Enlightenment

Do you remember a picture from a week or so ago where Patrick and Dinosaur were both wearing socks--on their feet AND their hands? It was hilarious, obviously, but puzzling. I had no idea why he suddenly decided socks belonged on his hands.

A few days ago he came up to me with a sock in his hand again, asking for help to put it on his hand. He was chattering about something incomprehensible when I heard two words I thought I understood: "sah puppih."

"Huh? Did you say 'sock puppet,' Patrick?"

"Sah puppih! Yeah!"

And from that moment, Sock Puppet joined our family. It's definitely something he picked up from Blue's Clues, as Steve shows off his own sock puppet skills in several different episodes we've seen lately. Now Sock Puppet joins us on car trips and sometimes eats at the table with us, although we've learned to limit his appearances then to cleaner meals ever since the day he tried banana. "Yucky banana! Yucky sah puppit!" Sock Puppet even talks on the phone sometimes, although I'm not entirely sure what he's saying. But that's okay because I'm sure Patrick knows.

Another unrelated Patrick-ism: He's decided that Cookie Monster is every bit as cool as Elmo and is thrilled if either one of them makes an appearance on his diaper. It cracks me up to hear him say "Cookie Monster," though, because he insists on growling it just like Cookie Monster talks.

We recently had to start replacing his wardrobe because he takes any buttons or snaps on his clothes and draws on the walls with them (they leave pencil-like marks that are difficult to remove). Those kinds of clothes are almost all he has, so we now need to find simple t-shirts and shorts without all those extra buttons. While browsing the clearance section at Babies R Us last night, we found a Cookie Monster outfit. Normally I avoid the popular cartoon characters on his clothes, but I couldn't resist buying it when he saw it and immediately got excited, growling "Cookie Monster" loudly. He's wearing the outfit today, and that's all he can talk about. I'll have to see if I can get it on video for you. It's got to be one of the cutest things he says.

Hall of Shame

Gigi's comment from the last post gave me a great idea for a post. If you didn't read it, she mentioned that it looked like Nathan is always smiling in pictures. While that is often the case, there are a few pictures I've captured that show Nathan without the classic grin on his face.

Here are the best of the best (from the past three months) that fit in the Hall of Shame (note that all pictures are unedited, which certainly doesn't help their quality):

"I swear I'm not pooping...I just look like I am."

"This is my Quasimodo face. What do you think? Worthy of an Oscar?"

"I'm not sure whether I'm yawning or sneezing...or both."

And Patrick's not immune from the bad picture syndrome:

"It looks like I'm worried, but I'm really just upset that Mommy wants to take pictures of me. I'm supposed to be the one behind the camera!"

"Haha, can't catch me, I'm the gingerbread...ahem, Patrick man!"

And my absolute favorite picture, the one that wins the Medal of Shame hands down:

"But this is my prettiest smile, Mommy!"

Got a better caption for one? I want to hear it! Leave me a comment and make me laugh--more than these pictures already have!

Ten Months

Dear Nathan,

In a short two months, you will be a full year old. I can't believe how quickly the past ten months have flown by and how soon I'll have to call you my toddler instead of my baby.
This month hasn't seen any huge changes, but you continue to grow and mature every day. Every so often, you'll react in an unusual way or move differently, and I'm suddenly reminded that you're no longer that floppy baby I brought home from the hospital. You're a little person with a personality all your own.

I'm sure it will surprise nobody to hear that humor is already a large part of your personality. You love to do things to make us laugh and consider it a triumph when Patrick laughs at you--or with you, which is usually the case. I love the sound of your little laugh, too; it never fails to get at least a smile out of me.

You are also very considerate and thoughtful for a mere ten-month-old. It is clear you love all of us in different ways. Mommy is comfort and basic care; Daddy is entertainment (and comfort when Mommy's not around); Patrick is your hero; and Amber is--well, Amber. As selfish as babies can be, it's comforting to watch your concern for each of us, the way you want to make all of us happy whenever possible. If only you knew that all you had to do is smile that toothy grin...

And speaking of that toothy grin, you are working on adding at least one more tooth before long. You have been teething a molar for the past week or so, and it's interrupted your sleep more than once. Still, you're taking it like a trooper. I don't think you've fussed as much about this one as you did the first few. It's hard to believe that you'll have at least seven teeth long before you turn one.

The one area you haven't really cared to make progress is in your motor skills. You still aren't crawling, even army crawling (although you can scoot pretty well when you are sitting or on your belly), and you like being helped to stand but don't want to try it on your own yet. All in time, though. I'm trying to cherish these last few days of immobility while I can. I'm sure once you start going, you'll never stop. I'm not quite ready to be chasing two of you around the house yet. Hopefully I'll get ready before curiosity gets the best of you and you take off after your brother.

You probably don't even realize this, but you still force me to take a few minutes every day to remember how incredibly lucky I am. I have two of the cutest and sweetest boys ever. I was trying just today to tell you how much I love you (not that you were paying attention; you were a bit focused on nursing at the time), and I realized that I can't find the words. I don't think there are any that can adequately summarize what I'm feeling. It would be like walking up to the ocean and calling it a pond. So know that when I tell you that I love you, what I feel is so, so much more than those three words can ever convey.

Love,

Mommy

When the Lights Are Out

The other day, Matt and I realized it was probably time to move Nathan's crib mattress down a level. He's never shown any signs of pulling up on the side or any other dangerous activities, but he is definitely at that age when it could start happening at any moment. We'd rather be proactive about it than discover just too late that we should have already taken care of this task.

When we put his bed back together, we debated about whether to put his crib bumper back in. Patrick has recently decided it's just another of his toys, and we've found it draped around the room several times lately. To preserve our own sanity, we made the decision to see how Nathan did without it.

At first, he seemed to be a little confused. "Why can I suddenly see out of my crib, and not just what's above it?" Then he settled in; he seemed to like the new view.

Patrick did too. He also seemed quite curious about the new look to Nathan's crib, inspecting it even before we left the room for the night. Still, Matt and I left to let the two of them get used to the change, expecting the worst.

I was surprised when I didn't immediately hear cries behind me. I shrugged in the silence and went in the other room to play on the computer. About ten minutes later, I needed to do something right outside their room. When I got there, I heard a weird noise.

"Is that Nathan crying?" I wondered. It sounded like his voice, but it wasn't quite a typical cry. "Oh, no. I get it now. Patrick's laughing." I could only imagine the kind of torment he was inflicting on his brother that would cause him to laugh that mischievous laugh. I had pictures in my mind of Patrick poking at his brother through the slats and pulling his blankie away from him and who even knows what other mischief he could devise.

Then I heard it again and knew the sound for what it was: Nathan's laughter. It was the wildest, most hilarious laughter I have ever heard out of this perpetually happy baby. Between two crazy laughs, I heard another quieter sound. This time it was Patrick's voice. He was talking to Nathan in a sweet but silly voice.

My two boys were having an impromptu slumber party in their room, reminiscent of the late-night chattering my sister and I would do from time to time when we were young. The two were having such a grand time that I didn't want to interrupt them, even though they needed to sleep and it was probably my duty to put an end to the fun. (That's what mommies do, right?)

Instead, I called Matt to come listen as well. We practically melted as we listened to our boys interacting with each other and entertaining each other. It's a sound that I'm sure will become irritating as they grow older and we are forced to put an end to on a regular basis to ensure they get enough sleep, but for this one night, we revelled in the noise.

It's nice to have proof that our boys do love each other after all. For now.

Meet Dinosaur

Meet Doddledo, aka Dinosaur.
Doddledo is Patrick's newest best friend. He is the comfort object, that one item that follows Patrick everywhere and would be the cause of great distress if he ever disappeared.

Doddledo does everything with Patrick (except for baths, thank goodness). He participates in every diaper change, which is why you often see him in a diaper in photos. He eats meals with us, and he comes for rides in the car. He is fed some of Patrick's snacks and is given toys to play with and insists on watching Blue's Clues at various times of the day.

I have taken to addressing Doddledo when I have questions for Patrick. Here's a sample of our conversations lately:

Me: Patrick, what do you want for lunch?

Patrick: .....

Me: Patrick, what does Doddledo want to eat for lunch?

Patrick: Doddledo mumblemumble toteeya chee

Me: (thinking How is that easier to say than quesadilla?) Doddledo wants a tortilla with cheese? And what does he want to drink?

Patrick: Doddledo mumblemumble ilk? Ilk sippy?

Me: Okay, then I'll make Doddledo a tortilla with cheese and a milk sippy, and you guys can share.

Then while I start gathering everything for lunch, Patrick straps Doddledo into his own booster seat ("UP, downdowndown") and puts a bib on him. Patrick usually pauses during his own meal to offer bites of his meal and sips of his milk to Doddledo. Apparently, Doddledo usually declares them to be "yummy."

When naptime comes, Patrick is even more eager to hop in bed--if that's even possible. He makes sure to tuck Doddledo in next to him snugly. Then he kisses the top of his head. "Uh wuv oo, Doddledo." I am forced to repeat the routine as well, kissing Doddledo after I give Patrick his naptime kiss.

While they play together during the day, Patrick will pause at random times to lean down and give Doddledo yet another smooch. I grin a bit everytime I hear, "Mmm-mah!" knowing that Doddledo is very loved.

Sometimes Patrick decides that he is tired of carrying Doddledo everywhere. At these times, he tries teaching Doddledo to walk. He hunches over kind of funny, balances Doddledo on his feet on the floor, and rocks him back and forth as though he's walking. He drags him along by the hand at times, like he's holding his hand. Doddledo even dances with Patrick and jumps with him, practicing all those great gross motor skills.

Lately, Patrick has had issues keeping his diaper on when he's supposed to be sleeping, so we've started duct taping down the tabs. (By the way, he can even break through that sometimes. Anybody have any different ideas for us to try to solve this problem?) He somehow got the idea that it resembles a Band-aid, from the one time he saw me with a Band-aid on my boo-boo. Now when I change his diaper, he reminds me that Elmo has a boo-boo and needs a Band-aid. Of course, Doddledo needs one too, though. He has taken to peeling the decals off his car and using the stickers as a Band-aid on Doddledo's diaper.

Anything Patrick has, Doddledo needs too. I can't decide if Doddledo is Patrick, or just someone for Patrick to nurture, more like his baby. Either way, I think Matt and I may go on a mission to find a second Doddledo to keep hidden around here, just in case some sort of tragedy would occur to Doddledo...God forbid.

Brotherly Love

This crazy kid, this one right here, is absolutely, definitely talking. I know I keep talking about it, but that's because I keep trying to convince myself it's possible. Patrick talked so late that it's ridiculous to think a baby could be communicating using real words this early. I mean, he's only nine months old!

But as more time passes and he attempts to talk more and more, I am forced to admit that not only is it possible that he is talking but almost certain. Also, he is not merely repeating us; I think he actually knows what he is saying sometimes.

For example, he frequently says "Amber" unprompted now. He sees her and instantly gets excited and starts repeating her name. I think he is trying to get her attention, which she is only too happy to give most of the time.

This morning's incident is what proved it to me once and for all, though. I had just rescued him from his room for his first feeding, and Patrick was just barely awake. He was jabbering about having me tuck in his bear again, and I did so while holding Nathan. As soon as we got back in our bedroom, Nathan started repeating, "Gaga," his name for Patrick, oddly the same as Patrick's name for him. Then he said, "Uh wuv uh." This time he did not repeat it after I had said it. It came from nowhere.

"Gaga, uh wuv uh. Gaga. Gaga, uh wuv uh." He continued to repeat it while I stared at him in awe. He was clearly saying something with that phrase, and I'm hesitantly suggesting that he does understand what the words mean, at least to some extent. Regardless, though, I'm quite positive that he does indeed love his brother.

Thirty-Three Months

Dear Patrick,

I don't even know where to begin with this month's letter. I guess it's best to just say that you have become a child of contradictions.
You are the most fun and the most irritating person I've ever been around. You are the sweetest, most cuddly little boy only seconds before becoming the most whiny little tantrum-thrower. I'm inclined to believe this is the two-year-old in you and not the Patrick in you because if I'm wrong, you're going to drive all of us batty before you hit junior high, where you probably will anyway.

There are moments when you are about as easygoing and compliant as they come. The other night you were already asleep when the 4th of July fireworks began, but Daddy and I thought you might enjoy watching them so Daddy woke you up from a deep sleep. When he nudged you and whispered, "Boom, boom" in your ear, you easily smiled at him and asked, "Boom, boom?" right back. "Yeah, Dad, what is making that boom boom noise?" Even though it was the middle of the night to you, you were absolutely charming as you stood with us in the driveway watching the light show the nearby country club put on for us. You didn't even put up a fight when the show ended and we put you back to bed.

Unfortunately, you aren't that resilient all the time. For example, the other day Daddy washed the kitchen floor, going to the extent of moving the table and chairs as well. When we replaced the table, we left off the vase of flowers that you tend to play with during meals, which bugs both Daddy and me. The second you sat down to the next meal, you threw the biggest fit. You refused to even look at your food until the vase had been replaced. It had only been moved a few feet, but your sense of normalcy was thrown off, and you couldn't cope with the change.

Lately your language has really been taking off as well. You have a nearly endless vocabulary and seem to learn a dozen new words each day. For a kid with language delays, you seem to talk an awful lot. More and more you are able to communicate what you want and need quite effectively. Of course, that doesn't keep you from throwing tantrums anytime you don't get what you want. Still, I think your ECI teacher is continually amazed at the progress you're making. You may still be behind other kids your age, but you're making fast strides in catching up. It won't be long before all the frustrations with your talking (or lack thereof) will be a thing of the past.

You've surprised me in the last few weeks with how much typical preschool knowledge you've picked up here and there. I suspect a good part of it is due to your favorite show, but mere mentions of shapes and colors from me seem to spark something in your brain and you repeat that shape or color for days after. I know you know at least a few of your colors and most of your shapes, even if it takes a specialized toddler translator to clarify what you are saying. You know a few of your letters at least, and I have a feeling you know more of your numbers than you're letting on. When you start preschool, you're going to be right on track with all your peers.

Although you can be quite violent at times (I hope unintentionally) to all of us, you have started showing your love more often. It's common for you to stop what you're doing for a minute to crawl into my lap or Daddy's lap just to give us a hug. It's now part of your nighttime routine to kiss your brother good night before you climb into bed yourself. You even give Amber hugs any time we remind you to be gentle with her. I'm not sure if this is what has prompted her devotion to you or your insistence upon dropping food over the side of the table when you think Daddy and I aren't watching. Either way, this new loving side of you has to be my favorite yet. There's nothing quite like getting to snuggle with you for a few minutes after your nap, something initiated entirely by you and not done against your will--because I know it won't be long before the only snuggles I get from you are stolen.

It amazes me to see how far you've come in the past two years, nine months. It's difficult to see this active toddler, this totally normal active toddler, and remember the tiny, fragile little thing you used to be. I've heard that once you're a preemie mom, you're always a preemie mom, but I don't entirely believe that. Those days when you were so little are long past, and I can barely remember them anymore. When I do, it's hard to connect you to that baby. Until I see you around your gargantuan peers, I would never guess you were ever a preemie. It amazes me to think how little pain I have left from your early days. This new amazing you has healed all that pain you unintentionally caused by showing up so early. I think you give hope to preemie moms everywhere.

I can't believe you're growing up so fast, you crazy nut. I'm cherishing all these goofy moments with you--in between the tantrums anyway--because any day now I'll be the mom to a surly teenager who believes parents are the spawn of Satan. Hopefully when that happens, I'll be able to transport myself back in time through the pictures I've taken and blog posts I've written to relive your silly days of insisting "Doddledo" has a diaper on and wanting Daddy to help you do headstands. Besides, how else do you expect me to embarrass you, your friends, and your girlfriends when you're rolling your eyes at your totally uncool parents ten years from now?

But you know what? I'll love you even then, and that humiliation will stem from love. Yes, really.

Love,

Mommy

No Way!

I'm quite certain that Nathan is talking, and not just babbling. We have had more instances where he has fairly clearly said, "Amber," when Amber was around or he was trying to get her attention. I have also heard him repeat, "Gaga," when he was trying to get Patrick's attention. In fact, one day when Patrick was crying near Nathan, I could swear I heard Nathan say, "Gaga. Pah-tree." That one I'm less certain about because, after all, Patrick was crying loudly in my ears.

Nathan also says, "Dada," when he wants his daddy's attention and either "Mama" or "Nana" when he wants me. He's consistent enough about all his different words and when he uses each one that it seems entirely likely that he understands what he's saying, at least to some extent.

But today's new phrase caught me totally off guard. Nathan had done something cute and got me to smile, so I leaned down and gave him a kiss, telling him, "I love you." Then I turned around to do something else. From behind me I hear, "Uh wu-oo."

I swung that head around so fast in shock. How could Patrick have woken up and snuck out of his room without my hearing it? But, no, Nathan and I were alone--and Nathan was grinning from ear to ear.

I know, I know. Nathan was just repeating me and very likely had no idea what he was saying. But that doesn't mean I'm not going to treasure this day forever and ever--the first day BOTH my boys told me they loved me.