Of Cowgirl Boots and Favorite Foods

Ruth: it’s hard to know where to start.

The little munchkin is growing rapidly (don’t they always?). She’s still small for her age, according to those doctor’s charts, but boy, is she strong and coordinated. She walks and runs with assurance, and even attempts a jump or two. She’s brave, but a little on the shy side, preferring to observe kids at a safe distance before making friends.

Tiny Wonder Kid

I Bought A Toddler Harness and I Have No Regrets

I just bought a harness for my toddler.
My reasons? Plenty. Ruth has absolutely no fear, the propensity to run, a love of exploration, an unfettered determination. She simply does not care how far away she gets from me, will not listen to my verbal or physical commands, and will put herself into physical danger without a thought. One day I caught her standing on her father’s desk, four feet above the floor. In the mall, she tried to go up the down escalator while I was running after her. She’ll think nothing of trying to jump off a series of concrete steps, either.
I can chase and command her a dozen times over (believe me, I’ve counted), and it won’t make a lick of difference. At 15 months, both “time-outs” and even a light slap on the hand (if the infraction involves fire or electricity) aren’t guaranteed to curb her enthusiasm for discovery.
I never made the decision that I wouldn’t ever use a harness or leash under any circumstance. I vaguely remember being harnessed as a child, and distinctly remember that my brother Kevin was harnessed whenever we went to the grocery store with my mother, and on other public outing occasions.
(Kevin was notorious for disappearing and hiding in department stores, too. You never really knew what he was going to think up next. In one famous family episode, he took off on his tricycle a few blocks down our street to “look for me,” while I was visiting a friend’s house. That was the only time I ever heard my mother swear.)
As a result of this, using a harness on a child was a normal possibility for my future. I don’t feel that using a harness means you’re treating the child like an animal. Most of all, using one does not mean that you’re too lazy to parent your child.
Therefore when I went searching for a toddler harness (or leash), I found myself indignant and surprised at the negative reactions that some parents have to them. I got angry, even, and occasionally scoffed out loud.
I realize that with regard to many parenting issues, you’re going to find people at extremes; debate can be productive and thought-provoking. Sharing stories, pros, and cons can help people come to their own decisions on an issue. I just didn’t think this was an issue where you would find that much debate. For me, it’s an “Well, if you need it,” issue, to be dismissed with a shrug.
So if any of these vehement anti-leash anti-harness parents confront me in public about it, that’s what I’ll do.
I don’t plan on using it all the time. She’s only one kid, and there are plenty of times when the stroller is tolerable, or when I can chase after her. She’s gotten wise to being careful stairs, after much instruction and one incident of falling. Certainly there will come a day when everything I’m trying to do will click.
The days will also come when I am too large and pregnant, or too encumbered by a newborn and all his gear, that I just won’t be able to chase her down if she tries to run into traffic, or some other horrifying scenario.
And that’s why it’s okay to harness your toddler.

CUTENESS OVERLOAD: The Ruth Chronicles

*falls over ded*

Settled In

The last few weeks, in spite of Ruth’s amazing strides in destructivity, I feel at home in parenthood. Yes, it can be restrictive on one’s social life and sleeping habits. Yes, sometimes I long for adult conversation. Yes, sometimes I wallow in frustration and misery at my own unfulfilled desires and needs (sometimes as basic as a trip to the bathroom).

a few thoughts on Ruu

It’s gotten to the point where I’m not sure what constitutes Ruth News anymore, since everything she does FASCINATES me. All I know for absolute certainty is this: I love my daughter, deeply and completely.
There’s really nothing like this romance and intimacy. Like marriage, it’s a unique bond formed by hormones, time, will, and emotions. There is so much touch, so many hours, and so much effort put into the relationship that I can’t help myself: I’ll jump in front of a train for her.

The Good and the Bad

Ruthie is asleep in a baby sling, wrapped tightly next to my chest. It’s how she sleeps best.