We talked about it now and again over the next few weeks. I wasn't sure it would go anywhere.
But yesterday as we walked out of the babysitter's house, Puppy asked if we could do the Bottle Fairy. Only I thought he was asking if we were going to a bottle factory, so we went a few garbled rounds before it all came clear. After bath last night, Puppy had one farewell bottle. Then we gathered them all into an Easter basket and added a note for the Bottle Fairy. He spent some time sitting next to the basket saying, "Bye bye, bottles." We talked a lot about how the next night his milk would be in a cup.
This morning he woke to discover that the Bottle Fairy hadmade a hasty Target trip come during the night and filled his basket with all sorts of goodies along with a note saying how proud she is of him. And I really am she really is. He spent all morning playing with the little car she left and took it to daycare to share with his friends ("There will be three turns. Paige will have a turn, then Madison will have a turn, then Abby will have a turn. And I'll have a big turn." His math isn't so hot.)
Of course, the real test will come tonight after bath when the reality of no bottle hits. I'm giving 40-60 odds on tears.
ETA: No tears! Woot!
Although he's been drinking from cups for ages now, Puppy still takes a daily bottle of milk. It's a comfort thing, part of his nightly routine. Bath, then snuggling on the couch with books and a bottle, followed by tooth brushing and bed. It's never bothered me. I wouldn't object to an evening nursing session at this age were I breastfeeding, so why not a bottle? And I figured we would know when the time was right to end it, just as it often happens in extended breastfeeding.
As it turns out, there have been a number of signs this summer that it was time to retire Puppy's beloved Avents. I've been casting about for a way to make the transition. Even though he seemed ready for it, I didn't want it to seem too abrupt or arbitrary. Routine is a big deal to Puppy, partly a function of his personality but mostly of his age. He's feeling out that scary area between the exciting larger world and the safety of mom and dad. He often asks--seemingly out of the blue--"Am I a big boy?" or "Am I tiny?" when he needs to be reassured of his independence/dependence. I think the bottles are part of the world where he can still be securely dependent. So I wanted to make a way for him to feel in control of stepping away from them.
On a lark one day I told him about the Bottle Fairy, how kids leave their bottles for her before they go to sleep and when they wake up she's left something special in their place. Puppy asked many questions about what sorts of things she left and made sure that this wasn't something we would force him to do. We talked about it now and again over the next few weeks. I wasn't sure it would go anywhere.
But yesterday as we walked out of the babysitter's house, Puppy asked if we could do the Bottle Fairy. Only I thought he was asking if we were going to a bottle factory, so we went a few garbled rounds before it all came clear. After bath last night, Puppy had one farewell bottle. Then we gathered them all into an Easter basket and added a note for the Bottle Fairy. He spent some time sitting next to the basket saying, "Bye bye, bottles." We talked a lot about how the next night his milk would be in a cup.
This morning he woke to discover that the Bottle Fairy had
Of course, the real test will come tonight after bath when the reality of no bottle hits. I'm giving 40-60 odds on tears.
ETA: No tears! Woot!
August 04, 2008
Fading into the Background
Gold stars all around if you can tell me what's missing from these magazine covers:
Aw, how sweet. The Jolie-Pitts have become a beautiful family of five.
What's that you say? They actually have other three other children? Don't be silly. Everyone knows adopted kids aren't really family, especially those embarrassingly obvious transracial adoptees.
I'm not surprised, but I am royally annoyed. Especially since their eldest child is old enough to read and understand this slight.
Bonus gold star if you can answer this head-scratcher: if one of their adopted children was white, would he/she have been acknowledged on the cover? My guess is still no.
Aw, how sweet. The Jolie-Pitts have become a beautiful family of five.
What's that you say? They actually have other three other children? Don't be silly. Everyone knows adopted kids aren't really family, especially those embarrassingly obvious transracial adoptees.
I'm not surprised, but I am royally annoyed. Especially since their eldest child is old enough to read and understand this slight.
Bonus gold star if you can answer this head-scratcher: if one of their adopted children was white, would he/she have been acknowledged on the cover? My guess is still no.
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