Not Exactly a Delicacy

I just figured out that Nathan's going to be that child. I had set him on the floor to sit and play for a few minutes while I checked my e-mail. He was surrounded by toys, but somehow still decided he needed to go exploring. He was already across the living room by the bookcase with Patrick's toys when I heard him cough.

Normally this wouldn't be a sound I would worry about, but this wasn't the first time I'd heard it today. This morning Patrick was playing with an empty diaper box, a favorite toy of his when we let him play with it, and was shredding pieces of the cardboard all over the floor. Naturally I had to confiscate it and throw away all the little pieces of cardboard.

Apparently I'd missed one because a few minutes later Nathan was coughing and had a funny look on his face. I fished one last piece of cardboard out of his mouth, thankfully before he choked on it. Patrick got one last lecture about leaving small things on the floor, and I checked the floor for any more choking hazards, just in case.

So when I heard Nathan coughing a few minutes ago, I couldn't figure out what he could have found to chew on. Luckily enough, as soon as I started to get up and check on him, he vomited all over his front. While I would typically be pretty grossed out by this, I was hoping the vomit was what had caused the coughing and everything was fine now.

Well, it was fine, but I determined the cause of the cough and vomit when I was cleaning up: There was a dead spider in the pile on the floor. It seems that Nathan managed to find a dead spider on the floor and thought it looked yummy.

Yup, Nathan's going to be that kid, the one who will eat literally everything, even if it crawls around on eight legs. He's going to be the one I have to watch every second to make sure he doesn't get himself into trouble with his adventurous spirit. I guess it's just good that he was able to puke up the spider this time. I don't know if we'll be so lucky this time.

Regardless of my worries, though, I still think this story is hilarious. This will be one of those stories he gets tired of hearing as he grows up.

Eleven Months

Dear Nathan,

I apologize already that I may get a little more sentimental than normal in today's letter. Now that you're eleven months, it has hit me like a brick at how close to a year old you are. One short, measly month is all I have until you join the ranks of emerging toddlers and your babyhood is just a memory. To say I'm not prepared is an understatement. Please help me make this month drag on by so that I can make the most of your last month of being the sweet, kissable baby you are.
Your daddy and I often play the game of guessing which one of us you resemble more. It goes without saying that you have Daddy's hair. I love the little curls that pop up over your ears and around your neckline. When Daddy was little like you, his hair was every bit as blonde as yours as well. It doesn't matter to me whether you stay towheaded like you are or if you get Daddy's dark hair, as long as you keep those curls. As far as your facial features, you also resemble Daddy, although I see bits and pieces of my grandfather and Gigi. I think you're going to be a particularly cute mix of all the genetic lines that went into making you.

The biggest development of the last month is your newfound mobility. Kid, you're fast! I can't understand how you can cross the room in a blink (or two) without ever getting on your knees and crawling. You're scooting lots faster than new crawlers. You've actually found that you prefer scooting to army crawling because you can control where you're going better this way. I think the tendency to get where you wanted to go backwards was starting to frustrate you.

I'm actually quite proud of you for finding a way to get where you're going even when crawling was proving too difficult at the moment. It's clear to me that you march to the beat of your own drummer (and dance to it too--too cute!). You don't care what you're supposed to be doing; you're going to do what you want, when you want. You'll crawl eventually, I'm sure, but there's no rush as long as you can still get where you're going. I'm not worried about your insistence to do things your own way either because you are so worried about pleasing me and Daddy already that you won't do anything that you've found makes us angry or disappointed. I'm afraid you take after me with that quality. You're going to grow up doing things your own way, but you'll have an overdeveloped sense of right from wrong. That's certainly a mixed blessing for all of us.

Here's an example of what I'm talking about: The other day you bit me while nursing. I gently pulled you back to remind you not to do that. You bit me again when I let you nurse again. This time I firmly told you no and gave you a gentle tap on your diaper to let you know I was serious. You broke out in the most pitiful cries. You weren't hurt, you just hated that I had told you no. You hated to think that you'd disappointed me. You're creative, clever, and persistent, but you can't handle being told you're doing something wrong. I'm thrilled that you want to only do things that are right, but I'm worried that at some point in the future you are either going to hold back from trying something in case it is wrong or someone is going to tell you what you're doing isn't right simply because it is different and squash that independent spirit you have.

Now that you're mobile, your relationship with Patrick is changing yet again. Suddenly you can get to his toys that have previously been kept out of your reach. The two of you are being forced to learn the hard lesson about sharing. Right now we're trying to find a compromise between toys that are definitely Patrick's, toys that are definitely yours, and toys that might have been Patrick's before but are good toys for both of you to play with. Neither of you is very happy to have a toy taken away, though, whether it was stolen from the brother or if I had to confiscate it because it wasn't yours. Patrick is finally starting to show some jealousy towards you now that you're encroaching on his territory, and when he isn't, he's playing a bit too rough with you. Still, you look up at him with those big adoring eyes and quickly forgive him when he hurts you, accidentally or otherwise.

Lately you've been quite the mama's boy. You've been waking up often at night thanks to some molars considering breaking through your gums, and especially then you have asserted your preference for me over your daddy. You still love having him around and laugh at his antics and try to get his attention, but you want me and only me to hold you. You did the same thing after waking up from a nap yesterday. When you're wide awake, you're more tolerant of snuggles with Daddy, but even then I think you'd be happier with me holding you. I understand that you're going through a mommy phase right now, and secretly I love it. There's something sweet about knowing I'm your everything right now, that only comfort from me will cut it. But my heart breaks for your daddy. He loves you every bit as much as I do, and I know he wants that satisfaction from being able to comfort you as well, just like he used to be able to do when you were just a newborn baby. For his sake, please keep this mommy phase short.

One more month. That's all the time I have to start changing my thinking into that of a mother of a pre-schooler and a toddler. You probably won't start walking the second you turn one and you'll probably still be nursing, but that magic day reminds me that you won't stay my tiny baby forever. I need to be used to the idea of you as a toddler shortly after you turn one anyway. I'm in no way ready for that, though. You've been such a sweet, wonderful baby, and I'm not ready to give that up yet, even if I'm trading that in for a sweet, wonderful toddler.

I've told you this before, and I'm going to tell you again: Take your time growing up. There's no rush. You can stay my baby boy just a little longer if you want to. But Mommy is going to love you every bit as much, even when you do embrace toddlerhood--all too soon.

Love,

Mommy

Catching Up on Pictures

Grr. I'm so far behind with blogging. I didn't realize it had been a whole week. And it's been even longer than that that I'd meant to show off some of the pictures I took at Nana and Grandpa's awhile back. I don't even remember just how long it's been--too long.

Anyway, I took TONS of pictures I really, really like. You'll be glad to know I narrowed it down from the sixty-some-odd favorites to just a few to show off here. (By the way, I'm playing around with some different coloring on a few of these. I'm curious about what you think. I'm a little too left-brained to be able to analyze its artistic value.)

Patrick and Nana

Nathan and Nana

A sweet picture of Nathan looking out the window

Nathan outside, debating whether to eat that grass

Patrick had lots of fun playing outside (isn't their grass beautiful?)

"Airpwane!"

Tell me he doesn't know how to suck up. Try it, I dare you.

Since we got home, Patrick has been asking about his grandparents almost every day. He wakes up and asks, "Go see Nana? And Hampaw?" When I tell him no, he asks about Gigi and Papa. He seems so disappointed to hear that yet another day will go by without his grandparents. It's going to be a loooooong time until Thanksgiving. For the record, though, we do have a nice, clean guest room, just in case anybody was thinking about making a weekend trip here or anything. Ahem.

Another First

I'm finding that the boys' baby books aren't quite adequate with room to fill in all the important firsts. They include all the usual ones, the ones that people ask about--like first food, first tooth, first word, first steps, all those.

But the really important ones, the ones that create the strongest memories for me, are the ones that no baby book would think to include. These firsts also tend to include both boys. I remember the first time Patrick actually played with Nathan, the first time Nathan laughed at Patrick, the first time Patrick called Nathan "Gaga" (that I recognized anyway), and the first time Nathan called Patrick "Gaga."

Today was yet another of those firsts between brothers. I was giving them a bath together (that was another first--their first joint bath) and they were thoroughly enjoying it. Nathan has finally started loving bathtime instead of just tolerating it, and coincidentally that coincides with learning to splash. Go figure.

Anyway, today Nathan was watching his brother carefully. Patrick kept splashing all over the bathroom--and me. Nathan immediately laughed hysterically at him and then followed his example. I would get a second tidal wave of water threatening to drown me, this time from Nathan. Patrick would laugh at, and with, him and start the whole process over again.

My boys were playing together and had teamed up against me. I had so much fun watching them work together to soak me that I didn't even mind that they quite easily accomplished their purpose.

That was a first for them--to play together with purpose, to team up on me. In the past, they may have both played side by side with the same toy, but they weren't truly playing together. I'm not so sure this will be a good thing in the future, especially the teaming up together, but there is something so fulfilling watching my boys forge their own relationship with each other.

Dreaded Mobility

I can't believe I haven't informed all of you about the latest news around here: Nathan is mobile.

It started up sometime last week when I noticed he finally found a way to get to his belly from a sitting position. He leans forward really far, flipping his legs around to behind him. Basically, he leans forward far enough that he does the splits and ends up falling onto his belly. I wish I was half that flexible.

Once on his belly, Nathan is great at getting where he wants to go. He isn't officially crawling yet, with his belly off the floor and everything, but he's mastering the army crawl quickly. The only problem? He can only go backwards. Apparently I had the same problem when I was first learning to crawl. One day the dog came up behind me and nudged me with her nose as if to say, "Silly human baby, you're supposed to go the other way." The story goes that from that day on I always crawled normally.

Amber? Time to step up there, girl!

Seriously, though, I'm not worried about it. He'll figure out how to pull forward with his arms, letting his legs propel him as well, instead of just pushing back with his arms.

In the meantime, he has developed another technique for getting where he wants to go if he doesn't want to get there a roundabout way. He'll stay in a sitting position and pull himself forward with his arms, scooting everywhere. Again, he's really quite efficient with this. We're finding that our baby-proofing is definitely going to be tested over the next few weeks as he is already showing interest in things that Patrick always ignored.

Nathan also pulled up completely on his own yesterday. He's been doing it while holding onto our fingers with little assistance from us, but he finally found a good place to try it on his own. He was standing before I even realized what was happening. It's possible he'll get so interested in walking that he may skip real, normal crawling for now.

I think it may be time to reassemble the baby cage and fill it with safe toys.

Thirty-Four Months

Dear Patrick,

Today you are exactly thirty-four months, a mere two months from turning three years old. Once again, I find myself writing your letter at Nana and Grandpa's, which seems to happen fairly often. The funny part is that despite this phenomenon, we don't see them nearly as often as we used to. Our visits just somehow seem to fall right around the 7th of the month. But that's okay because you seem to take your best pictures in places other than our house--at least your happiest.
One of the month's huge accomplishments is jumping. It's a skill you've been working on for a long time, but only recently have you been able to find yourself actually lifting off the ground. Now you regularly clear several inches every try--and that's a lot of tries. You spend much of your day hopping around, in imitation of frogs, toads, bunnies, and plain old Patrick. I wish I knew how you found all that energy to jump everywhere, when you're not skipping or running like an Olympian. It makes for one worn-out mommy by naptime, but your calves are going to end up very muscular at this rate. It's no wonder you don't gain much weight.

Speaking of that, you still aren't growing very fast. You seem to be growing straight up, but you have very little meat on your bones. Your youngest girl cousin has almost caught up to you already, and I'm sure the rest aren't far behind. It won't be long until even little Corey is handing down his clothes to you.

Recently we had to start a whole new wardrobe for you, one lacking any hard decoration of any kind, especially buttons, zippers, and snaps, so that we could save ourselves needing to repaint the entire house. When we did so, we immediately passed down all your pajama onesies to Nathan, who was barely squeezing into any of his. It was scary to realize that your underweight brother fills out those onesies nearly as well as you do. Once Nathan starts walking, I'm sure I'll start getting asked whether the two of you are twins.

Despite your size, though, you are mature for your age. Oh, not in language, of course--more on that in a minute--and much of the time not in obedience, but you are socially advanced. You want to be so helpful and insist on cleaning up after yourself (unless, of course, I ask you to). You help with Nathan without being bossy and let me know when you see something that needs attending to.

You are also so grown up with showing affection. For the first time in your short life, you are giving hugs and kisses on command and spontaneously. You'll only give them to people you know and love, but you don't hold back. There is nothing better than getting you out of bed in the morning to be greeted by a huge grin followed by a kiss. "Mmm-ma!" This loving side of your personality definitely makes up for all the times your disobedience frustrates me.

Another thing you do right now that I love is carry around Dinosaur. He goes with you everywhere, even outside the house right now. You want to share all your experiences with Dinosaur from meals and naptime to meeting new people and going new places. It is such a stereotypical toddler picture to watch you lugging around your comfort object, and you attract stares of the best kind everywhere we go. If that contagious grin and huge, expressive blue eyes weren't enough, Dinosaur gets smiles from the grumpiest-looking adults.

Unfortunately, your language is still lagging behind. Last week we had your six-month review with Miss Joann from ECI. She'd mentioned recently that your language had improved so much that she thought you might be ready to move on from ECI, that you might have gotten all the help you needed to catch up soon. But when we looked more carefully at all the milestones of all the areas of language development, we realized that you're not really that caught up. Yes, you are talking much more with a huge vocabulary and whole sentences, and we can understand so much more of what you say. But you talk according to your "own agenda," as Miss Joann put it. You talk about what you want to talk about, but you have difficulties holding whole conversations.

It's hard to explain exactly where the problem is because you do respond to questions--sometimes. If I ask you whether you want something and you do, you will repeat what it is you want. "Milk sippy?" "Milk sippy!" You do not answer yes or no, and if the answer is no, I usually don't get a response at all. When I ask an open-ended question, you stare at me blankly; whether it's from confusion or stubbornness, I have no idea. So even though I was hoping that you had advanced enough to outgrow ECI and catch up to normal almost-three-year-olds, you are staying in it for the time being. And in another two months you will graduate to the school district's care, where you will get all sorts of new therapy to have you caught up to your peers.

You ARE growing and maturing in every way, though, even your language. You are communicating so much more now than you were even a few months ago. My dreams of six months ago, before all this ECI stuff, were to be able to communicate enough with you to know your basic needs and hold some conversations about your interests. Even if you're not caught up, you can at least do that. I can understand you when you're upset because Sock Puppet didn't make it into bed with you or that Dinosaur needs a place at the table for lunch or that you want to color with black, not green. I can understand you when you go through all your bedtime phrases, and I can understand when you tell me, "I love you." And that's the one that really matters anyway, at least to me.

I love you too, Patrick.

Mommy