It's been a slow week for cute and hilarious stories. The boys have just been normal cute and hilarious without anything spectacular to report.
Nathan has decided to be an early bird, though. I'm not loving this new phase so much. He wakes up with the sun, basically, and doesn't want to take a nap until I've given up and gotten the house up for the day. Then he decides a nap is mandatory, when I can't go back to sleep. That one has a cruel streak, I think.
At least he's still sleeping well at night. And he's just so cute when he's awake that it's hard not to give him what he wants.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Friday, April 25, 2008
He Cracks Me Up
Thank goodness. Patrick seems to have made a complete recovery from the horrific toe injury. He woke up this morning having forgotten all about the boo-boo.
He still hobbled around most of the day yesterday, though. Matt got to see it when he got home from work, and we just about collapsed in giggles watching him limp with such exaggeration, only using the heel of that foot. I'm laughing again now just remembering.
Then he got hyper, which is inevitable these days, and forgot to limp as he walked. If I hadn't already suspected he was just fine, that proved it. I'm glad he pulled through it; it was rough there for a while (*rolling my eyes*).
He still hobbled around most of the day yesterday, though. Matt got to see it when he got home from work, and we just about collapsed in giggles watching him limp with such exaggeration, only using the heel of that foot. I'm laughing again now just remembering.
Then he got hyper, which is inevitable these days, and forgot to limp as he walked. If I hadn't already suspected he was just fine, that proved it. I'm glad he pulled through it; it was rough there for a while (*rolling my eyes*).
Thursday, April 24, 2008
If There Was Any Doubt
Patrick is so definitely my kid. Today he learned the word "boo-boo," and all of a sudden it's his favorite word.
We were outside playing with the dog (who was really more lolling in the grass) when Patrick slipped on our patio and skinned his knee--just barely. After cleaning it, however, I noticed that his toe was also injured, although whether this happened at the same time the knee was skinned I have no idea.
The toe isn't bad either, just a little skin pulled away from the top of the toenail. It looks a bit uncomfortable but nothing else. In fact, Patrick didn't even notice it until I brought it to his attention by putting a Band-aid on it--his first.
I explained to him that we were putting a Band-aid on his boo-boo to help it feel better faster and at Matt's suggestion gave him some M&M's to help it feel better (and distract him from the Band-aid that he desperately wanted to peel off).
Since then he has been oddly sedate. I've hardly coaxed even a smile out of him, and he keeps looking at the offending toe. When he got up after lunch, his first attempt walking on the foot since the bandaging, he hobbled with an obvious limp to the couch, where he has sat watching Blue's Clues intently ever since, occasionally reaching an arm down that leg, probably to play with the Band-aid, but he keeps resisting the temptation at the last second.
So he can bump his head hard against the table or something without seeming to even notice, but the second I put on a Band-aid, he puts on a show for me. I wonder where he could have picked up such dramatics about injuries...
We were outside playing with the dog (who was really more lolling in the grass) when Patrick slipped on our patio and skinned his knee--just barely. After cleaning it, however, I noticed that his toe was also injured, although whether this happened at the same time the knee was skinned I have no idea.
The toe isn't bad either, just a little skin pulled away from the top of the toenail. It looks a bit uncomfortable but nothing else. In fact, Patrick didn't even notice it until I brought it to his attention by putting a Band-aid on it--his first.
I explained to him that we were putting a Band-aid on his boo-boo to help it feel better faster and at Matt's suggestion gave him some M&M's to help it feel better (and distract him from the Band-aid that he desperately wanted to peel off).
Since then he has been oddly sedate. I've hardly coaxed even a smile out of him, and he keeps looking at the offending toe. When he got up after lunch, his first attempt walking on the foot since the bandaging, he hobbled with an obvious limp to the couch, where he has sat watching Blue's Clues intently ever since, occasionally reaching an arm down that leg, probably to play with the Band-aid, but he keeps resisting the temptation at the last second.
So he can bump his head hard against the table or something without seeming to even notice, but the second I put on a Band-aid, he puts on a show for me. I wonder where he could have picked up such dramatics about injuries...
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Amber Unintentionally Calms the Boy
Patrick woke up from yesterday's nap crying. This happens often. You see, he insists on his full nighttime routine even for naps. This includes covering him with every single blanket in the house, nearly. When he's particularly tired, he forgets to shed the extra coverings before dozing off. In the winter, this isn't a big problem. Matt and I are cheap enough that we keep the house a bit cool in the winter to save on heating bills.
In the sudden summer that hit...oh, Monday here...this can be a real problem. We're equally as cheap in warm weather, so the house is fairly toasty all the time. The ceiling fans only help the problem minimally. So when Patrick forgets to toss off the covers before falling asleep, he wakes up miserably hot. Cue the crying.
There's little I can do to help him feel better until he has cooled off, so I usually give him a few minutes to crawl out from the sweat-soaked covers and compose himself before rescuing him. After all, why should I frustrate myself trying to calm him down when all it needs is time, something he can take care of on his own?
But yesterday the few minutes weren't enough. I had to go help calm him down. I decided when I saw his sweaty hair that one of his favorite activities might be in order--a bath. I left him in his room for another couple of minutes while I gathered everything for his bath.
While I'm gone, I notice the crying has stopped. A minute later from his room: "Ah-boo. Ge dah. Ge. Dah. Ah-boo!" When I peek into his room, I'm already prepared for the scene. Patrick hasn't moved an inch from his spot in bed, but Amber is sitting at the foot of his bed. She's not doing anything but apparently it bothers him that she's there.
He is lying down, barely suppressing his giggles, as he adamantly tells Amber to get down off the bed. I was already smiling at this when I noticed the kicker: he had his pointer finger out, admonishing her, waving it around as though this is what would coax her off the bed more than his harsh words.
Funny enough, she didn't quickly respond to my orders to get off the bed either, as it was barely audible between my own giggles.
By the way, when he got out of bed, he'd left a Patrick-shaped sweatstain on the sheets. Poor thing. No wonder he woke up crying.
In the sudden summer that hit...oh, Monday here...this can be a real problem. We're equally as cheap in warm weather, so the house is fairly toasty all the time. The ceiling fans only help the problem minimally. So when Patrick forgets to toss off the covers before falling asleep, he wakes up miserably hot. Cue the crying.
There's little I can do to help him feel better until he has cooled off, so I usually give him a few minutes to crawl out from the sweat-soaked covers and compose himself before rescuing him. After all, why should I frustrate myself trying to calm him down when all it needs is time, something he can take care of on his own?
But yesterday the few minutes weren't enough. I had to go help calm him down. I decided when I saw his sweaty hair that one of his favorite activities might be in order--a bath. I left him in his room for another couple of minutes while I gathered everything for his bath.
While I'm gone, I notice the crying has stopped. A minute later from his room: "Ah-boo. Ge dah. Ge. Dah. Ah-boo!" When I peek into his room, I'm already prepared for the scene. Patrick hasn't moved an inch from his spot in bed, but Amber is sitting at the foot of his bed. She's not doing anything but apparently it bothers him that she's there.
He is lying down, barely suppressing his giggles, as he adamantly tells Amber to get down off the bed. I was already smiling at this when I noticed the kicker: he had his pointer finger out, admonishing her, waving it around as though this is what would coax her off the bed more than his harsh words.
Funny enough, she didn't quickly respond to my orders to get off the bed either, as it was barely audible between my own giggles.
By the way, when he got out of bed, he'd left a Patrick-shaped sweatstain on the sheets. Poor thing. No wonder he woke up crying.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Seven Months
Dear Nathan,
Seven months sounds so old. You're not my little newborn anymore. While I miss those sweet, precious newborn days, I wouldn't trade the sweet you I've come to know for anything.
I remember thinking when your brother was this age that this was my favorite age for him and I didn't want him to grow up any. I knew I'd always look back to when he was 6-7 months and think fondly of that time. I'm reminded often of that as you go through the same age.
There's just something so cool about getting to watch your personality develop, to watch as you develop an interest in toys (and puppy dogs)--yet you stay so happy most of the time. You embrace the world around you that you are just beginning to become fully aware of, but you haven't learned yet that sometimes you have control over it and sometimes you don't--one of the leading causes of toddler tantrums, I believe.
Even more than most babies your age, you are still so happy. I know I say this every month, but it still astounds me every month--every day even. All it takes is a glance or a goofy face or Patrick being...well, Patrick and you break out in the biggest grin with those adorable dimples. Your laugh and smile never fail to get a smile out of any of us, no matter how early in the morning it is.
You have started babbling lots as well. If you need something, even just attention, you'll start with the babbling before moving onto whining and crying. I have to admit that I'm a lot more likely to rush into your room after your nap when I hear you calling out, "Mamamamamama," than when you scream. And I know I'm just that biased mom saying it, but I think you may sort of connect your words with the responses you get. You say, "Mamama," when you want something from me and "Dadada" when you want Daddy's attention. I'm not sure what you want when you say, "Nanananana" yet, but that's another of your favorites.
Speaking of "nana," Patrick's word for bananas (and Nana), you are doing extremely well with the whole eating thing. You eat everything you're offered and love solid foods. Maybe we were unintentionally starving you and that's why your weight gain was tapering off just a bit because now you can't get enough. You're already eating stage two foods (Gerber's) and love trying new flavors. I haven't found one you won't eat, although you do give great faces for green beans. We are also trying some true solid foods for you, at the doctor's suggestion. He wants you to know how to handle a Cheerio or goldfish the first time Patrick decides to share one with you and I can't intercept it in time. So far we have only tried you on tiny pieces of banana, but you've handled it well. You just gum it until it feels like the normal pureed food.
Lately you've had a hard time deciding who your favorite family member is. You love me because I feed you, attend to most of your needs, and love on you. You love Daddy with that wide-eyed awe and strive to get his attention any time he's around, even when I'm feeding you in bed on Saturday mornings when he's sleeping next to me. But the real challenge is between Patrick and Amber. You idolize Patrick and think everything he does is funny (don't encourage him!). You're desperate for attention from him even more than Daddy, and even when it's not the most gentle attention. But Amber--you get plenty of attention from her and put up with lengthy bathings from her and clearly love it. Today at lunch you were sitting in your little rocking chair while the rest of us ate, and Amber was sitting at your feet. You kept rocking forward and leaning over to try to reach her. I think you would sit all day with at least one hand on the puppy if she would let you.
You're moving through all your milestones so fast. You realize your brother wasn't sitting competently like you are until he was about nine months old? I highly suspect you'll be crawling by then, a feat he didn't accomplish until he was over a year old. You're already quite competent at getting where you want to go by squirming. You're really good at it on your back, but now that you've figured out you can do it on your belly too, the position isn't as awful for you. I think that will quickly prompt you to try really crawling. And that's when the real parenting begins, especially since we have all of Patrick's "dangerous" toys strewn all over the floor at any given time.
But please don't be in a rush to grow up too fast. While I get excited about each new milestone, I know that we have entered a new stage and left the last one behind. I'm never quite ready to leave that last stage behind (except perhaps for the night-wakings stage). But even if you do rush through all these stages in front of you, I'll keep loving you exactly for who you are. You are absolutely precious to me, a fact you insist on reminding me of every single day. You are a joy to be around, something I hope I can remember when you hit the surly teenager stage. Hopefully you will continue to grow up just as happy and easygoing as you are right now. You will if I have anything to say about it...but I'll love you with all my heart no matter how you end up.
Seven months sounds so old. You're not my little newborn anymore. While I miss those sweet, precious newborn days, I wouldn't trade the sweet you I've come to know for anything.
I remember thinking when your brother was this age that this was my favorite age for him and I didn't want him to grow up any. I knew I'd always look back to when he was 6-7 months and think fondly of that time. I'm reminded often of that as you go through the same age.
There's just something so cool about getting to watch your personality develop, to watch as you develop an interest in toys (and puppy dogs)--yet you stay so happy most of the time. You embrace the world around you that you are just beginning to become fully aware of, but you haven't learned yet that sometimes you have control over it and sometimes you don't--one of the leading causes of toddler tantrums, I believe.
Even more than most babies your age, you are still so happy. I know I say this every month, but it still astounds me every month--every day even. All it takes is a glance or a goofy face or Patrick being...well, Patrick and you break out in the biggest grin with those adorable dimples. Your laugh and smile never fail to get a smile out of any of us, no matter how early in the morning it is.
You have started babbling lots as well. If you need something, even just attention, you'll start with the babbling before moving onto whining and crying. I have to admit that I'm a lot more likely to rush into your room after your nap when I hear you calling out, "Mamamamamama," than when you scream. And I know I'm just that biased mom saying it, but I think you may sort of connect your words with the responses you get. You say, "Mamama," when you want something from me and "Dadada" when you want Daddy's attention. I'm not sure what you want when you say, "Nanananana" yet, but that's another of your favorites.
Speaking of "nana," Patrick's word for bananas (and Nana), you are doing extremely well with the whole eating thing. You eat everything you're offered and love solid foods. Maybe we were unintentionally starving you and that's why your weight gain was tapering off just a bit because now you can't get enough. You're already eating stage two foods (Gerber's) and love trying new flavors. I haven't found one you won't eat, although you do give great faces for green beans. We are also trying some true solid foods for you, at the doctor's suggestion. He wants you to know how to handle a Cheerio or goldfish the first time Patrick decides to share one with you and I can't intercept it in time. So far we have only tried you on tiny pieces of banana, but you've handled it well. You just gum it until it feels like the normal pureed food.
Lately you've had a hard time deciding who your favorite family member is. You love me because I feed you, attend to most of your needs, and love on you. You love Daddy with that wide-eyed awe and strive to get his attention any time he's around, even when I'm feeding you in bed on Saturday mornings when he's sleeping next to me. But the real challenge is between Patrick and Amber. You idolize Patrick and think everything he does is funny (don't encourage him!). You're desperate for attention from him even more than Daddy, and even when it's not the most gentle attention. But Amber--you get plenty of attention from her and put up with lengthy bathings from her and clearly love it. Today at lunch you were sitting in your little rocking chair while the rest of us ate, and Amber was sitting at your feet. You kept rocking forward and leaning over to try to reach her. I think you would sit all day with at least one hand on the puppy if she would let you.
You're moving through all your milestones so fast. You realize your brother wasn't sitting competently like you are until he was about nine months old? I highly suspect you'll be crawling by then, a feat he didn't accomplish until he was over a year old. You're already quite competent at getting where you want to go by squirming. You're really good at it on your back, but now that you've figured out you can do it on your belly too, the position isn't as awful for you. I think that will quickly prompt you to try really crawling. And that's when the real parenting begins, especially since we have all of Patrick's "dangerous" toys strewn all over the floor at any given time.
But please don't be in a rush to grow up too fast. While I get excited about each new milestone, I know that we have entered a new stage and left the last one behind. I'm never quite ready to leave that last stage behind (except perhaps for the night-wakings stage). But even if you do rush through all these stages in front of you, I'll keep loving you exactly for who you are. You are absolutely precious to me, a fact you insist on reminding me of every single day. You are a joy to be around, something I hope I can remember when you hit the surly teenager stage. Hopefully you will continue to grow up just as happy and easygoing as you are right now. You will if I have anything to say about it...but I'll love you with all my heart no matter how you end up.Love,
Mommy
Monday, April 21, 2008
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Boys Will Be Boys
I think my years teaching freshmen prepared me to be the mom of two boys. Do you think boys are born with that sense of humor we associate with little boys? Because Patrick seems to have it.
We've had a couple of bad allergy days around here, and as a result, Patrick has learned the word "booger." He giggles uncontrollably every time he says it, too. I'd like to think it's just a funny-sounding word, but more than likely it's just that boogers are innately funny.
So are farts and fart noises. Last night for dinner we were having French fries, which of course need ketchup. The ketchup made that fart noise as Matt squeezed some out, and Patrick immediately started laughing. It was the funniest thing he'd heard all day.
Then this morning, I watched as he strained and his face turned red. He wasn't pooping, though, because a second later, I heard a loud fart echo in his booster chair. He laughed so hard at that one, immediately saying, "poot," right after it happened and then declaring it "yucky."
I'm afraid I'm not helping matters by laughing along with him. I try not to giggle, but I find situations like that funny even before Patrick reacts to them (thank you freshmen boys). Then when Patrick starts laughing, I can't help myself. Oh, well, he'd learn the humor in bodily functions by the time he got in elementary school anyway, right? He might as well be precocious in this area.
We've had a couple of bad allergy days around here, and as a result, Patrick has learned the word "booger." He giggles uncontrollably every time he says it, too. I'd like to think it's just a funny-sounding word, but more than likely it's just that boogers are innately funny.
So are farts and fart noises. Last night for dinner we were having French fries, which of course need ketchup. The ketchup made that fart noise as Matt squeezed some out, and Patrick immediately started laughing. It was the funniest thing he'd heard all day.
Then this morning, I watched as he strained and his face turned red. He wasn't pooping, though, because a second later, I heard a loud fart echo in his booster chair. He laughed so hard at that one, immediately saying, "poot," right after it happened and then declaring it "yucky."
I'm afraid I'm not helping matters by laughing along with him. I try not to giggle, but I find situations like that funny even before Patrick reacts to them (thank you freshmen boys). Then when Patrick starts laughing, I can't help myself. Oh, well, he'd learn the humor in bodily functions by the time he got in elementary school anyway, right? He might as well be precocious in this area.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
