It's a three day process getting organized for a trip. My stuff is easy. It's packing for the little guy that is a challenge. There are so many things to remember, like his favourite teetee (blanket) and his car-shaped toothbrush. And of course you have to bring toys -- lots and lot of toys. And books. And diapers and wipes. I've been trying to calculate how many diapers he averages per day. I gave up and decided to pack lots of them. Heck, if there aren't enough, I'm pretty sure that they have drug stores in San Antonio :)
I'm packing lots and lots of clothes, knowing full well that we won't use them all. But with toddlers, there are always unexpected spills. And, in the case of my toddler, he's picky about what he wears. Really picky. So every morning we give him a choice between two or three different shirts and pants. Sometimes he ends up looking pretty goofy with mismatched shirts, pants and socks but we all have to pick our battles. I'm just happy when he decides to wear anything!
One thing I've learned from past experience is to pack lots and lots of snacks for the ride. Airplanes are boring, and eating is something to do to pass the time. Also, depending on where you are sitting on the plane, you have to wait forever to be served. And one thing my toddler isn't very good at is waiting. I think he gets that from me....So I'm going to put together a big sack of food.
After I'm finally done packing and checking off the million or so items on my to-do list, I'll definitely be ready for this vacation!
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Don't drink the water!
Baby boy still hates baths. He kicks, screams, cries, begs etc...to get out of them. We've tried every trick in the book to get him excited about bath time. Nothing works.
Lately, he hasn't been bathing as often as we'd like him to. He's about as easy to get into a bathtub as a cat (need I say more!). We tend to just sponge him down with a soapy wet cloth and put off the inevitable. Until, of course, his hair gets dirty.
Today was a hair wash day. Daddy got into the bath with him, which sometimes helps to calm him down a bit. To some extent it did work. Once baby boy's hair was washed, he threw buckets of water on daddy's head. That went over well. He even smiled and laughed a bit.
After he was out of the tub and dried off, I asked him if he wanted to pee on the potty.
"No," he said. "I peed in the bath."
Boy am I glad I wasn't the one who volunteered to get in the tub with him today!
Lately, he hasn't been bathing as often as we'd like him to. He's about as easy to get into a bathtub as a cat (need I say more!). We tend to just sponge him down with a soapy wet cloth and put off the inevitable. Until, of course, his hair gets dirty.
Today was a hair wash day. Daddy got into the bath with him, which sometimes helps to calm him down a bit. To some extent it did work. Once baby boy's hair was washed, he threw buckets of water on daddy's head. That went over well. He even smiled and laughed a bit.
After he was out of the tub and dried off, I asked him if he wanted to pee on the potty.
"No," he said. "I peed in the bath."
Boy am I glad I wasn't the one who volunteered to get in the tub with him today!
Friday, February 15, 2008
Move mommy!
"Move mommy!" the little guy yells, whenever I happen to be in the way of where he wants to go.
My standard response is, "That's not very polite. What do you say when you want someone to move out of the way?"
"'Scuse please mommy, I want that!"
******************************
Big excitement. We tried out the real skates. They worked way better than those stupid bob skates with the nylon straps. No constant adjusting and readjusting. These babies just pulled onto his feet and then snapped shut with a ski boot-type buckle.
He looked so cute gliding along the canal with his tiny little skates and bike helmet. Out of all the kids out there, he was by far the youngest which gained him a lot of attention.
I thought he'd get tuckered out after 10 minutes. Not so. He skated for an hour straight -- no word of a lie. What shocked me even more was how quickly he got his balance on one blade. After awhile he didn't want to hold hand any more. He just let go and skated on his own, as though he'd come out of the womb wearing a pair of hockey skates.
Photos to follow soon.
My standard response is, "That's not very polite. What do you say when you want someone to move out of the way?"
"'Scuse please mommy, I want that!"
******************************
Big excitement. We tried out the real skates. They worked way better than those stupid bob skates with the nylon straps. No constant adjusting and readjusting. These babies just pulled onto his feet and then snapped shut with a ski boot-type buckle.
He looked so cute gliding along the canal with his tiny little skates and bike helmet. Out of all the kids out there, he was by far the youngest which gained him a lot of attention.
I thought he'd get tuckered out after 10 minutes. Not so. He skated for an hour straight -- no word of a lie. What shocked me even more was how quickly he got his balance on one blade. After awhile he didn't want to hold hand any more. He just let go and skated on his own, as though he'd come out of the womb wearing a pair of hockey skates.
Photos to follow soon.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Baby boy is going into French immersion
There are no ifs, ands or buts about it -- he's going into French immersion.
I did not have the advantage of a good French education when I was growing up. During those early years when I was a sponge for acquiring new languages, I attended an all English school. French classes were a part of the curriculum, but all we really did was conjugate verbs and read silly stories. I was only taught the simple verb tenses, and only the most basic skills in oral French (i.e. bonjour et au revoir).
Every day I curse my parents for not putting me into French immersion. My life would be a lot different now if they had.
Right now I'm stalled in my career. I have all of the necessary skills and experience to advance up the ladder, except I'm not "fluently" bilingual. Or, more accurately, I can read and write in French quite well, but I have trouble speaking the language.
I've been luckier than many of my western colleagues. My organization sent me for 8 months of full-time language training in 2005. In that time I went from almost square one to an intermediate level. This is something I'm really proud of. But at the same time I can't help feeling a little discouraged. I still have a long way to go to get to the language level it takes to get ahead in my line of work, and it's hard to do on a part-time basis when you are balancing a career with motherhood. My life is complicated enough right now without adding a second language!
Tonight I spent two hours doing French homework, constantly flipping back and forth from my page to the French-English dictionary. This in itself was an indication of just how much work it will take to get to the next level. One thing is for sure: once I get there I can't lose momentum because if you don't use it, you lose it.
I think that putting the little guy into French immersion will have a lot of payoffs down the road. It will also be a chance for us to learn together, because we're both going to be in it for the long haul.
I did not have the advantage of a good French education when I was growing up. During those early years when I was a sponge for acquiring new languages, I attended an all English school. French classes were a part of the curriculum, but all we really did was conjugate verbs and read silly stories. I was only taught the simple verb tenses, and only the most basic skills in oral French (i.e. bonjour et au revoir).
Every day I curse my parents for not putting me into French immersion. My life would be a lot different now if they had.
Right now I'm stalled in my career. I have all of the necessary skills and experience to advance up the ladder, except I'm not "fluently" bilingual. Or, more accurately, I can read and write in French quite well, but I have trouble speaking the language.
I've been luckier than many of my western colleagues. My organization sent me for 8 months of full-time language training in 2005. In that time I went from almost square one to an intermediate level. This is something I'm really proud of. But at the same time I can't help feeling a little discouraged. I still have a long way to go to get to the language level it takes to get ahead in my line of work, and it's hard to do on a part-time basis when you are balancing a career with motherhood. My life is complicated enough right now without adding a second language!
Tonight I spent two hours doing French homework, constantly flipping back and forth from my page to the French-English dictionary. This in itself was an indication of just how much work it will take to get to the next level. One thing is for sure: once I get there I can't lose momentum because if you don't use it, you lose it.
I think that putting the little guy into French immersion will have a lot of payoffs down the road. It will also be a chance for us to learn together, because we're both going to be in it for the long haul.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Another first
For the five minutes that baby boy's bob skates actually worked, he was on cloud nine. You should have seen the grin on his face as we glided hand in hand along the canal. It was a dream come true.
The slipperiness of the ice startled him at first, and his legs went all willy nilly. When he realized that mommy and daddy were there to catch him, he relaxed. We watched in amazement at how quickly he learned to balance himself. Once he had gained his "skate legs," he immediately began asking us for a hockey stick. I guess he figured he would be an instant hockey pro. We never got the chance to find out. Those cheap, lousy bob skates came loose and wouldn't stay on his feet. After several repair jobs, one of the skates completely broke apart. The skate party was over.
This unfortunate turn of events was devastating to the little guy. He wailed and wailed as we removed the blades from his boots. The only way we could distract him from his sorrow was to buy him a beaver tail. That worked long enough for hubby and I to get a skate in of our own. Baby boy just munched on his treat as we wheeled him down the ice.
Yesterday we bought him a proper pair of ice skates at a used sports store. We'll be hitting the ice again soon to try them out.
The slipperiness of the ice startled him at first, and his legs went all willy nilly. When he realized that mommy and daddy were there to catch him, he relaxed. We watched in amazement at how quickly he learned to balance himself. Once he had gained his "skate legs," he immediately began asking us for a hockey stick. I guess he figured he would be an instant hockey pro. We never got the chance to find out. Those cheap, lousy bob skates came loose and wouldn't stay on his feet. After several repair jobs, one of the skates completely broke apart. The skate party was over.
This unfortunate turn of events was devastating to the little guy. He wailed and wailed as we removed the blades from his boots. The only way we could distract him from his sorrow was to buy him a beaver tail. That worked long enough for hubby and I to get a skate in of our own. Baby boy just munched on his treat as we wheeled him down the ice.
Yesterday we bought him a proper pair of ice skates at a used sports store. We'll be hitting the ice again soon to try them out.
Saturday, February 09, 2008
Dirty Dancing live on stage!
When I pulled the full page ad out of the paper, I shrieked like a teen-aged girl at a rock concert. Dirty Dancing live on stage in Toronto! The ad suggested tickets were the perfect Valentine's Day gift, so I read the ad out loud to hubby (Ahhhhemmm, hint hint). He rolled his eyes. Like most guys, he would have to be dragged kicking and screaming to the theatre to see that chick show.
He will never understand why Dirty Dancing is one of my favourite movies of all time. He can't understand because he isn't a woman.
I immediately called up ES who I saw Dirty Dancing with in the movie theatre more than 20 years ago (Yikes, has it really been that long???). Unfortunately I only got her answering machine. If you're reading this, call me! After the movie we imitated Baby practicing her dance moves on the steps of the movie theatre while we waited for her dad to come pick us up.
And who can forget the soundtrack? I never did get sick of it. Not even after listening to it 2 million times in a row!
I'm so psyched about this, I'm already planning my trip to Toronto in my head. Girl trip!!
He will never understand why Dirty Dancing is one of my favourite movies of all time. He can't understand because he isn't a woman.
I immediately called up ES who I saw Dirty Dancing with in the movie theatre more than 20 years ago (Yikes, has it really been that long???). Unfortunately I only got her answering machine. If you're reading this, call me! After the movie we imitated Baby practicing her dance moves on the steps of the movie theatre while we waited for her dad to come pick us up.
And who can forget the soundtrack? I never did get sick of it. Not even after listening to it 2 million times in a row!
I'm so psyched about this, I'm already planning my trip to Toronto in my head. Girl trip!!
Friday, February 08, 2008
Through a baby's eyes
I wish I could see the world through my son's eyes. That way:
- doing chores would become a game, rather than a burden;
- I could fart out loud, no matter what the company, without feeling embarrassed or ashamed;
- I would never get annoyed by the loud sirens and horns as firetrucks blazed past our house at all hours of the day or night. Instead firetrucks would give me great joy and I would never once think about what horrible disaster they might be heading towards;
- I'd approach all of my day's activities with a newfound excitement. Oh how wonderful, the fourth round edits to the speech are back! I'll hop right on those!;
- Without a moment's hesitation, I'd splash in the puddles and soak myself from head to toe;
- It would take me 10 times as long to walk anywhere, because I would be distracted by all of the little things that we take for granted. The grass and the weeds, the sticks and leaves;
- I would be a much better hockey fan;
- I could invent new words;
- it would always be about me and what I want, rather than everybody else;
- I'd never have to walk more than a few feet to find something fun to do;
- winter wouldn't drag me down;
- and the world would be full of so many more possibilities!
I love the world that my son sees. I'm so glad he's sharing it with me.
- doing chores would become a game, rather than a burden;
- I could fart out loud, no matter what the company, without feeling embarrassed or ashamed;
- I would never get annoyed by the loud sirens and horns as firetrucks blazed past our house at all hours of the day or night. Instead firetrucks would give me great joy and I would never once think about what horrible disaster they might be heading towards;
- I'd approach all of my day's activities with a newfound excitement. Oh how wonderful, the fourth round edits to the speech are back! I'll hop right on those!;
- Without a moment's hesitation, I'd splash in the puddles and soak myself from head to toe;
- It would take me 10 times as long to walk anywhere, because I would be distracted by all of the little things that we take for granted. The grass and the weeds, the sticks and leaves;
- I would be a much better hockey fan;
- I could invent new words;
- it would always be about me and what I want, rather than everybody else;
- I'd never have to walk more than a few feet to find something fun to do;
- winter wouldn't drag me down;
- and the world would be full of so many more possibilities!
I love the world that my son sees. I'm so glad he's sharing it with me.
Thursday, February 07, 2008
The dead of winter
One of my colleagues is in labour and giving a play by play on her blog This is way better than reality television!
If only I had something that interesting to blog about today. I'm kind of in a rut. A rut that I completely blame on this long, miserable winter. Nothing is as fun in the winter. After work, instead of going to the park to play and socialize with friends, we head straight for home. Every night feels like a repeat of the night before.
I am so sick of bulky jackets, layers of clothing, and big clunky boots. Picking baby boy up from daycare takes an eternity in the winter with all of the bundling up that goes on! Oh how I miss wearing t-shirts and sandals.
Meals suck in the winter too. The fruit is never as fresh and succulent. The BBQ is buried in a foot of snow. It's an endless rotation of the same meals over and over again. No more eggs, pasta and quesadillas please! I can't wait until we can eat all of our meals outside again -- on the patio or at the park.
I try to embrace winter, I truly do. And if it were half the length, I'd probably love it. But it's too long and the days are too short.
Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to check Dani's blog again to see if there is any baby news and then curl up in front of the fire and read my book.
If only I had something that interesting to blog about today. I'm kind of in a rut. A rut that I completely blame on this long, miserable winter. Nothing is as fun in the winter. After work, instead of going to the park to play and socialize with friends, we head straight for home. Every night feels like a repeat of the night before.
I am so sick of bulky jackets, layers of clothing, and big clunky boots. Picking baby boy up from daycare takes an eternity in the winter with all of the bundling up that goes on! Oh how I miss wearing t-shirts and sandals.
Meals suck in the winter too. The fruit is never as fresh and succulent. The BBQ is buried in a foot of snow. It's an endless rotation of the same meals over and over again. No more eggs, pasta and quesadillas please! I can't wait until we can eat all of our meals outside again -- on the patio or at the park.
I try to embrace winter, I truly do. And if it were half the length, I'd probably love it. But it's too long and the days are too short.
Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to check Dani's blog again to see if there is any baby news and then curl up in front of the fire and read my book.
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
Texas here we come!
In a couple of weeks we'll be leaving for San Antonio for my cousin's wedding. He's getting married underwater at Sea World, and making history at the same time. This will be the first ever scuba diving wedding at that Sea World. Pretty crazy, huh? Hubby is in the wedding party. And for those who are wondering: No he doesn't have to tread water during the ceremony. His duties will all be on dry land.
Although San Antonio wasn't our ideal winter vacation destination, I think it will be fun. We'll get a break from this cold weather, and have a chance to catch up with some close friends and relatives.
The thing I'm looking forward to most is seeing the look on baby boy's face when he sees a live whale up close. He loves watching videos of whales on You Tube, and constantly asks me, "What does whale poop look like, Mommy?" Now is his chance to find out once and for all.
The last time I was in San Antonio, I was 5 months pregnant. It was July and it was stinking hot. So hot you could have fried eggs on the pavement. We spent the vast majority of our time in air conditioned comfort. Except of course for the day we drove to Corpus Christie to go for a swim in the ocean. In the car, I was so excited about the prospect of lounging in the cool water. Boy was I disappointed! The water was almost as hot as the air -- like a hot tub. And there was not a tree or a patch of shade to be found. I spent most of the afternoon sitting in a 2 foot square patch of homemade shade by propping a tarp between two cars. Baby boy didn't kick once that day, and by evening I was sick with worry. I aked him to give mommy a kick to tell her everything was okay. On cue, he gave me a big hoof in the gut.
Texas in winter is much more my style. I'm looking forward to seeing the Alamo in comfort, and to pleasant walks along the river walk. But most of all, I'm looking forward to the margaritas!
Although San Antonio wasn't our ideal winter vacation destination, I think it will be fun. We'll get a break from this cold weather, and have a chance to catch up with some close friends and relatives.
The thing I'm looking forward to most is seeing the look on baby boy's face when he sees a live whale up close. He loves watching videos of whales on You Tube, and constantly asks me, "What does whale poop look like, Mommy?" Now is his chance to find out once and for all.
The last time I was in San Antonio, I was 5 months pregnant. It was July and it was stinking hot. So hot you could have fried eggs on the pavement. We spent the vast majority of our time in air conditioned comfort. Except of course for the day we drove to Corpus Christie to go for a swim in the ocean. In the car, I was so excited about the prospect of lounging in the cool water. Boy was I disappointed! The water was almost as hot as the air -- like a hot tub. And there was not a tree or a patch of shade to be found. I spent most of the afternoon sitting in a 2 foot square patch of homemade shade by propping a tarp between two cars. Baby boy didn't kick once that day, and by evening I was sick with worry. I aked him to give mommy a kick to tell her everything was okay. On cue, he gave me a big hoof in the gut.
Texas in winter is much more my style. I'm looking forward to seeing the Alamo in comfort, and to pleasant walks along the river walk. But most of all, I'm looking forward to the margaritas!
Monday, February 04, 2008
Straight from the horse's mouth
* "What's that in your nose, Daddy? Is that pooh pooh in-yare (in there)?"
* "We lost it!" (referring to the shadow that mysteriously vanished from the wall)
* "I want boots off. I want skating!" He yelled this for 20 minutes straight when we took him down to the canal to watch the skaters and the hockey players. Instead of enjoying the scene he was mad. Really really mad. To make matters worse, Daddy put on his skates. The injustice of it all!
This story does have a happy ending, however. We bought him some strap on toddler blades that we can attach to his boots. Now if only the weather would cool off so we can try them out.
* "Puddinyare" (put it in there)
* "Nissum" (this one)
* "Silly Daddy!"
* "Gotta get the wooses (worms) and the bees out" (that's what he says when we wipe his nose)
* "Mommy do that." Whenever he wants me to take something out of his hands, he says this. Usually its something gross that I don't actually want to touch. The other day, while I was half asleep in bed, he crawled up beside me and said excitedly, "Look what I found, mommy!" I put out my hand and he passed me a disgusting piece of crud he found somewhere. He was so proud of himself!
* "What kind is this?," "what kind is that?," or "what kind is that, that noise sounding?" When he handed me that crud the other day, he asked me "what kind is this?" I told him it was crud. So he went over to daddy, who was also half asleep and announced, "I found crud, Daddy!"
* "I want bowl of oranges, Mommy" has recently changed to "I want bowl of chocolate, Mommy."
* "Tigger says yuck!!! I don't want that!" And when baby boy doesn't want something he quotes his hero.
* What does Daddy say? "Raaaarrrrr!!!!" What does Mommy say? "Squeak squeak." Just once I'd like to get to be something more significant than a rodent!
* "Sam says diggidy diggidy diggidy" Luckily it doesn't come out sounding like Quagmire from Family Guy.
* "I don't feel well, Mommy. I have a stomach egg." There have been a lot of illnesses flying around his daycare lately. So far he's dodged the stomach flu (knock on wood). He does however have a really nasty cold. I keep on asking him how he's feeling, and he loves the attention. He makes himself look extra cute and pathetic and says, "I don't feel well, Mommy. I want Shreddies." I guess he believes in the old adage about feeding a cold...
* "We lost it!" (referring to the shadow that mysteriously vanished from the wall)
* "I want boots off. I want skating!" He yelled this for 20 minutes straight when we took him down to the canal to watch the skaters and the hockey players. Instead of enjoying the scene he was mad. Really really mad. To make matters worse, Daddy put on his skates. The injustice of it all!
This story does have a happy ending, however. We bought him some strap on toddler blades that we can attach to his boots. Now if only the weather would cool off so we can try them out.
* "Puddinyare" (put it in there)
* "Nissum" (this one)
* "Silly Daddy!"
* "Gotta get the wooses (worms) and the bees out" (that's what he says when we wipe his nose)
* "Mommy do that." Whenever he wants me to take something out of his hands, he says this. Usually its something gross that I don't actually want to touch. The other day, while I was half asleep in bed, he crawled up beside me and said excitedly, "Look what I found, mommy!" I put out my hand and he passed me a disgusting piece of crud he found somewhere. He was so proud of himself!
* "What kind is this?," "what kind is that?," or "what kind is that, that noise sounding?" When he handed me that crud the other day, he asked me "what kind is this?" I told him it was crud. So he went over to daddy, who was also half asleep and announced, "I found crud, Daddy!"
* "I want bowl of oranges, Mommy" has recently changed to "I want bowl of chocolate, Mommy."
* "Tigger says yuck!!! I don't want that!" And when baby boy doesn't want something he quotes his hero.
* What does Daddy say? "Raaaarrrrr!!!!" What does Mommy say? "Squeak squeak." Just once I'd like to get to be something more significant than a rodent!
* "Sam says diggidy diggidy diggidy" Luckily it doesn't come out sounding like Quagmire from Family Guy.
* "I don't feel well, Mommy. I have a stomach egg." There have been a lot of illnesses flying around his daycare lately. So far he's dodged the stomach flu (knock on wood). He does however have a really nasty cold. I keep on asking him how he's feeling, and he loves the attention. He makes himself look extra cute and pathetic and says, "I don't feel well, Mommy. I want Shreddies." I guess he believes in the old adage about feeding a cold...
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Time for a tune-up
I've developed some really bad habits over the last year or so. Perhaps the worst of which has been not following a regular exercise program. I'm now announcing publicly that those days are over. I joined a gym and have committed to going 4 times a week over my lunch hour. So far so good. I give all of my readers to kick my butt if I don't stick with the program.
Here are some other ways I'm going to tune myself up:
- Tomorrow, I'm cutting my hair. It's not going to be the usual trim. I'm getting myself a new look. Something sexy!
- On Monday, I'm going for some much needed career counseling.
- I'm going to try to turn in my Blackberry (wish me luck with this one!)
- A lot of my stress comes from taking too much onto my own shoulders. So, I'm going to start delegating a lot more.
- I am going to treat myself to a facial.
- I'm giving up caffeine. The process has begun. Just give me a few more days and I'll have made the full switch to decaf.
- I'm putting my sweet tooth in check. No more desserts at every meal.
- When I do eat dessert, I'm going to go all out and enjoy every last bite.
- I'm going to cut back my spending. No more clothes that I don't really need. No more expensive coffee drinks. No more eating out so much.
- Guilt sucks. So I'm not going to let others (i.e. certain family members) make me feel guilt anymore.
- I'm going to go out on more dates with hubby. When is the last time we went to the movies together? Neither of us remembers.
- I'm going to convert this house into an oasis. First step: I'm going to "declutter" this house because we've got way too much crap. Maybe I'll even hire a Feng Shui consultant.
Wish me luck with this ambitious list.
Here are some other ways I'm going to tune myself up:
- Tomorrow, I'm cutting my hair. It's not going to be the usual trim. I'm getting myself a new look. Something sexy!
- On Monday, I'm going for some much needed career counseling.
- I'm going to try to turn in my Blackberry (wish me luck with this one!)
- A lot of my stress comes from taking too much onto my own shoulders. So, I'm going to start delegating a lot more.
- I am going to treat myself to a facial.
- I'm giving up caffeine. The process has begun. Just give me a few more days and I'll have made the full switch to decaf.
- I'm putting my sweet tooth in check. No more desserts at every meal.
- When I do eat dessert, I'm going to go all out and enjoy every last bite.
- I'm going to cut back my spending. No more clothes that I don't really need. No more expensive coffee drinks. No more eating out so much.
- Guilt sucks. So I'm not going to let others (i.e. certain family members) make me feel guilt anymore.
- I'm going to go out on more dates with hubby. When is the last time we went to the movies together? Neither of us remembers.
- I'm going to convert this house into an oasis. First step: I'm going to "declutter" this house because we've got way too much crap. Maybe I'll even hire a Feng Shui consultant.
Wish me luck with this ambitious list.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
I mine!
When baby boy overheard me telling hubby that he (baby boy) was my priority, he echoed my sentiments. "I mine!" he shouted, pointing at himself. I guess I know exactly where his priorities lie :)
********************
The first time he said it I just about fell off of my chair.
"Mommy," he said. "I want a baby."
I wasn't sure what to say, so I asked him if he wanted a real baby or a pretend toy baby. Without hesitating he replied "A real baby."
As it turned out, he had had the same conversation with Daddy. Only Daddy asked him if he wanted a baby brother or sister. The little guy pondered the question, but didn't reply.
Since then, he desire for a baby has become one of his favourite topics. And he's obviously given it some thought. He now says, "I want a baby. A sister kind."
No pressure or anything!!!!
************************
The icemaker, the garage door lifting, the aquarium filter, the fire engine sirens in the distance....if he hears a noise, he needs to know about it.
Any time there is a noise he pauses. His ears perk up like a German Shephard's, and he asks, "What kind is that, that sounding?"
**************************
Our hockey obsessed son has taken to wearing a basket on his head like a hockey helmet. And, to complete his uniform, he carefully balances his feet on a narrow foam block. He says, "I skating, Mommy."
Just as he has a preference for drinking milk that comes out of a red carton, he favours teams dressed in red jerseys. "I want play RED hockey, Mommy," he says.
Now that he's finally learned from all of the penalties we've given him for high sticking (i.e. hockey stick confiscation), it's "game on" all the time in our household!
********************
The first time he said it I just about fell off of my chair.
"Mommy," he said. "I want a baby."
I wasn't sure what to say, so I asked him if he wanted a real baby or a pretend toy baby. Without hesitating he replied "A real baby."
As it turned out, he had had the same conversation with Daddy. Only Daddy asked him if he wanted a baby brother or sister. The little guy pondered the question, but didn't reply.
Since then, he desire for a baby has become one of his favourite topics. And he's obviously given it some thought. He now says, "I want a baby. A sister kind."
No pressure or anything!!!!
************************
The icemaker, the garage door lifting, the aquarium filter, the fire engine sirens in the distance....if he hears a noise, he needs to know about it.
Any time there is a noise he pauses. His ears perk up like a German Shephard's, and he asks, "What kind is that, that sounding?"
**************************
Our hockey obsessed son has taken to wearing a basket on his head like a hockey helmet. And, to complete his uniform, he carefully balances his feet on a narrow foam block. He says, "I skating, Mommy."
Just as he has a preference for drinking milk that comes out of a red carton, he favours teams dressed in red jerseys. "I want play RED hockey, Mommy," he says.
Now that he's finally learned from all of the penalties we've given him for high sticking (i.e. hockey stick confiscation), it's "game on" all the time in our household!
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Get me a passport out of this mess!
Twice we've tried to get the little guy's passport photo taken, and twice we've failed. He's terrified of the big camera and of the strangers who try to get him to sit still and pose.
Here is how the scene has unfolded both times: We sit him down on the stool. He cries, looks away from the camera, and begs us to pick him up. We attempt several times to sooth him and get him in the right frame of mind. When it's obvious this isn't going to work we take a break. We hang out and try to acclimatize him to the store. We butter him up. Tell him it will be fun to get his picture taken. We watch other people sit on the stool and get their pictures taken. We talk to the nice strangers operating the camera. And then we try again, and again and again until we admit defeat and go home.
I know that getting him to sit still and look at the camera is only half the battle. There is also the issue of making sure he keeps his mouth closed. The rule for passport photos is that you must have your mouth closed. Even babies and toddlers. That's so crazy! The automatic reaction of every kid in that age group is to gawk, wide mouthed at the camera.
I'd really like to know why it's essential that the "closed mouth" rule apply to young children. Do they experience a lot of problems with reckless toddlers trying to smuggle apple juice across the border? Does an open mouth mask a baby's true identity? It's so utterly stupid.
Wish me luck with attempt #3. I'm going to need it!
Here is how the scene has unfolded both times: We sit him down on the stool. He cries, looks away from the camera, and begs us to pick him up. We attempt several times to sooth him and get him in the right frame of mind. When it's obvious this isn't going to work we take a break. We hang out and try to acclimatize him to the store. We butter him up. Tell him it will be fun to get his picture taken. We watch other people sit on the stool and get their pictures taken. We talk to the nice strangers operating the camera. And then we try again, and again and again until we admit defeat and go home.
I know that getting him to sit still and look at the camera is only half the battle. There is also the issue of making sure he keeps his mouth closed. The rule for passport photos is that you must have your mouth closed. Even babies and toddlers. That's so crazy! The automatic reaction of every kid in that age group is to gawk, wide mouthed at the camera.
I'd really like to know why it's essential that the "closed mouth" rule apply to young children. Do they experience a lot of problems with reckless toddlers trying to smuggle apple juice across the border? Does an open mouth mask a baby's true identity? It's so utterly stupid.
Wish me luck with attempt #3. I'm going to need it!
Early spring cleaning
I can't believe how many toys we've accumulated in the last few months between the little guy's birthday and Christmas. It's actually obscene. At the best of times it was hard to keep our tiny place clutter free. Now I've pretty much given up trying. Of course the toys aren't the only problem. We have loads and loads of stuff in the house that we really don't need.
So here's my strategy:
- Loan out, sell, or donate all of the baby stuff (except a few keepsakes)
- Rotate the toys we have so they aren't all out at the same time
- Go through my closet and hubby's closet and get rid of clothes that haven't been worn in over a year
- Take all of my books (except the most precious ones) and donate them to the public library;
- Get rid of stuff that we never use, room by room
- Shred my boxes and boxes full of old documents
- Once all of the above have been done, I'd like to get a storage locker for all of the stuff we just don't have space for i.e. camping gear, ski equipment, luggage, etc... It can live there until we buy a new house with a basement and garage.
It's a daunting task, but if we do this little by little I think our quality of life can only get better.
So here's my strategy:
- Loan out, sell, or donate all of the baby stuff (except a few keepsakes)
- Rotate the toys we have so they aren't all out at the same time
- Go through my closet and hubby's closet and get rid of clothes that haven't been worn in over a year
- Take all of my books (except the most precious ones) and donate them to the public library;
- Get rid of stuff that we never use, room by room
- Shred my boxes and boxes full of old documents
- Once all of the above have been done, I'd like to get a storage locker for all of the stuff we just don't have space for i.e. camping gear, ski equipment, luggage, etc... It can live there until we buy a new house with a basement and garage.
It's a daunting task, but if we do this little by little I think our quality of life can only get better.
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Toilet training trials and tribulations
When my son was 18-months old, the doctor told me to set up a potty and start the toilet training process. Baby boy is now almost 26 months old and has successfully used the potty six times - five pees and one pooh. The pooh success was a total fluke. I was changing his diaper right as he was starting to do his business, so I grabbed him and plopped him on the potty right as he let go.
There are days where he's very open to sitting on the potty. Sometimes he'll even initiate the activity. But usually his motivations have nothing to do with actually using the potty, but rather as a means of getting me or daddy to read him a book. Among his bathroom literature are books like "You can go to the Potty," or "The Potty Book," titles that he enjoys immensely!
These books are definitely helping him to understand the mechanics of potting training. I firmly believe that if there was a Potty Training 101 course he'd ace it. But knowing the mechanics, and actually putting them into practice are two completely separate things.....
All of the parenting books and web sites talk about looking for signs of toilet training readiness. The signs are all there but for some reason after every success we go through long periods of failure. I guess we should just chalk it up to "he's not ready."
But still there are very encouraging signs, like waking up in the morning with a dry diaper. Religiously each morning we encourage him to start his day by sitting on the potty. Occasionally he'll go along with the idea. But more often than not, he'll say "no potty."
I think one of the issues is that disposable diapers are designed too well these days. He never feels wet and uncomfortable. Perhaps it's time to switch to cloth? Or maybe we should try pull ups? It's worth a try. My mother-in-law even suggested having him wear underwear underneath his diaper so that he notices when he's gone.
Everyone I talk to has a different idea. Some say bribe him with candy. Others say let him run around naked and try to catch him in the act. And, of course, there are those who say, "don't worry, he'll toilet train when he's ready."
I guess we'll just have to experiment and see what works! If you have any words of wisdom, feel free to share them on my blog.
There are days where he's very open to sitting on the potty. Sometimes he'll even initiate the activity. But usually his motivations have nothing to do with actually using the potty, but rather as a means of getting me or daddy to read him a book. Among his bathroom literature are books like "You can go to the Potty," or "The Potty Book," titles that he enjoys immensely!
These books are definitely helping him to understand the mechanics of potting training. I firmly believe that if there was a Potty Training 101 course he'd ace it. But knowing the mechanics, and actually putting them into practice are two completely separate things.....
All of the parenting books and web sites talk about looking for signs of toilet training readiness. The signs are all there but for some reason after every success we go through long periods of failure. I guess we should just chalk it up to "he's not ready."
But still there are very encouraging signs, like waking up in the morning with a dry diaper. Religiously each morning we encourage him to start his day by sitting on the potty. Occasionally he'll go along with the idea. But more often than not, he'll say "no potty."
I think one of the issues is that disposable diapers are designed too well these days. He never feels wet and uncomfortable. Perhaps it's time to switch to cloth? Or maybe we should try pull ups? It's worth a try. My mother-in-law even suggested having him wear underwear underneath his diaper so that he notices when he's gone.
Everyone I talk to has a different idea. Some say bribe him with candy. Others say let him run around naked and try to catch him in the act. And, of course, there are those who say, "don't worry, he'll toilet train when he's ready."
I guess we'll just have to experiment and see what works! If you have any words of wisdom, feel free to share them on my blog.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
I'd like to thank the academy
The little guy is like an Academy Award recipient. Lately, there is no end to his thank yous. Daddy brought him home a big, red firetruck a couple of weeks ago. Every day since, he's repeated several times a day, "Thank you for the firetruck, Daddy."
When we went for sushi last week, he waved at the lady behind the counter and said, "Thanks for your help with sushi." Afterwards, we went to the fruit market and he told the owner "Thanks for help with the apples."
****************************
Hubby was using the coffee table as a foot rest today. Instead of asking him to move his legs out of the way, baby boy said, "Are those your socks?"
When Daddy acknowledged that yes they were in fact his socks, he said "Can you move your socks and pants?"
*****************************
I think I've mentioned before that baby boy requests different colours of milk. Whole milk is "red milk" because of its red carton. Purple milk is 1% etc... Over the holidays, he kept demanding "brown milk." You guessed it -- egg nog! He would have chugged it by the gallon if we had let him.
****************************
The little guy is deathly afraid of icicles. "No, no icicles!!!" he yells when he sees them out the window. Frankly, I find them frightening too. They sometimes hang down like menacing fanged teeth. But besides that, they sound like thunder when the fall from the roof. Just the other day, during a warm spell, a huge ice chunk made a 3 foot hole in our fence! For obvious reasons, the yard is out of bounds as a play areas during the winter.
The other day I was telling baby boy about how careful we have to be around icicles. I asked him what he should do if he saw an icicle, hoping he would say, "don't go near it." Instead he said, "I stomp, stomp, stomp it," and dramatically stomped around the room pounding his foot on the floor. For someone who is afraid of them, he sure was acting like a tough guy.
When we went for sushi last week, he waved at the lady behind the counter and said, "Thanks for your help with sushi." Afterwards, we went to the fruit market and he told the owner "Thanks for help with the apples."
****************************
Hubby was using the coffee table as a foot rest today. Instead of asking him to move his legs out of the way, baby boy said, "Are those your socks?"
When Daddy acknowledged that yes they were in fact his socks, he said "Can you move your socks and pants?"
*****************************
I think I've mentioned before that baby boy requests different colours of milk. Whole milk is "red milk" because of its red carton. Purple milk is 1% etc... Over the holidays, he kept demanding "brown milk." You guessed it -- egg nog! He would have chugged it by the gallon if we had let him.
****************************
The little guy is deathly afraid of icicles. "No, no icicles!!!" he yells when he sees them out the window. Frankly, I find them frightening too. They sometimes hang down like menacing fanged teeth. But besides that, they sound like thunder when the fall from the roof. Just the other day, during a warm spell, a huge ice chunk made a 3 foot hole in our fence! For obvious reasons, the yard is out of bounds as a play areas during the winter.
The other day I was telling baby boy about how careful we have to be around icicles. I asked him what he should do if he saw an icicle, hoping he would say, "don't go near it." Instead he said, "I stomp, stomp, stomp it," and dramatically stomped around the room pounding his foot on the floor. For someone who is afraid of them, he sure was acting like a tough guy.
Saturday, January 05, 2008
Spoken like a true toddler
I've been using this blog to document the little guy's language development. In the last few weeks he's started adding new elements to his speech. For instance, he now identifies who he's talking to:
"I want an orange, Mommy"
"Thank you for big fire truck, Daddy"
He now likes to make comparisons. For example, the other day told us he was swimming on the bed. To clarify, he said, "Pretend swimming. Not real." And when he saw the scary totem poles and masks at the museum, he was comforted when he was told that they weren't real.
His other favourite comparison is fresh vs. dirty. "Fresh diaper!" he yells while we're changing him. At night he picks up his water bottle and says, "Water dirty, mommy. I want fresh water."
But I think that perhaps the most amazing development is how he now links his sentences to express more complex ideas. A good example of this was on New Year's eve. We were at a party, and he didn't want to leave because he was having too good of a time. As a stalling tactic he said, "Daddy, can you tell the people on the couch to move? I'll sleep on the couch."
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Baby boy went back to daycare this week. When the caregiver asked him what he had done on his holidays he replied excitedly, "I bought groceries!"
Apparently grocery shopping was much more noteworthy than going to the farm; the children's museum, the art gallery, seeing a waterfall, visiting the horse stables, tobogganing, playing at the park, eating sushi, buying and x-mas tree and decorating it, making pasta, baking pretzels, opening a billion toys on x-mas morning etc....
********************************
At the art gallery there is a sculpture of a gigantic newborn baby. It looks real, save for its elephant-like proportions. Baby boy stopped in his tracks when he saw it. When he realized it was "pretend not real" he bravely went in for a closer look. He didn't say anything for a while. But after inspecting the umbilical cord, he pronounced very loudly so that his voice could echo throughout the gallery, "Look mommy. Giant baby has penis!" When I explained to him that it was an umbilical cord he said, "Baby penis bilical cord."
:-)
"I want an orange, Mommy"
"Thank you for big fire truck, Daddy"
He now likes to make comparisons. For example, the other day told us he was swimming on the bed. To clarify, he said, "Pretend swimming. Not real." And when he saw the scary totem poles and masks at the museum, he was comforted when he was told that they weren't real.
His other favourite comparison is fresh vs. dirty. "Fresh diaper!" he yells while we're changing him. At night he picks up his water bottle and says, "Water dirty, mommy. I want fresh water."
But I think that perhaps the most amazing development is how he now links his sentences to express more complex ideas. A good example of this was on New Year's eve. We were at a party, and he didn't want to leave because he was having too good of a time. As a stalling tactic he said, "Daddy, can you tell the people on the couch to move? I'll sleep on the couch."
*******************************
Baby boy went back to daycare this week. When the caregiver asked him what he had done on his holidays he replied excitedly, "I bought groceries!"
Apparently grocery shopping was much more noteworthy than going to the farm; the children's museum, the art gallery, seeing a waterfall, visiting the horse stables, tobogganing, playing at the park, eating sushi, buying and x-mas tree and decorating it, making pasta, baking pretzels, opening a billion toys on x-mas morning etc....
********************************
At the art gallery there is a sculpture of a gigantic newborn baby. It looks real, save for its elephant-like proportions. Baby boy stopped in his tracks when he saw it. When he realized it was "pretend not real" he bravely went in for a closer look. He didn't say anything for a while. But after inspecting the umbilical cord, he pronounced very loudly so that his voice could echo throughout the gallery, "Look mommy. Giant baby has penis!" When I explained to him that it was an umbilical cord he said, "Baby penis bilical cord."
:-)
Monday, December 31, 2007
The joys of Christmas
Somewhere along the way, the little guy has developed a concept of Santa. Where it came from, I'm not sure. But I guess I'm not too surprised with all of the hype that surrounds us at this time of year.
We have a cardboard book that is shaped like a Christmas tree. In it there is a picture of Santa loading up his sleigh with presents for all of the good boys and girls. But baby boy doesn't call it a sleigh -- rather it's Santa "rue-doo-doo" (his word for stroller from when he was really little. It is one of those nonsense words that has stuck).
After reading that book about a billion times, he seemed very interested in the whole gift opening part (again, not surprised. His birthday wasn't that long ago).
On Christmas eve, we put all of the presents under the tree. When he got up on Christmas morning we told him that Santa had come. When he came downstairs and saw all of the gifts, he couldn't contain his excitement. He grabbed a present and ran and put it on the coffee table. Then he ran back and grabbed another and put it on the coffee table. Back and forth he went with sheer delight.
Then he started opening them. All of them. Even the ones for Mommy and Daddy and Amma. None of us minded because he was having so much fun. And besides he was just "helping."
Later in the morning we went to the stables to visit the horses, and then to the park for a play. It was a beautiful sunny day -- just a perfect Christmas Day. And even more special than usual because Amma was there.
We have a cardboard book that is shaped like a Christmas tree. In it there is a picture of Santa loading up his sleigh with presents for all of the good boys and girls. But baby boy doesn't call it a sleigh -- rather it's Santa "rue-doo-doo" (his word for stroller from when he was really little. It is one of those nonsense words that has stuck).
After reading that book about a billion times, he seemed very interested in the whole gift opening part (again, not surprised. His birthday wasn't that long ago).
On Christmas eve, we put all of the presents under the tree. When he got up on Christmas morning we told him that Santa had come. When he came downstairs and saw all of the gifts, he couldn't contain his excitement. He grabbed a present and ran and put it on the coffee table. Then he ran back and grabbed another and put it on the coffee table. Back and forth he went with sheer delight.
Then he started opening them. All of them. Even the ones for Mommy and Daddy and Amma. None of us minded because he was having so much fun. And besides he was just "helping."
Later in the morning we went to the stables to visit the horses, and then to the park for a play. It was a beautiful sunny day -- just a perfect Christmas Day. And even more special than usual because Amma was there.
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Friday, December 21, 2007
The birds and the bees start early
The other day, Baby Boy came out and asked me a question that was obviously on his mind.
"Mommy have penis?"
I carefully crafted a response.
"No Mommy doesn't have a penis. Only boys have penises. Mommy is a girl. Girls have vaginas."
"Daddy has penis?" he then asked.
"Yes, daddy has a penis. He's a boy."
Since then, he keeps on broaching the topic with me. He's really trying to get his facts straight. Now, when he asks if I have a penis, I say "What do you think?" Usually (not always) he replies, "Mommy has gina."
At first I wondered if it was odd for a 2-year old to ask such a question. I soon discovered that this is a common theme for this age group. I think it coincides with all the potty training books that we've been reading. He's suddenly become very aware of certain body parts. I guess it was only a matter of time before he noticed that there were "mechanical differences" between the genders.
Tonight I was relaying this story to a friend over dinner in a restaurant. Bad idea! When the little guy caught on to what we were talking about he yelled quite loudly, "Mommy penis! Mommy has gina!" Then he started running through the restaurant yelling "penis!" and "gina!" Luckily her annunciation wasn't clear enough for the other diners to decipher. Or if they did, they quietly laughed behind their napkins. I'm sure my face was bright red!
Now that he's old enough to learn about these body parts, I wonder if he's old enough to know learn about when NOT to talk about them....
"Mommy have penis?"
I carefully crafted a response.
"No Mommy doesn't have a penis. Only boys have penises. Mommy is a girl. Girls have vaginas."
"Daddy has penis?" he then asked.
"Yes, daddy has a penis. He's a boy."
Since then, he keeps on broaching the topic with me. He's really trying to get his facts straight. Now, when he asks if I have a penis, I say "What do you think?" Usually (not always) he replies, "Mommy has gina."
At first I wondered if it was odd for a 2-year old to ask such a question. I soon discovered that this is a common theme for this age group. I think it coincides with all the potty training books that we've been reading. He's suddenly become very aware of certain body parts. I guess it was only a matter of time before he noticed that there were "mechanical differences" between the genders.
Tonight I was relaying this story to a friend over dinner in a restaurant. Bad idea! When the little guy caught on to what we were talking about he yelled quite loudly, "Mommy penis! Mommy has gina!" Then he started running through the restaurant yelling "penis!" and "gina!" Luckily her annunciation wasn't clear enough for the other diners to decipher. Or if they did, they quietly laughed behind their napkins. I'm sure my face was bright red!
Now that he's old enough to learn about these body parts, I wonder if he's old enough to know learn about when NOT to talk about them....
Monday, December 17, 2007
My rant as a concerned parent
He knows the names of all of the Thomas the Tank Engine characters, and talks about them like they are close, personal friends.
I receive frequent requests to watch DVDs or read books about Manna-the-pooh (whinnie-the-pooh).
He's been able to rattle off the songs from Dora the Explorer since very early on in his language development.
It's hard to believe that at the age of 2 (with extremely limited exposure to television) he's become so enamored with these popular childhood figures. It's actually kind of disturbing. The toy industry is already sucking us in. After a great deal of hesitation, I bought baby boy a wooden Thomas toy for Christmas. He plays with Thomas toys all the time at his caregiver's house and I know he'll be overjoyed when he opens his gift.
As soon as I got it home I checked the serial number to make sure it wasn't among the Thomas toys that were recently recalled due to high levels of lead in the paint. Even though it came up clean, I still feel a bit hesitant to give it to him. I feel the same way about toys made by Matel (speaking of massive recalls!) or any other toy company for that matter.
Can we really be confident that the toys we buy are safe? How can I be sure that our toy box isn't a toxic waste pile? It certainly contains a lot of plastic -- another thing that I'm not overly happy about these days. It's bad enough that many sippy cups and baby bottles contain bisphenol-A and who knows what other sorts of nastiness in them. Kids (and adults for that matter) live in a plastic universe. Just read this blog, if you are interested in knowing just how much plastic we are exposed to each and every day. Are we slowly poisoning our children (and ourselves) without even knowing it?
Then there are the child car seat recalls.
Medications full of dye.
Salt and sugar laden, pre-packaged food (crap) that advertisers try to make us feel good about feeding our families.
Products that are STILL on the shelves that should have been removed years ago (i.e. bumper pads and bathing rings). What company, in good conscience, still sells these items?
When I took prenatal classes, I was told to throw away any baby powder or baby oil found in the medicine cabinet. The oil is hazardous to ingest, and powder dangerous to inhale. Apparently the baby industry hasn't caught onto this yet, because these products are still lining store shelves. And there are a lot of parents out there who, like me, had no idea that any of these items were unsafe.
So you see why I'm holding my nose about putting a Thomas toy under the tree this year? Maybe it's not too late to get a refund....
I receive frequent requests to watch DVDs or read books about Manna-the-pooh (whinnie-the-pooh).
He's been able to rattle off the songs from Dora the Explorer since very early on in his language development.
It's hard to believe that at the age of 2 (with extremely limited exposure to television) he's become so enamored with these popular childhood figures. It's actually kind of disturbing. The toy industry is already sucking us in. After a great deal of hesitation, I bought baby boy a wooden Thomas toy for Christmas. He plays with Thomas toys all the time at his caregiver's house and I know he'll be overjoyed when he opens his gift.
As soon as I got it home I checked the serial number to make sure it wasn't among the Thomas toys that were recently recalled due to high levels of lead in the paint. Even though it came up clean, I still feel a bit hesitant to give it to him. I feel the same way about toys made by Matel (speaking of massive recalls!) or any other toy company for that matter.
Can we really be confident that the toys we buy are safe? How can I be sure that our toy box isn't a toxic waste pile? It certainly contains a lot of plastic -- another thing that I'm not overly happy about these days. It's bad enough that many sippy cups and baby bottles contain bisphenol-A and who knows what other sorts of nastiness in them. Kids (and adults for that matter) live in a plastic universe. Just read this blog, if you are interested in knowing just how much plastic we are exposed to each and every day. Are we slowly poisoning our children (and ourselves) without even knowing it?
Then there are the child car seat recalls.
Medications full of dye.
Salt and sugar laden, pre-packaged food (crap) that advertisers try to make us feel good about feeding our families.
Products that are STILL on the shelves that should have been removed years ago (i.e. bumper pads and bathing rings). What company, in good conscience, still sells these items?
When I took prenatal classes, I was told to throw away any baby powder or baby oil found in the medicine cabinet. The oil is hazardous to ingest, and powder dangerous to inhale. Apparently the baby industry hasn't caught onto this yet, because these products are still lining store shelves. And there are a lot of parents out there who, like me, had no idea that any of these items were unsafe.
So you see why I'm holding my nose about putting a Thomas toy under the tree this year? Maybe it's not too late to get a refund....
Friday, December 14, 2007
2 never looked so good!
On the big day!
The life of the party.
Aaaahhh! My cake is on fire!
Mmmm cake....Soooo doog!!
This cake has obviously gone to my head!
A helping hand.
OMG! Did you see this present? It's the BEST thing ever.
It's KSH's saw!!! How did he know that was what I wanted for my birthday?
Bonus!! My saw came with a matching drill!
Saturday, December 08, 2007
Here come the terrible 2s!
The terrible twos are officially here! Baby boy has figured out a couple of things about birthday.
1. Cake is soooo yummmy! (to quote)
2. Presents are good
He scored all sorts of loot this year, including a SAW just like KSH's (his eyes were as big as saucers when he opened it up), a guitar (for jamming with dad), a dump truck, and a toy sushi bento box. KM always teases me about having an "urban baby." When I told her about the sushi set she said, "Urban babies eat sushi." If you've ever seen the book "Urban Babies Wear Black" you'll understand why that's so funny :-)
KM and KSH hosted the big birthday brunch. Lots of good food, and good company!
On his actual birthday, we took him out for avocado rolls, noodle soup and a "bubble shake." Actually, it was a coconut shake, but he calls it a bubble shake because he once saw me drink bubble tea. He later described his bubble shake as "freezy and juicy" and sooooo yummy.
As you can see, he's off to a good year.
******************************
We have a pest problem. Little caterpillars. They must hatch out of one of our plants -- we have no clue where they are coming from. Every three or four weeks, I'll catch a few of them trekking across the house. Baby boy calls them "wooses," his word for worms.
I was getting breakfast ready last week and he came running into the kitchen yelling "look!!!!" He handed me something. I looked down and just about jumped out of my skin. It was a dead woose! He was so proud of himself. "I find a woose," he repeated over and over again.
********************************
I've created a monster. When I was a kid, I loved the movie/musical Annie. So I ordered the DVD, figuring it would be nice to have in our collection. Apparently my enthusiasm for Annie has rubbed off on the little guy.
He talks about Daddy Warbucks, Miss Hannigan and Sandy the dog all the time. He knows all of the songs by heart, and sings them with great enthusiasm. He requests to watch "Hard knock life song" 50 times a day. Or, he'll say, "I want to watch sad song." He's referring to the song Maybe, where the orphans daydream about their parents coming to pick them up at the orphanage. It really is a sad song.....
And, perhaps the most humourous side effect of his love of all things "Annie" -- the tap dancing. There is a scene in the movie where Annie and Miss Farrell are getting ready to go to the movies and they do a little tap dance. Baby boy does a great imitation. Just last week, when we were at his two year check up with the doctor, he did the dance across the examination room. It was especially funny because he was only wearing a diaper and a pair of slippers.
********************************
Now that the little guy has a guitar, he can jam with daddy.
They are so funny to watch! As daddy strums a tune on the guitar, they make up lyrics. The other day, I over heard baby boy singing a little refrain that went something like this:
"Scooby....Saw...Scooby and icicles fall."
**************************************
Here are some of our favourite little guy quotes:
"It's sooooo yummy!"
"Look! It's shoaning!" (snowing)
"I want ninin toast" (raisin toast)
"whatcha do-ning?"
"I can check" (he likes to check for firetrucks on the way home from daycare. He also likes to check to see if daddy's home from work.)
1. Cake is soooo yummmy! (to quote)
2. Presents are good
He scored all sorts of loot this year, including a SAW just like KSH's (his eyes were as big as saucers when he opened it up), a guitar (for jamming with dad), a dump truck, and a toy sushi bento box. KM always teases me about having an "urban baby." When I told her about the sushi set she said, "Urban babies eat sushi." If you've ever seen the book "Urban Babies Wear Black" you'll understand why that's so funny :-)
KM and KSH hosted the big birthday brunch. Lots of good food, and good company!
On his actual birthday, we took him out for avocado rolls, noodle soup and a "bubble shake." Actually, it was a coconut shake, but he calls it a bubble shake because he once saw me drink bubble tea. He later described his bubble shake as "freezy and juicy" and sooooo yummy.
As you can see, he's off to a good year.
******************************
We have a pest problem. Little caterpillars. They must hatch out of one of our plants -- we have no clue where they are coming from. Every three or four weeks, I'll catch a few of them trekking across the house. Baby boy calls them "wooses," his word for worms.
I was getting breakfast ready last week and he came running into the kitchen yelling "look!!!!" He handed me something. I looked down and just about jumped out of my skin. It was a dead woose! He was so proud of himself. "I find a woose," he repeated over and over again.
********************************
I've created a monster. When I was a kid, I loved the movie/musical Annie. So I ordered the DVD, figuring it would be nice to have in our collection. Apparently my enthusiasm for Annie has rubbed off on the little guy.
He talks about Daddy Warbucks, Miss Hannigan and Sandy the dog all the time. He knows all of the songs by heart, and sings them with great enthusiasm. He requests to watch "Hard knock life song" 50 times a day. Or, he'll say, "I want to watch sad song." He's referring to the song Maybe, where the orphans daydream about their parents coming to pick them up at the orphanage. It really is a sad song.....
And, perhaps the most humourous side effect of his love of all things "Annie" -- the tap dancing. There is a scene in the movie where Annie and Miss Farrell are getting ready to go to the movies and they do a little tap dance. Baby boy does a great imitation. Just last week, when we were at his two year check up with the doctor, he did the dance across the examination room. It was especially funny because he was only wearing a diaper and a pair of slippers.
********************************
Now that the little guy has a guitar, he can jam with daddy.
They are so funny to watch! As daddy strums a tune on the guitar, they make up lyrics. The other day, I over heard baby boy singing a little refrain that went something like this:
"Scooby....Saw...Scooby and icicles fall."
**************************************
Here are some of our favourite little guy quotes:
"It's sooooo yummy!"
"Look! It's shoaning!" (snowing)
"I want ninin toast" (raisin toast)
"whatcha do-ning?"
"I can check" (he likes to check for firetrucks on the way home from daycare. He also likes to check to see if daddy's home from work.)
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Catching up
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!
***************************
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!
**********************************
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!"
**********************************
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!
**********************************
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.
************************************
"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."
********************************************
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......
**********************************************
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
***********************************************
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 :-)
************************************************
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.
*******************************************
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!
***************************
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!
**********************************
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!"
**********************************
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!
**********************************
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.
************************************
"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."
********************************************
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......
**********************************************
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
***********************************************
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 :-)
************************************************
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.
*******************************************
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!
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):
*************************
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.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Happy Halloween!
Here is the little guy dressed in a "happi" coat. This is a traditional outfit that children in Japan wear to festivals.
Balloons are cool at the best of times, but spider balloons are ultra cool!
Should I draw, or play with this motorcycle? Ummm...I think I'll play with the motorcycle.
My buddy and I were just hanging out, when along came this really cute girl named Little Red Riding Hood.
1 happi coat + 1 parachute = 1 super happy kid!
Halloween night was loads of fun. We ordered pizza, hung out with some friends, handed out candy, went trick or treating, checked out all the pumpkins, saw Scooby...The fun didn't stop (or at least not until 7:30 when it was time to go home and get ready for bed)
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Mmmm Sushishis!
Baby boy loves going out for sushi or "sushishis" as he calls it. He's a big fan of the avocado rolls, edamame, and coconut milkshakes. And, oh yes, as you can see above, he likes going out for Chinese noodle soup too!
Monday, October 22, 2007
A new understanding
Hubby travels a lot for work. This weekend we dropped him off at the train station. Baby boy watched him unload his luggage from the car and accepted a good-bye hug and kiss. As we were pulling away from the station he said "See daddy?"
I explained to him that daddy had to take the train. He had to go on a trip for work. And, for the first time, I think he really understood what I was telling him. Although baby boy always talks about daddy when he's away, I don't think he's ever given any deep thought to where he's gone.
Now, we have long conversations on the subject that go something like this:
"See daddy later?"
"Daddy is on a trip. He'll be back in a couple of days."
"Daddy take the train?"
"That's right, daddy took the train. He had to go on a trip for work."
"Daddy on trip. He be home soon."
"Yes, daddy will be home in a couple of days."
He likes to repeat the conversation over and over again just to make sure he has all the facts straight.
Lately, he's also taken to asking questions. His two favourites are: what time is it? and what happened? He asks me those questions a thousand times a day. When he asks the time, I now have crafty answers such as "it's time to clean up your toys" or "it's time to start running because mommy is going to get you!"
Saturday, October 20, 2007
Our big sky adventure!
I finally got around to uploading some pictures from an adventure we had a few weekends ago. It was very much an unplanned adventure, which made it all the more exciting. On our way to a nursery near the outskirts of town with our friend SB, we happened to drive along a road on the perimeter of the airport. We noticed some cars parked along the fence, right next to the runway where the airplanes land. There were people standing around waiting for the planes to come in.
Later on, when we were driving back along that road, we decided to stop and watch too. After what seemed like forever, we saw a plane coming towards us. The tiny dot in the sky got bigger and bigger until finally.....Zooom.....it flew right over our heads. What an adrenaline rush! The plane seemed to narrowly miss touching our heads. The loud engine noise roared through our ears. The smell of jet fuel stung our noses. It was, quite simply, awesome!
This picture I took doesn't do it justice.
Then, within a few minutes, we watched two more planes land. We are definitely going back. But next time we're going to watch from inside the car to bring the noise level down a few decibels.
When we asked baby boy what he thought of the whole experience, he said "Airplanes too loud!"
But the sky adventure didn't end there. As we were driving home, we noticed a hot air balloon was about to launch from a field near the side of the road. So we pulled over to watch. Baby boy, who LOVES hot air balloons, was absolutely glued to the scene. We watched the balloon get bigger and bigger. And then, some people jumped into the basket right before it lifted off the ground.
I'm sure glad I had my camera with me!
Later on, when we were driving back along that road, we decided to stop and watch too. After what seemed like forever, we saw a plane coming towards us. The tiny dot in the sky got bigger and bigger until finally.....Zooom.....it flew right over our heads. What an adrenaline rush! The plane seemed to narrowly miss touching our heads. The loud engine noise roared through our ears. The smell of jet fuel stung our noses. It was, quite simply, awesome!
This picture I took doesn't do it justice.
Then, within a few minutes, we watched two more planes land. We are definitely going back. But next time we're going to watch from inside the car to bring the noise level down a few decibels.
When we asked baby boy what he thought of the whole experience, he said "Airplanes too loud!"
But the sky adventure didn't end there. As we were driving home, we noticed a hot air balloon was about to launch from a field near the side of the road. So we pulled over to watch. Baby boy, who LOVES hot air balloons, was absolutely glued to the scene. We watched the balloon get bigger and bigger. And then, some people jumped into the basket right before it lifted off the ground.
I'm sure glad I had my camera with me!
Friday, October 19, 2007
A la mushroom!
A couple of funny stories....
We were at the park yesterday and one of the other mom's started speaking to baby boy in French. Each time she introduced him to a new word or phrase, he'd try to repeat it back to her. On the whole, his pronunciation was pretty good. But it was pretty obvious that his ears were more attuned to the English language.
When we were about to leave the lady said "A la prochaine!" Baby boy replied, "A la mushroom!"
**************************
Another leaving the park story....His little friend Shauna (pronounced Show-na)came over and said good-bye to baby boy. He stood there without saying a word.
"Aren't you going to say good-bye to Shauna?" I asked.
"Bye Soda," he replied.
***************************
He's just like his dad. Plain water just won't do these days. When I ask him what he wants to drink he says "I want perrier." I can usually get him to settle for regular tap water with a lemon wedge.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Remember me?
I'm totally weirded out by the number of people who want to be my "friend" on Facebook who I don't even remember. Today I got a message from someone I supposedly went to high school with. It reads, "Wow. I remember you from high school. How are you?" I don't know if I should even bother replying. I honestly have no idea who this guy is. Do I have Alzheimer's or something?
I've always prided myself in my ability to remember people's names and faces. Could it be that I've just chosen to remember some people, and completely blocked out others.
Some of the friends I've acquired were only -- at best -- slight acquaintances back in high school. I only accepted them into my friend list to be polite. After all, maybe we really were friends at one time, but I've totally blocked that part of my life out. I've managed to almost completely block grade 8 from memory (worst year of my life by far!) so it's entirely possible. Either that or I was drunk.... Again, entirely possible.
Of course there do exist a lot of "friend sluts" who will befriend anyone who has ever passed by in their general direction. Maybe I'm just being approached by people who like to get around, if you know what I mean... Maybe I'm just another notch on the belt. I suppose I shouldn't be too critical. I've become more popular on Facebook than I ever have in real life!
I've always prided myself in my ability to remember people's names and faces. Could it be that I've just chosen to remember some people, and completely blocked out others.
Some of the friends I've acquired were only -- at best -- slight acquaintances back in high school. I only accepted them into my friend list to be polite. After all, maybe we really were friends at one time, but I've totally blocked that part of my life out. I've managed to almost completely block grade 8 from memory (worst year of my life by far!) so it's entirely possible. Either that or I was drunk.... Again, entirely possible.
Of course there do exist a lot of "friend sluts" who will befriend anyone who has ever passed by in their general direction. Maybe I'm just being approached by people who like to get around, if you know what I mean... Maybe I'm just another notch on the belt. I suppose I shouldn't be too critical. I've become more popular on Facebook than I ever have in real life!
Thursday, October 04, 2007
News flash!
See this handsome fella? He just did his first pooh pooh in the potty!
Mommy and Daddy are so proud. Boy are you going to kill us when you read this as a teenager.
Mommy and Daddy are so proud. Boy are you going to kill us when you read this as a teenager.
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Waterlogged
Imagine a kid actually wanting to wash his hands! That's every mother's dream. I actually have the opposite problem to most parents: how do I get him to stop washing his hands.
"Wash-a hands? Wash-a hands?" he says over and over again. But it's really all just a ploy to play in the sink. Once he's on the step stool with the water running, it's almost impossible to pull him away. Any time I try he yells, "No!!!! Wash-a hands! Wash-a hands!"
We do let him play in the sink for extended periods of time. It's a great way to clean the floors! That's where most of the water goes. And if you throw in a couple of dirty dishes for him, they come out sparkling clean. Just as he can't get enough of the water, he also can't get enough of the dish soap!
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There was a dead wasp on our windowsill one morning as he sat eating a piece of toast. Baby boy noticed it, and gave me a very concerned look.
"Fly?" he asked, pointing at it.
"No that's a wasp."
"He sleepy," he informed me.
"Yes," I replied.
"Give wasp toast?" he asked.
Later that day, he noticed that the wasp was still "sleeping" on the windowsill. "Wasp sleepy," he told me. "I give him more toast."
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Generosity abounds! Baby boy enjoys trying to "share" his castoff food with others. He's always wanting to give empty banana peels and grapes that he's dropped in the mud to his buddy at the park.
"Give grape Motsumi?" he asks. I have to tell him that it's very nice to want to share but Motsumi probably has his own bananas and grapes.
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At the dinner table hubby and I get demand after demand. "I want grapefruit," "More ott (milk)," "More mushrooms" and so on. He almost never wants to eat what's on the menu. One night, hubby was about to go into the kitchen to fill one of the demands.
"Don't bring him anything," I said. "He's just asking for the sake of asking. He just wants control. If we cave in all the time he's never going to eat what's in front of him."
Baby boy was listening.
"I want control!" he yelled. Was I right or what?
"Wash-a hands? Wash-a hands?" he says over and over again. But it's really all just a ploy to play in the sink. Once he's on the step stool with the water running, it's almost impossible to pull him away. Any time I try he yells, "No!!!! Wash-a hands! Wash-a hands!"
We do let him play in the sink for extended periods of time. It's a great way to clean the floors! That's where most of the water goes. And if you throw in a couple of dirty dishes for him, they come out sparkling clean. Just as he can't get enough of the water, he also can't get enough of the dish soap!
*********************************
There was a dead wasp on our windowsill one morning as he sat eating a piece of toast. Baby boy noticed it, and gave me a very concerned look.
"Fly?" he asked, pointing at it.
"No that's a wasp."
"He sleepy," he informed me.
"Yes," I replied.
"Give wasp toast?" he asked.
Later that day, he noticed that the wasp was still "sleeping" on the windowsill. "Wasp sleepy," he told me. "I give him more toast."
**********************************
Generosity abounds! Baby boy enjoys trying to "share" his castoff food with others. He's always wanting to give empty banana peels and grapes that he's dropped in the mud to his buddy at the park.
"Give grape Motsumi?" he asks. I have to tell him that it's very nice to want to share but Motsumi probably has his own bananas and grapes.
**********************************
At the dinner table hubby and I get demand after demand. "I want grapefruit," "More ott (milk)," "More mushrooms" and so on. He almost never wants to eat what's on the menu. One night, hubby was about to go into the kitchen to fill one of the demands.
"Don't bring him anything," I said. "He's just asking for the sake of asking. He just wants control. If we cave in all the time he's never going to eat what's in front of him."
Baby boy was listening.
"I want control!" he yelled. Was I right or what?
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
How was your day?
Normally when I ask the little guy how his day was, I might get him to reply with a few intermittent words. Here is how the conversation usually goes:
Me: Did you have a good day?
Baby boy: Ava.
Me: Did you get to play with Ava today?
Baby boy: Yah!
Me: What else did you do?
Baby boy: Ball
Me: Did you throw a ball in the back yard?
Baby Boy: Bus
Me: Did you play with a toy bus?
Baby boy: Yah!
Now he's starting to use full sentences. Not all the time, but often. Here are a couple of examples:
Daddy: Do you get to ride horses at playgroup?
Baby boy: Mmmm...No. Slide on the slide. Sing some songs.
Me: Let's go wash your hands
Baby boy: Wash my hands with soap.
Me: Can you say goodbye to your friends?
Baby boy: Bye-bye everyone. See you soon.
Daddy: It's time to get in the car.
Baby boy: I'll drive home.
Language development is so cool to watch!
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Am I just a big "ween"er?
I need sleep. The last week has been terrible. Up and down throughout the night responding to loud demands for milk (and I mean loud!).
What's changed? He was sleeping through the night and now he's back to this again -- getting up often and wanting to nurse. When he wants milk it means none of us sleep. Is this just a phase that will come and go like the rest of them?
Last night I tried to ween him off the nursing in the night routine. When he started yelling "Ott!" (his word for milk) I explained to him that mommy was sleeping and that when the radio came on in the morning he could have some ott. Given how groggy he was I thought he'd just roll over and fall back to sleep. Wrong!
He started howling "Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!" and clung to me like crazy glue. I tried other strategies to get him to fall asleep, knowing that that's the only reason he was asking to nurse. I dished out back rubs, sang songs, offered sips of water. "No, no, no!" was his reply. You see, breast milk is like Nytol -- it helps you get your ZZZZs. He figured that out on day 1, so my attempts to introduce new back to sleep techniques come across as quite lame. Exhausted and defeated, I caved in. Baby boy soon drifted off to sleep, but I tossed and turned with guilt. I've always been an advocate for nursing on demand (although he normally only chooses to nurse twice a day now, before bed and first thing in the morning).
Part of me feels like a terrible mom. The other part of me feels as though something has got to give. I can't live in a constant state of sleep deprivation plus work full time. Do any moms out there have some words of wisdom for me?
What's changed? He was sleeping through the night and now he's back to this again -- getting up often and wanting to nurse. When he wants milk it means none of us sleep. Is this just a phase that will come and go like the rest of them?
Last night I tried to ween him off the nursing in the night routine. When he started yelling "Ott!" (his word for milk) I explained to him that mommy was sleeping and that when the radio came on in the morning he could have some ott. Given how groggy he was I thought he'd just roll over and fall back to sleep. Wrong!
He started howling "Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!" and clung to me like crazy glue. I tried other strategies to get him to fall asleep, knowing that that's the only reason he was asking to nurse. I dished out back rubs, sang songs, offered sips of water. "No, no, no!" was his reply. You see, breast milk is like Nytol -- it helps you get your ZZZZs. He figured that out on day 1, so my attempts to introduce new back to sleep techniques come across as quite lame. Exhausted and defeated, I caved in. Baby boy soon drifted off to sleep, but I tossed and turned with guilt. I've always been an advocate for nursing on demand (although he normally only chooses to nurse twice a day now, before bed and first thing in the morning).
Part of me feels like a terrible mom. The other part of me feels as though something has got to give. I can't live in a constant state of sleep deprivation plus work full time. Do any moms out there have some words of wisdom for me?
Sunday, September 23, 2007
In general
Toddlers generalize virtually everything. Here is a list of the little guys top 10 generalizations:
1. Any letter that comes in the mail must be from Pinky Pig
2. Airplanes have one destination: Amma's house
3. All cats are named Nabi (similarly, all dogs are named Scooby)
4. All flowers (even the nastiest of weeds)are pretty
5. Everything adds up to the number 2
6. Any photograph that features a man holding a guitar must be Daddy
7. Caterpillars are all sad
8. Anything round is a ball and should, therefore, be thrown
9. All kids that are younger than him (even by a few days) are babies
10. If it's not water or milk, he calls it "wine"
If I put my mind to it, I could probably think of a million more. :)
1. Any letter that comes in the mail must be from Pinky Pig
2. Airplanes have one destination: Amma's house
3. All cats are named Nabi (similarly, all dogs are named Scooby)
4. All flowers (even the nastiest of weeds)are pretty
5. Everything adds up to the number 2
6. Any photograph that features a man holding a guitar must be Daddy
7. Caterpillars are all sad
8. Anything round is a ball and should, therefore, be thrown
9. All kids that are younger than him (even by a few days) are babies
10. If it's not water or milk, he calls it "wine"
If I put my mind to it, I could probably think of a million more. :)
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Last blast of summer
Getting into the "swing" of things
Wearing my super cool shades
Playing a little ball
Making a big splash at the park
Wearing my super cool shades
Playing a little ball
Making a big splash at the park
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Happy Daddy!
On Daddy's birthday I told baby boy to say "Happy birthday Daddy!" to which he replied, "Happy Daddy!"
Less than a week later, my birthday rolled around. Daddy told him to say "Happy birthday Mommy!"to which he replied "Happy Daddy!" once again.
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We were eating Chinese food last weekend, when the little guy came across a piece of baby corn, which he'd never seen before. Intrigued, he picked up a piece, and proceed to gingerly nibble his way along it like a piece of corn on the cob. We nearly died laughing!
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Topping the reading list this week are two caterpillar books - Caterpillar Hides Away and The Very Hungry Caterpillar. As a result, he's invented two new words. "Faterpillar" to describe the fattened up caterpillar that gorged himself for a week. And "caterberries" instead of strawberries.
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Today we were walking down the street and passed a pretty young lady. The little guy pointed at her and said, "Nice!"
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He's sworn off clothes. One rather frigid morning this past week, I said "Come on, we have to put your pants on." He completely rejected the idea and ran away shouting "No pants! No pants!" Later that same day he did the same thing with his shoes. "No shoes! No shoes!"
The only way he'll wear a shirt these days is if there is a "cool" picture on it of an animal or vehicle of some sort. Forget trying to dress him in a plain shirt -- it's just not going to happen.
Thursday, September 06, 2007
Sauce?
Sorry it has been so long. Life has been pretty busy lately. Here is the latest...
Baby boy likes to cook. He's got his toy wooden sauce set, miniature pots and pans, and an active imagination. Often, if I'm sitting on the couch he'll come over to me, leans close into my face with a questioning expression and says "Sauce?"
"Oh yes, I'd like some sauce," I always reply. If I forget to use my good manners he quickly reminds me with a "Please?"
"Oh, where are my manners! Yes please, I'd like some sauce." After he hears that magic word, he races off to make me a saucy creation. From time he shouts "rice?" "jam?" "toast?"
"Yes please!" I shout back.
Sometime he makes me imaginary pancakes, with coasters off of the coffee table. With a real spatula he lifts up the coasters and flips them over in his pan. Of course lately we've been letting him help make real pancakes. Daddy pulls up the step stool to the kitchen counter and lets him pour in the ingredients and do some stirring. How fun is that?
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NEWS FLASH: I am now officially called "mommy." No more "baby" or "weebee."
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If you come within five feet of the little guy's crayons, expect to be asked to draw Amma's cat, Nabi. To him, all cats are Nabi (even lions and tigers). It makes him insanely happy when anyone sits down and draws him a picture of Nabi the Cat.
If you won't draw Nabi, he'll settle for a picture of a horse. Ever since we got back from holidays where we saw horses along a country road, he's been big on horses. Instead of asking to ride the bus, he says "ride the horse?" It's pretty ironic because any time we get near a horses he totally freaks out. To a little guy like him they look pretty big and scary up close.
Speaking of scary things....horses don't freak him out nearly as much as the car wash. When he knows we are about to drive into one he shouts "All done!" The only part of the car wash he likes is the colourful soap that gets squirted all over the car. He calls it "rabow shapoo" (translation: rainbow shampoo). When he gets scared we tell him that cars need to get shampooed too -- just like people.
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His missing sandal has finally resurfaced, along with dozens of other objects that have been tossed over the side of the deck into our caregiver's lush garden. Is it too late to return those expensive crocs that I bought to replace them? I was forced to buy those ones because there wasn't a single pair of sandals left in his size in this entire city. No joke!
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Whenever baby boy feels like violently whacking the furniture, plants, appliances etc...he yells "fly!" I guess he thinks that as long as he says he's swatting flies, it's okay. Think again, my dear!
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Sky gazing is a popular sport these days. And not just because of the frequent airplanes passing overhead.
There was a hot air balloon festival recently, and dozens of balloons floated above our house. I took the little guyf up to the rooftop deck to watch the amazing parade of balloons of every colour, shape and size. Since that day, he frequently climbs up to the third floor to check for balloons. When he can't find any, he's so disappointed!
On a recent early morning walk to the market, we saw the moon in the sky. Although he had heard a lot about the moon, the little guy had never actually seen it before because of his early bedtime hour. When he saw the moon he just about jumped out of the stroller in glee. "Look! There's the moon!" "Moon! Moon! Moon!" He told every person we passed about it.
When we saw a star in the sky last weekend, he was doubly excited.
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"Paul Paul Paul" (translation Uncle Paul) is talked about almost as often as Nabi the Cat since he came to the cottage for a visit a few weeks ago. We have a little photo album that contains some old pictures of Uncle Paul. He likes to flip through the "Paul" book several times a day.
Saturday, September 01, 2007
More vacation pics
Here I am hanging out with my big cousin.
And here I am checking out a very hungry caterpillar with one of my favourite people!
Lucky me! My best buddy came up for the day to the visit. We did all sorts of things together such as throwing rocks in the water, visiting the horses, playing on the play structure and on the deck.
Here I am sharing my toys with my eight month old baby cousin. I also liked giving her lots of hugs and pishes!
Here I am feeling sorry for myself because I missed the boat (well the canoe, actually). I did get to go on a couple of canoe rides though and they were fun and just a little bit scared.
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