My life is pretty crazy these days so I'm finding it hard to find time to right. Hopefully things will slow down a bit as the Christmas season approaches. I'll cross my fingers. I've made a list of all of things I wanted to write about in my blog. I probably won't get through them all today. But I will write again soon, I promise!
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A few weeks ago baby boy came up to me and said, "Give mommy kiss?" I leaned in and accepted a big smooch. Afterwards, Daddy asked, "Hey, where's my kiss?" After considering the idea, baby boy said "No."
"Doesn't Daddy get kisses?"
He thought about it for a second and then replied, "Sometimes."
Poor Daddy!
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As hubby was loading the little guy into the car the other day, he repeat over and over, "I want to go Loblaws." Daddy asked "Why do you want to go to Loblaws?" Baby boy looked at him like he had two heads and replied in a "duhhhh" tone of voice, "To buy groceries!"
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M Baby has recently discovered the healing power of kisses. Kisses magically make all boo-boos disappear. When he hurt one of his fingers one day as I was picking him up from daycare he said, "Mommy kiss better?"
One of the other kids watched as I gave his finger an "all better" kiss, and decided to come to the rescue as well. He grabbed baby boy's finger, which was still outstretched, and goobered all over it. It seemed to do the trick - I never heard another word about a sore finger!
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Our caregivers family just adopted a 2-year old cat, to my son's delight. When I was dropping him off one morning, the cat greeted us at the door. Normally I get a good-bye hug and kiss or, at the very least, a wave. Nothing. I was completely forgotten as he tore off through the house after that cat yelling, "Pat his nose!" I'm not sure if the cat quite appreciates how lucky he is!
Speaking of baby boy's affection for that cat....I caught he offering his beloved tee-tee to the cat one day. If one of the other kids at daycare even looks at his tee-tee sideways, he completely freaks out. But apparently sharing with the cat is okay.
Which reminds me....sharing is becoming a big thing these days. M Baby loves the praise that gets heaped on him when he shares nicely. But there is one toy in particular that he flat out refuses to share. It's a little red car that he carries around with him all day long. When he leaves at the end of the day, it takes a lot of persuasion to get it out of his tight little grip. One morning our caregiver looked high and low for that car and couldn't find it. Then, all of a sudden, the little guy appeared with it in his hand. It seems that he has taken to hiding his car before he leaves each night, so none of the other kids can play with it.
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"I want see" comes out of his mouth about a thousand times a day. He drags the footstool around the kitchen, and pulls it up to wherever the action is.
If you're making coffee, he's right in there. "I want see making coffee."
If you're slicing up an orange, "I want see oranges." And so on.
One evening, Hubby was making one of our favourite Chinese recipes. To make this dish, you have to stew hard-boiled eggs in a sauce. The little guy pulled up his stool to watch as the eggs went into the sauce-filled pot. After observing for a few moments he said, "I want watch eggs swimming."
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Toilet training isn't proceeding as quickly as we'd like. Case and point: A couple of weeks ago, following a bath, he peed on the bed. When daddy put him on the floor to clean up the mess, he peed all over the carpet.
Daddy decided it was an opportunity to have a talk about his potty, which was only a foot away from the puddle on the floor (sigh). He explained to the little guy that when he felt like pee-pee was about to come out, he should go sit on his potty. They talked about the virtues of the potty for a few minutes. The little guy seemed to understand, and behaved almost enthusiastic about the idea. Daddy concluded the conversation by asking, "Where do you go pee-pee?" to which baby boy replied, "On the floor!" One step forward, two steps back......
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Building blocks are becoming all the rage around our toy box. The little guy loves to build houses. When it's time to bring out the blocks, he says "I want to buy a house." Translation: I want to build a house.
I have to say, he's come up with some pretty interesting house designs, including ones with:
- integrated "bubble machines." I think he may be on to something....
- Decorative "cheese wedge" sconces
- Roof-top garages
- Special animal access windows for birds, horses, giraffes, cows etc...In case they want to stop in to play.
- built in amusement vehicles such as canoes, trucks and tractors
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We have a toy pirate ship. He calls the crows nest the "high table." And he using the sail as a change mat to change the dirty pirate diapers :-)
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The little guy loves shopping for groceries. If we don't have plans to go to the store, he takes matters into his own hands.
Often, he grabs one of our reusable shopping bags, throws it over he shoulder and heads for the front door yelling, "Bye! See yah!" When we ask him where he's going he says, "Go buy gross-ries."
Normally the conversation goes like this:
"Okay, bye! Oh when you're at the grocery store can you buy some eggs and some milk?"
"Okay. Buy eggs...milk. I going buy a pie. Go get pie, gross-ries."
"Oh, and can you buy some cereal?"
"Okay. Bye, see yah!....I go buy pie. Open the door?"
I think that if we actually opened up the door, he'd head down to Loblaws on his own.
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That's it for now. More to come soon! After all, someone is turning two later this week. I'll have to document all the festivities!
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Monday, November 05, 2007
Sunday, November 04, 2007
Saturday, November 03, 2007
It's hockey, hockey, hockey all the time!
"I want play hockey!" he demands morning, noon and night.
"I want hockey stick!"
"I want watch hockey!"
We don't have a hockey stick for him yet, but it's next on the toy purchase list. The tree branches that we scavenge at the park and "pretend" are hockey sticks just aren't cutting it anymore. Especially when he sees bigger kids playing with "real" hockey sticks.
His interest in hockey began a month or so again when we took him into an arena and watched some teen-aged girl hockey team practicing. It was a mixed experience. He loved watching the action on the ice, but wasn't too keen on the cold temperature or the loud banging of pucks against the glass. On the way out of the rink he said, "Hockey's nice, but too loud."
Since then he's discovered that playing ball hockey is nice too, and much quieter! I took him to the park a couple of weekends ago, and one of the other kids let him play with his plastic hockey sticks. The boy has been hooked ever since!
Right now, most of his joy of the sport comes in the form of swinging a stick around in the air (we're still working on his stick handling skills.....he's a bit of a high sticker). That, and any game that involves chasing a ball around is pretty cool in his eyes.
Watch out hockey fans - this little guy will soon be taking to the ice!
"I want hockey stick!"
"I want watch hockey!"
We don't have a hockey stick for him yet, but it's next on the toy purchase list. The tree branches that we scavenge at the park and "pretend" are hockey sticks just aren't cutting it anymore. Especially when he sees bigger kids playing with "real" hockey sticks.
His interest in hockey began a month or so again when we took him into an arena and watched some teen-aged girl hockey team practicing. It was a mixed experience. He loved watching the action on the ice, but wasn't too keen on the cold temperature or the loud banging of pucks against the glass. On the way out of the rink he said, "Hockey's nice, but too loud."
Since then he's discovered that playing ball hockey is nice too, and much quieter! I took him to the park a couple of weekends ago, and one of the other kids let him play with his plastic hockey sticks. The boy has been hooked ever since!
Right now, most of his joy of the sport comes in the form of swinging a stick around in the air (we're still working on his stick handling skills.....he's a bit of a high sticker). That, and any game that involves chasing a ball around is pretty cool in his eyes.
Watch out hockey fans - this little guy will soon be taking to the ice!
Friday, November 02, 2007
How it all began
Hubby asked me today if I ever posted our birth story on the blog. Since this blog is very much a diary of Baby Boy's early years, I thought it was a good idea. It's almost two years out of date, but here it is all the same, told from the perspective of daddy (note: I've used initials instead of proper names):
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Baby boy's birth was a literally a wild ride. JK had been having some false labor up until about 11:00pm on Tuesday when she fell asleep. At 3:00am (of course) she was awakened by a loud popping sound which was her water breaking. At that point and for about the next hour her contractions were very strong and 5 minutes apart. We called the midwife, CB, and she said call back in an hour, or sooner if anything changes. With first babies the assumption is that labor will carry on like this for hours. My role was pretty much non-existent at this point. JK fell into a trance-like state and did not want to be touched (except by the hot water in the shower).
One hour later, I called CB and said that the last three contractions came 2 minutes apart! In minutes CB was at our door. When she performed the initial assessment JK was FULLY dilated but unfortunately Baby Boy was breech (all our efforts in the preceding weeks to turn him had either failed or the little bugger managed to turn back). Anyway, at this point CB said I'm sorry but from here on out this isn't going to happen the way you planned. We're going to the hospital now, in an ambulance (this was the wild ride part), and an emergency c-section is really the only safe option now. On the way to the hospital JK was instructed that under no circumstance should she push at all, no matter what. Otherwise a very high-risk delivery in the ambulance was a distinct possibility.
Had Baby Boy been facing head down there is no way we would have had time to make it to the hospital, CB would later estimate that he would have been born before 5:00am if all had been well. But make it to the hospital we did. Once there I was immediately sent to attend to some administrative details (i.e., they made sure I was out of the way while they sized up the situation). I thought this was pretty lame, and JK was distressed by my absence and protested that the operation not start until I returned. They assured her it would not and when I returned I was sent off to change into hospital scrubs and then met JK and the team in the OR. JK was all ready to go: epidural had been administered; beeping machines had been attached; cloth barrier to block JK's view had been erected; obstetrician Dr. D--who was taking over primary care of JK (CB was to retain care of Baby Boy)--had scalpel in hand; the resident looked eager to observe; nurses looked eager to nurse; an old salty-looking surgeon with white hair and a pirate-style bandana (instead of the standard issue paper hat) stood back looking sleepy; the anesthesiologist scurried around cracking jokes ("JO, you are welcome to stand and watch the whole thing, or sit on this chair. But if you get dizzy at any point and feel like you might faint, just lay on the floor over there, we find that that position gives fathers the least distance to fall if they do faint). The procedure unfolded rather quickly--like clockwork really. Clearly they had done this once or twice before. As the moment arrived to reach in and pluck Baby Boy from the womb I leaned in for a better look. CB explained that this would be the tricky part and that it might look bad because JK was fully dilated, and with Baby Boy in a full breech position he was wedged deep in her pelvis. With vigor, Dr. D tried twice to dislodge him, but he wouldn't budge, and with that the old surgeon elbowed Dr. D out of the way, reached in with his giant hands and with some effort and a grunt brought Baby Boy into the world on the first pull. I was completely astounded by the sight of Baby Boy. While JK couldn't see the delivery she could see my face, so she knew the exact moment when he arrived by the widening of my eyes.
Baby Boy's one minute Apgar score was 9/10 (blue hands and feet kept him from scoring a ten). JK and Baby Boy were only allowed to meet for a few seconds before CB, Baby Boy and I were ushered out of the OR and over to a nursery on the other side of the building. By now Baby Boy's temperature was 36 degrees so they laid him on my chest inside my shirt and piled warm blankets on us--which they obtained from a very slick automatic warm blanket-dispensing machine. This was the hardest part for JK (and Baby Boy and I) because she ended up being separated from us for over an hour. Our spirits improved considerably when we were reunited in the recovery room, and everyone was amazed when Baby Boy nursed within 10 seconds of being presented to JK.
In the days that followed the hospital environment was a bit stressful with constant interruptions and people looking over our shoulders, but the staff were very kind and with it being the 'HM' we had lots of opportunities to practice our official languages. Though most of the staff spoke English, there were many baby-specific and health care-specific Engish and French terms that they/we did not know, so comedy ensued with our attempts to understand each other. We left the hospital after two nights, and life has been much better since we returned home.
*************************
Baby boy's birth was a literally a wild ride. JK had been having some false labor up until about 11:00pm on Tuesday when she fell asleep. At 3:00am (of course) she was awakened by a loud popping sound which was her water breaking. At that point and for about the next hour her contractions were very strong and 5 minutes apart. We called the midwife, CB, and she said call back in an hour, or sooner if anything changes. With first babies the assumption is that labor will carry on like this for hours. My role was pretty much non-existent at this point. JK fell into a trance-like state and did not want to be touched (except by the hot water in the shower).
One hour later, I called CB and said that the last three contractions came 2 minutes apart! In minutes CB was at our door. When she performed the initial assessment JK was FULLY dilated but unfortunately Baby Boy was breech (all our efforts in the preceding weeks to turn him had either failed or the little bugger managed to turn back). Anyway, at this point CB said I'm sorry but from here on out this isn't going to happen the way you planned. We're going to the hospital now, in an ambulance (this was the wild ride part), and an emergency c-section is really the only safe option now. On the way to the hospital JK was instructed that under no circumstance should she push at all, no matter what. Otherwise a very high-risk delivery in the ambulance was a distinct possibility.
Had Baby Boy been facing head down there is no way we would have had time to make it to the hospital, CB would later estimate that he would have been born before 5:00am if all had been well. But make it to the hospital we did. Once there I was immediately sent to attend to some administrative details (i.e., they made sure I was out of the way while they sized up the situation). I thought this was pretty lame, and JK was distressed by my absence and protested that the operation not start until I returned. They assured her it would not and when I returned I was sent off to change into hospital scrubs and then met JK and the team in the OR. JK was all ready to go: epidural had been administered; beeping machines had been attached; cloth barrier to block JK's view had been erected; obstetrician Dr. D--who was taking over primary care of JK (CB was to retain care of Baby Boy)--had scalpel in hand; the resident looked eager to observe; nurses looked eager to nurse; an old salty-looking surgeon with white hair and a pirate-style bandana (instead of the standard issue paper hat) stood back looking sleepy; the anesthesiologist scurried around cracking jokes ("JO, you are welcome to stand and watch the whole thing, or sit on this chair. But if you get dizzy at any point and feel like you might faint, just lay on the floor over there, we find that that position gives fathers the least distance to fall if they do faint). The procedure unfolded rather quickly--like clockwork really. Clearly they had done this once or twice before. As the moment arrived to reach in and pluck Baby Boy from the womb I leaned in for a better look. CB explained that this would be the tricky part and that it might look bad because JK was fully dilated, and with Baby Boy in a full breech position he was wedged deep in her pelvis. With vigor, Dr. D tried twice to dislodge him, but he wouldn't budge, and with that the old surgeon elbowed Dr. D out of the way, reached in with his giant hands and with some effort and a grunt brought Baby Boy into the world on the first pull. I was completely astounded by the sight of Baby Boy. While JK couldn't see the delivery she could see my face, so she knew the exact moment when he arrived by the widening of my eyes.
Baby Boy's one minute Apgar score was 9/10 (blue hands and feet kept him from scoring a ten). JK and Baby Boy were only allowed to meet for a few seconds before CB, Baby Boy and I were ushered out of the OR and over to a nursery on the other side of the building. By now Baby Boy's temperature was 36 degrees so they laid him on my chest inside my shirt and piled warm blankets on us--which they obtained from a very slick automatic warm blanket-dispensing machine. This was the hardest part for JK (and Baby Boy and I) because she ended up being separated from us for over an hour. Our spirits improved considerably when we were reunited in the recovery room, and everyone was amazed when Baby Boy nursed within 10 seconds of being presented to JK.
In the days that followed the hospital environment was a bit stressful with constant interruptions and people looking over our shoulders, but the staff were very kind and with it being the 'HM' we had lots of opportunities to practice our official languages. Though most of the staff spoke English, there were many baby-specific and health care-specific Engish and French terms that they/we did not know, so comedy ensued with our attempts to understand each other. We left the hospital after two nights, and life has been much better since we returned home.
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