Whistle while you work.

My son is obsessed with whistling. He started after seeing Disney's Robin Hood.

He just loves it. He whistles is the morning, on the way to school. He whistles all of the time. Well, he thinks he does.

The only problem is- that he doesn't really know how. Oh, he licks his lips and puckers just right- then proceeds to make a high pitched "whoo-whoo" sound with his throat.

At first, I didn't get it and then as he "whoo-whood" a familiar melody I realized what he was doing. I have to look away and shield my face so he doesn't see me laughing. It is really hard to contain myself.

It really sounds like "whistling" most of the time. The rest of the time, it sounds like a whining dog or a cat scratching a chalk board. It was really cute at first but it has been at least two weeks.

Then Saturday morning, I hear a high pitched sound over the baby monitor. He was "whistling". I guess it is better than when he yells out- Mami! Ven! Ven!!

Since he considers himself a whistling expert, he "whistles" along to cartoon jingles and just anytime he is inspired.

So I sit here listening over the monitor as he "whistles" himself to sleep and the whistling softly fades.

PG- Parental Guidance

Never watch "Bolt" with a four year old. How do you explain to him that the dog he is watching in the movie is part of a TV show but he doesn't know it? If you think Bolt had a hard time understanding that he really didn't have super powers, try explaining it to a four year old. This requires super powers of their own. I don't know about you but all things that have to do with my son require parental guidance.

Its like the questions never stop. Why this, why that. Sometimes he sets me up. He makes a statement like, "That man stopped his car because the light was red." I say, "That's right buddy" and then he says, "why did the man stop the car? Why is the light red?" I have finally figured out how to stop this line of questioning. I have two techniques. One is to answer with a very long scientific and correct answer like-there are sensors strategically placed along the road and they transmit information through to the light posts about the flow of traffic and a computer that controls the light signals changes the light to red." This usually has him take a short break while he digests it all. Sometimes it back fires. My new one is to say, "Why do you think that he stopped? This one is working nicely lately.

And then this evening, I read him an abridged version of Alice in Wonderland. It was just the story of a dormouse that eats magic candy and becomes a giant. I should have known better.

"Mommy what is a dormouse. Which are the magic candies. Why did she tell the Mad Hatter not to eat them. I don't see the magic candies in this picture. Why is the mouse a giant." I had to threaten to stop reading the story. It was exhausting to say the least. He is finally asleep and I'm going to bed, but who is going to read me a story?

Take my child or Somebody's Going to Get Hurt

Whenever I would meet someone who found out I was a new mommy they would always say, "Aren't they fun?" I would smile at them but would think to myself-"fun is not the word I would use to describe my situation." It is a blast now-most of the time, but the first eight months were a living hell. It wasn't my son. He was a good baby. It wasn't him, it was me. I hadn't slept in over a year and I was totally depressed. God allows me to go through certain things so that I can't be self righteous. Before I had my son I would hear of a mother who hurt herself and her child and I would think. "How can anyone do something like that?" I know how. Wow those first few months were scary for me. I was clueless about how to take care of a baby. I wasn't producing enough milk and I was alone most of the day. I was lonely, I was tired and I felt guilty all of the time. Why didn't I have lovey dovey thoughts all day? What was wrong with me? A hormone imbalance and some chemicals a little bit off, now add to that no sleep, guilt for not producing enough milk and loneliness and this is a dangerous recipe. A newborn cannot care about you or tell you that it is all going to be okay. It just cries a lot. I thank God everyday that I had some self control and could say to myself-"self, get a grip-those are not good thoughts, take a deep breath and think of something else." There were times I thought about crashing my car and had to literally shake it off. I can't even imagine what it must be like for women who are truly clinically depressed and cannot catch their thoughts and make them captive. Sometimes I get a little nervous when I think of having another child. I have always been a truly fun and happy person with lots of optimism and it freaks me out to think about being in that frame of mind again. On the bright side I can now remember that it gets better. One of the things that make the baby blues so blue is the feeling that it is never going to get better. The feeling that your life has changed forever. Now I know that a newborn doesn't stay a newborn forever. At 8 months I started going to the park everyday. More for me than for my son. I need to talk to other parents. At 10 months I placed him in daycare part time. I drove around looking for the right place and all I wanted was for someone to take my child or someone was going to get hurt. He started sleeping through the night at one year and then my life changed. Sleep is what I really needed. Soon I got back to work full time and I felt human again. After 18 months he was truly fun. It just kept getting better and better. He truly is a blast. I know I can't live without him. He provides the purest unconditional love, hugs and kisses. He brings me unparalleled joy. I hope that anyone who is going through something similar can grow in faith that it gets exponentially better.