Our little toddler, Garrett, has been having nightmares lately. I'm not sure why. He doesn't see anything scary on TV - we almost never even watch TV! They say you need to have a good, calming routine before bed. Bedtime is almost always the same regimen - Bath, Brush teeth, Books, Bed. The books we read are good, funny bedtime books! Sandra Boynton, not Steven King. I don't know what's causing these scary dreams. I've read different articles about the subject, but haven't found any real solution to the problem. Since he is the middle child,  we've been keenly guarding his self esteem, we make sure he gets plenty of flattery, because a low self esteem seems to be the culprit in a lot of toddler issues. He is a real pistol - a typical 2, I guess.

It would be easier to figure out how to deal with the nightmare if he could tell me what its about. Usually he's semi-sleeping and crying when I ask him to tell me about his dream. One time he said "The twuck... the twuck!"
I can presume he's talking about my truck, but what am I supposed to say, "The truck won't get you"? I'd rather have him keep a healthy fear of cars and trucks. I've scolded him twice for going into the road on his trike. I always tell him "the cars will hurt you!" Thats probably the cause of that nightmare. If his fear was a monster or something, I would be able to tackle that problem for sure. Well, maybe.

Dealing with this makes me remember when I was little. I was scared of E.T. I had lots of nightmares about that little critter. The worst one I can still remember very vividly, it was so scary! In my dream, I was in my bed and E.T. was hiding between the bed and the wall - then he raised his head up with that weird, telescoping neck of his and looked at me! Zoiks! I woke up screaming, scrambling out of the bed to get away, when my foot got tangled in the sheet and I fell flat on my face. Talk about full panic! I had never crawled so fast in my life - straight across the hall to my parents' bedroom door, and it was locked! All the while, in my mind E.T. was right behind me, ready to get me with that terrible glowing finger. I just remember standing at the door, pounding with both fists until my dad rescued me - and brought me into their room for the night. I did not want to go back into my room, even after dad checked it all over for extra terrestrials.

I'm glad that I remember how it feels to be terrorized by a nightmare so young. It is a very real feeling. When you're that young, there isn't a difference between dreams and reality. I think its important for parents to remember that, and take your children's fears seriously. After my E.T. nightmare, I was convinced E.T. was still in my room, waiting for me. I refused to go back in there. I remember how awed I was at how my dad just fearlessly walked into my room and turned on the light. It was like he was an invincible superhero, exuding confidence as he spoke into my room, saying something like  "E.T. Don't ever touch my son! Never come into my house again!" It made me feel a whole lot better, and I think the next night I was okay to sleep alone again.

Dads need to be like superheroes for their kids. I didn't want to hear "It was just a dream, get over it, go back to bed." I wanted my dad to go in there and get rid of my nightmare - which he did. Every parent wields amazing superpowers. It is knowing how and when to use them that counts.

Garrett's terrible two-ness has gone off the charts recently, coinciding with the arrival of Bodie. He's always had a little nonconformist attitude, a born maverick. Now he's the epitome of rebellion. Tantrums have become the norm now when things don't work out for him. Its obvious that he's going to have a hard time adjusting to not being the baby anymore. Its hard to see him go through this process, and I'm sure its really hard on him. Being two is an age full of emotional expansion anyway. He was just getting to that point where he is figuring out his own personality: a zany little jester. He loves to be the center of attention and to make people laugh. Bodie has stolen a little slice of that limelight, and its causing Garrett to become an emotional basket case. One minute we're having fun playing "fire truck rescue", the next minute he's stomping around screaming for mama to play too, after he notices she's tending to Bodie.

One good thing is that I don't think he actually resents Bodie or blames him for the shift in family dynamics. He is just as sweet as can be with the baby. When Bodie cries, Garrett pats his head and tries to put the pacifier in for him. Both of his big brothers are really great with Bodie in that sense.

However, Garrett is constantly teetering on the edge of a tantrum nowadays. Even when were alone together, like last night at the store. I was on a mission, as usual. I had a short list and intended to be in and out of there like a Navy Seal, but my cart rider had other intentions. Every time I turned left, he wanted to go right. He had to go down every aisle in the store!  "This way, daddy! THIS WAY!!" He'd point in the opposite direction every time. If I refused to obey, the kid would howl like a werewolf at a full moon. No kidding - it makes the hair on your neck stand up. I would then obediently turn the cart for him. It's like Dr. Phil says, "You need to pick your battles carefully, but win the battles you pick." That's the philosophy I subscribe to. I don't care if people at the store see me being directed around by a half pint of hot sauce, at least I completed the mission! To win that battle, I would have had to abandon the cart and whisk him out of there. 

On the way home, I can't even listen to my talk show on the radio. If he doesn't get the music he likes, its pure tantrum all the way home. "Punk rock music, daddy! Punk rock music right now!" he bawls. Its actually really cute, the way he says "punk wock, wight now!". His taste in music is right on par with his attitude at the moment. Forceful and obnoxious. Gavin likes all genres of music, but Garrett is stuck on one mode for now. So if he's in the car, he gets his way. That's just another battle not worth fighting.

Probably the funniest example of the conflict going on in Garrett's head is at supper time. We sit down and he looks at the food in front of him.
I ask "Are you hungry?"
He quickly replies "NO! I want to eat!"
Okay. "How about some green beans?" I say.
"No green beans. Just Jungle Rapids!" he retorts. Jungle Rapids is the local water park, which is closed for the season. It's his normal outlandish request which he knows I won't fulfill, leading him more quickly into tantrumville.
"Alright. I'll eat the beans then." I say as I poke a bean with my fork.
"No! It's mine!" he yowls as he pokes it with his own fork. He usually begins to eat after that. It happens that way almost every night. I don't know if reverse psychology is a good thing to use with toddlers, but it gets him to eat his supper.

Besides choosing the battles, the only other helpful bit of advice we've found is to just let his tantrums happen, and recognize that its a natural part of being a toddler. Be there for him, hold him if he wants to be held (usually not) and make sure he doesn't hurt himself. That's all you can do. After the tantrum, he's actually in a great mood and very amiable. It kind of goes along with the "How to Share" blog I wrote. Just let him get all that frustration out!

I think this stage will pass. In fact, someday I'll miss this, I bet. These kids grow too fast. I wish every year would last more like five.

Our cat, Laya, hasn't yet become completely comfortable with the boys.  Four years ago when we brought Gavin home from the hospital, her life changed in every respect. Her peaceful, lazy existence made a giant shift. I remember the look on her face the first time she approached our new baby and gave him a couple sniffs - it was pure disdain. She hid under the bed for awhile, as if the baby would throw off his swaddling blanket and get her. It took awhile, but when Gavin grew and became mobile he did go after her quite a bit.

I remember that we were worried Laya might hate us and run away when we brought a baby into our family. She was definitely perturbed, but we made sure she got plenty of love too. She still grovels for attention when the boys aren't around, meowing and purring as if to say "I'm still the baby, right?" Before we had kids she was the pampered little baby of the house. After all, she owns us, we don't own her. It is our privilege to feed her and clean her royal litter box.

I believe she must have been abused by kids when she was a kitten. We found her at the Petsmart cat adoption center. She had been picked up as a stray by the humane society. When we first saw her, she was in her own little cage, lying on her back, pleading with us to let her out. She was a little diamond in the rough, a very rare orange female! We didn't even notice until we got her home that she's got a kink in her tail that may have been caused by abuse. Were not sure why she has such a dislike for kids, but I can assume its because she's had some bad times with them. Because of this we are extra sure the boys never get rough with her.

Now, I think she realizes that these kids aren't going to injure her, and she can let her guard down a little bit. Every now and then they may "aggressively pet" her, and she simply gives them a flurry of swats with the front paw. They might even get a little nibble on the hand if they don't get the point right away. While we actively keep watch over how careful the boys are not to cause Laya any harm, we've given her the right to self defense by any means. She's basically a 9 pound orange cottonball. Her clawless front paws are about as lethal as a feather duster.

She actually loves it when they're out playing in the back yard. She stalks them from the sidelines, like a lion in the African savanna. When they unwittingly come into range, she attacks swiftly and forcefully, swatting feet and nipping at their heels. The kids love it when she ambushes them like that! She then disappears under the juniper, leaving the boys running in circles, laughing and screaming. It's like a game of cat and mouse, and the mice are two wild eyed toddlers. She acts just like a kitten again. She's happy to have some siblings to romp around with!

All in all, life hasn't been so bad for the cat. I'm sure she didn't think she could, but she's weathering the storm of little boys that has moved in. She's adjusting just fine. Having her in our family has been a blessing. She provides the boys with some exciting back yard chases and lessons in respect for animals. She has been pretty tolerant so far. Hopefully the third boy won't cause her too much more anxiety!