Boob, A Baby's Breast Friend

Breastfeeding on the SERIOUS side:

Is it possible? Do I really live in this country? We are so full of ourselves it is unbelievable, because you know, we really do have ALL the answers. And one thing is for sure, breasts are SINFUL!

Just the other day, my husband and I were commenting on how sweet we thought the cover of BabyTalk was, and then we came across and read Eyeful of Breastfeeding-Mom Sparks Outrage. People, including breastfeeding mothers, are actually up in arms over the picture.

We really do need to get over our squeamishness about the human body. It's a breast, it has a WHOLESOME purpose of providing nutrition to babies. Nutrition, that baby formula companies try to replicate.

I breastfeed. I breastfed Ian until he was 12 months, and I'm currently breastfeeding my six month old daughter Laurel. What really outrages me, is I'm too aware of how the public feels about this topic, and so I feed my baby discreetly. I just don't want to deal with backwards peoples' stares or them coming up to me snarling, "That's disgusting."

Unfortunately, growing up a guilt-ridden Catholic, I'm also very modest and worry what others might think about my actions. I just can't get past those facts. Close friends and immediate family members have seen me breastfeed, but only because I know they won't pass judgement. As for the rest of the world, I'm just not ready. I applaud the women that are past their and other peoples' inhibitions and can breastfeed out in the open.

One day, walking around Costco, I noticed a mother breastfeeding her child. I couldn't help but stare. It wasn't that I found it disgusting, it was the fact that she was WALKING around the store nursing her infant. This was truly amazing! Me, I have to get perfectly situated in a chair, with a Boppy or a My Brest Friend pillow no less, before I let Laurel at it. But this wonderful mother was making the most of her time. Infants feed pretty much around the clock. She found a way to multitask. Shopping and breastfeeding at the same time, the ultimate multitasking if you ask me! No slinking off to a dressing room, corner of the store, or worse yet, the bathroom, ick. She was out there, getting things done, not caring what the world thought. I don't know her name, I will probably never see her again, and yet she is my heroine.

I haven't given up on myself. I still hopefully have another six months to "expose" myself to the public, but alas, I just don't think it will happen. A few of my big hopes are that my daughter will be able to breastfeed where ever she needs without worrying about other's thoughts, and that the U.S. will finally educate itself (hello, third world countries are smarter than we are in this matter) and realize a breast has a purpose beyond sex. Don't we have more important issues to get outraged about?


Breastfeeding on the lighter side:

Ian is a keen observer. He is also very curious. When I nurse Laurel, he is right there, checking it out. He doesn't want to miss out on something good. Often he looks like he might jump right in and partake, but then he giggles and runs off.

One day, I heard Laurel cooing and laughing with glee. I peeked around the corner and saw Ian practically laying on top of her head. He was holding his shirt up with one hand and was placing his nipple over her face. I had to ask, "Ian, what are you doing?"

"Mommy, Laurel wants milk."

But of course, perfect sense.

Ok, breastfeeding critics, even my two year old knows what's natural and necessary.

Sit Down Comedienne

Umm, excuse me...





I'd like to share a story. You see, there was this baby, toddler and preschooler at the sandbox...







...and then the baby spits out her binky, gives the evil eye to the toddler and preschooler, and says, "THBPBPTHPT!"










Ha, ha, ha, hee, hee, hee.

That one always cracks me up!










True story, honest. What, you don't believe me? Well just ask the baby, she'll tell you it word for word.

Thunder Storm

Last night, we finally had an honest to goodness thunder storm. I can't remember the last time that happened. I lay in bed watching streaks of lightning peek between the slats of closed blinds. I should have opened them to watch the show, but was too tired. Thunder rumbled softly for a while as the storm approached. Then it was over us. Buckets and buckets of rain, lightning, thunder so close it shook the house.

I kept wishing for Ian to wake up and come running into our room. I wanted to snuggle up with him and share this rare event. Paul was downstairs working late, so I decided to peek in Ian's room to see if the storm woke him. No such luck, he was sleeping soundly. For a brief moment, I thought about waking him up, and then remembered the cardinal rule: If the baby's happy and calm, let him/her be. Darn it! I went back to bed and laid down listening to nature's music, quickly surrendering to sleep.

Puzzled

Unbelievable...my 26 month old son is doing 24 piece jigsaw puzzles.

I have some boxes of puzzles for when my five and eight year old nieces come over for a visit. Ian somehow found them, and of course dragged out the one with a picture of Cookie Monster and Elmo on it. He opened the box and delighted as pieces of his heroes fell all over the floor. I decided this was a great opportunity for some one-on-one time with him and helped him piece it together. He was so excited to find that all those pieces came together and made his furry blue and red friends.

Now, the boy is obsessed! Frequently throughout the day, I find Ian working on a puzzle. It is amazing how quickly he is able to put it together. When I watch him complete a puzzle, he likes to tease me and start singing the Clean Up Song while lifting up an edge or corner piece, like he's going to put it away. I'll join in and start singing the song along with him and he'll giggle and state, "No Mommy, no," and puts the piece back in its place.

True to toddler form, Ian loves to do the same puzzle over and over again. This has definitely helped him learn how the pieces fit together. He could probably do a few of the puzzles with his eyes closed. I'm exaggerating, but not by much. I once watched him complete, take apart, and reassemble his Cookie Monster and Elmo puzzle four times in a row before trying a different one.






So question is, does this take the place of his garbage truck obsession? No way! When he hears the garbage truck coming down the street, he drops whatever puzzle piece is in his hand, runs as fast as his not-so-little leggies will carry him to the front window, and excitedly screams, "Garbage truck, garbage truck coming!" Imagine how crazy he would become if I found him a garbage truck puzzle!

The Big Pay-Off

Paul and I are doing our best to make sure Ian is exposed to different foods. As all parents are aware, cake is more than acceptable to a hungry toddler. Cookies, ice cream and french fries, ditto. Brussel sprouts, well, umm...you have to draw the line somewhere, right?

Different articles state it takes several attempts, perhaps around 15 times, before a baby/toddler gets used to a new food. Armed with this information, Paul and I face each meal with determination. No matter how often Ian refuses to eat a particular fruit or vegetable, protein, or other food group, we continue to put it on his plate.

Another frustration we are aware of, is the fact that a toddler will refuse to eat favorite foods on a whim. This does not mean he suddenly dislikes it, just that he wants to exercise his power to say no. After all, toddlers thrive thinking they have control. We can't force Ian to eat, but by golly we can continue to put those foods in front of him. The idea behind this is to let him think it's his choice to eat those vegetables.

Persistence is key. Articles claiming it takes about 15 times to acquire a new taste, are understating it ten fold for flavors along the lines of say brussel sprouts and broccoli. Those are some strong flavors to get used to! Be that as it may, we continue to put those lovely greens before our charming little fellow. And guess what, he's come around to liking some of them. Look at the picture carefully and you'll notice Ian happily eating broccoli. There are even floret fragments on his chin to prove it! Trust me, this didn't happen overnight. It didn't even happen within a month. He's probably seen broccoli at least 20 times before even trying the stuff, quickly spitting it out with a declarative, "BLAH!"

At that point, he was at least willing to keep trying broccoli, although for a long time it kept being spit out. Eventually he started swallowing the horrid, ahem, I mean wonderful stuff. He even eats the left overs while still cold. Crazy I tell you, and I'm loving it!

Today, Ian's eating broccoli and tomatoes. Tomorrow he may eat red peppers. As for lima beans, we've got a long way to go, but we keep trying. Poor Ian, he's going to have a lot of beans staring him square in the face during dinner.

Catch Up

Hard to believe, but it's been a month since I last posted. YIKES!

Let's see... what have we been up to?

We took a road trip to northern Arizona to see not one, but two Great-Grandmas! Add to that two Great-Aunts, two Great-Uncles, three second cousins, and a Great-Grandpa. There's just a whole lot of family going on up there. Laurel and Ian are very lucky to have an abundance of family nearby.

Right before we left for the road trip, our computer died. I was trying to make a collection of pictures of the kids to print and take up to the grandparents. In the middle of editing a picture, the hard drive took a turn for the worse. We had not backed up last month's pictures and were worried they were lost for good. Paul is a genius and managed to recover them all and fix the computer.

Paul and I celebrated our third anniversary. Thanks to our gracious parents babysitting the kids, we went out for a very stereotypical dinner and a movie date. LOVED IT! We saw Superman Returns, a very fun movie in my opinion, and ate at Cheesecake Factory, super yummy.

We spent the Fourth of July at my parents, along with the very energetic cousins Miss Allison and Miss Madison, and their not so energetic dad. The girls definitely know how to get Ian excited and bouncing off the walls. We stood out on the street and were able to watch not one mind you, but three firework shows! BANG!

Lucky Ian got to see the dentist. In the past, Ian has screamed bloody murder the minute he has to lay down for the checkup. I thought I would help the poor little guy get mentally ready by talking to him days ahead of time of what to expect. We even role played the visit. Pretending to be the dentist, I would tell Ian to open wide and then I'd count his teeth while I brushed each one. He was cooperative and seemed ready for the real thing. Confidently we went to our appointment, Ian talking about the dentist on the drive over. The second I laid Ian down in the big chair, I could tell he was not ok with the proceedings, whimpers and sobs were heard throughout the exam. At least he didn't scream this time, a huge improvement in my mind.

A couple unpleasant events occurred this last month. Our air conditioner went out on a Friday night. The soonest we could get someone to take a look was Monday. We quickly packed for the weekend and headed to a cheap motel, big mistake. The room we started out in was having cooling problems itself. Ugh. We packed everything back up (which of course is an easy thing to do with gear for a toddler and a baby) and headed to another room. At least it had a working AC unit. Monday morning, we left the kids with grandparents, Paul headed off to work, and I waited in a sweltering house while the technician determined we needed to replace the compressor, ouch. Of course, he wouldn't be able to pick up the parts until the following morning, double ouch. Tuesday, I lounged in a 97 degree house while the guy worked in 110 degree heat for seven hours. Thankfully, we have cool air again.

We also have had swimming pool trouble. We feared there was an underground leak in the pipes leading back to the filter. The soonest we could get someone out for the repair was two weeks later. Despite us manually trying to scour and skim, the pool was slowly getting dirtier and dirtier and turning green from algae. To our relief, the leak was above ground and did not involve jackhammering the deck.

Currently, both Ian and Laurel have colds. It seems every time Ian and I go to a toddler class, he comes back with another cold to share with Laurel. At least their immune systems are getting a workout.

I think that catches us up. Hopefully, I'll be able to find time to keep a little more current.

For the Love of Books

I’m slaving over a hot stove, when a very excited Ian comes bouncing into the kitchen. He holds up a ragged, but very loved book and says, “Mama, Crack in the Track.” (The title actually being, Thomas the Tank Engine and the Crack in the Track.)

His sweet face is just one big, happy smile. I desperately want to do his bidding, but with chicken frying in a pan, this is not the best time for me to cuddle up with Ian and read a book. Having high hopes he will grow up a voracious reader, I don’t want to discourage him.

“Ian, read Thomas to Laurel.”

He looks down at his book, obviously thinking about his next action. I am half expecting him to repeat his request, but then to my surprise, he dashes out of the kitchen towards his baby sister lying on the living room floor.

To my delight, I hear soft words coming from Ian and Laurel’s direction. I have to check out what is going on. I walk into the living room and find Ian sitting next to Laurel, gingerly turning the pages of his book as he “reads” it to her. Laurel is absolutely transfixed upon Ian’s face, kicking her legs in excitement.



I can’t help myself; I have to kiss my kids. Oh, how I hope these moments are numerous!

And The Father of the Year Award Goes To...

PAUL

I love to watch Paul interact with our children. Each of his actions clearly demonstrates how dedicated a father he is. Usually I am in the mix with the three of them, but on occasion, I get an opportunity to just observe and admire the man that I love. In honor of Father’s Day, I wanted to list a few of the things I love watching Paul do with our kids.

1. Tickling – using hands and toes, Paul sends our kids into giggling fits of laughter. At times, he holds Ian in his lap with one arm, jerkily swings his other arm around like a machine (sounds effects used for emphasis), suspends it above Ian’s body and then drops it for a tickling siege. Laurel delights in having her daddy raspberry her tummy.

2. Chasing – fun is being chased by a daddy monster. A crazed, wild-eyed look, hooked arms, and grunts signal to Ian that he is about to be chased. Once captured, Paul flips Ian upside down and either tickles him or gives him a pink belly.

3. Comforting – cradling an inconsolable Laurel, Paul softly sings and walks her about until she falls asleep. No one else can do this, not even me.

4. Doctoring – making numerous trips to the doctor and pharmacy for a sick Ian while I was recovering from the C-Section with Laurel, had to be a daunting task. Many a night Paul was up, giving breathing treatments and medicine to Ian, or cleaning up a vomit soaked child and changing sheets. Never a complaint was heard, only concern.

5. Relaxing – Paul knows how to relax. He loves to take the opportunity to cradle a sleeping baby on his chest and lay down to take a nap. These moments are few and fleeting, so go for it honey.

6. Disciplining – Paul is extremely patient. When I’m at the point of losing it to a persistent misbehaving toddler, he takes over and calmly reinforces our expectations (a.k.a. the rules).

7. Playing – A boy at heart, Paul loves to get down on the floor and play with the kids. Whether it’s peek-a-boo with Laurel, or trucks and Legos with Ian, he’s enjoying and savoring each precious moment.

8. Adoring – Right now, at this time of his life, Paul’s hobby is his kids. Everything he does is with them in mind. He is amazed at how they grow and learn. With each new development, Paul is right there cheering his children on, encouraging them to try again or continue their discovery. He takes time to read up on child development and parenting techniques, and talks with me about how to best help our children succeed.

9. Enduring – Paul knows at least a dozen of Ian’s books by heart. “Again, again,” insists our boy. (Thanks, Teletubbies!) I can’t count the number of times Paul has pretended to be a garbage truck in order to pick up and flip Ian, the human trash barrel, upside-down.

10. Modeling – I can’t think of a better role model for my children than Paul. As our children grow and learn, they will observe their father’s actions and hopefully internalize some of his wonderful traits.

I am so grateful Paul is on this exciting adventure of parenting with me. It’s a lot of hard work, but with Paul as my partner in crime, it becomes incredibly fun and rewarding.

Happy Father’s Day PAUL, I LOVE YOU!

Dressing My Baby Doll

My mom is a packrat. She managed to hang onto many a toy from my childhood. This was no surprise to me since I've seen my nieces and nephews playing with them throughout the years. What did surprise me, was when she gave me some outfits from when I was wee baby, no older than Laurel is now.

I had to see Laurel in the very same outfits I wore back some thirty years ago. It's interesting to see how the fashions have changed. I think my favorite outfit is the green and yellow plaid dress.







Thanks mom for saving the outfits. It was a lot of fun to dress my doll.

The Iceman Cometh

I go to get a drink of water. Of course, ice is needed, so I place my glass into the ice/water dispenser, pressing the button to release a few "cubes". Ice spills into the glass. Some escape and fall to the floor. The sound of ice plummeting onto hard tile brings Ian running.


"Ice, mama. Ice."

He quickly searches for clear cresent shapes. To his delight, he finds one and tries to pick it up. His pudgy hand tries to grasp the cube, but the cold, watery mass slips between his fingers and slides across the floor. Ian stands and locates his prey. Once spotted, he runs over to it and squats. Again, he tries to pick up the ice, this time successfully.





He holds out his hand in my direction and proudly proclaims, "Mama, ice!"

Happy about his acquisition, Ian walks over to the sink, eyes glued to his hand, making sure the contents don't escape again. No matter how tight his grip, water drips between his fingers, leaving a trail across the kitchen floor.








Ian slowly reaches up, water now dripping down his arm, and releases his prize into the sink. He turns to face me, an earnest look sweeps across his face. "Mama, ice."

Ian's TWO

"How old are you?"

Ian smiles at this question and replies, "Two years OLD!"

Ian, I can't believe you are two years old. How is that possible? I told you when you were 4 months old to stop growing and learning. And now look at you, you're a giant! But you're our giant, and mama and dada love you very much. Alright, go ahead and grow, but could you at least slow down a bit?


2 months
3 months
5 months
9 months
12 months
15 months
20 months
22 months

My 2 year old, all grown up. He even has a mustache and a beard!

Tired?

I think I need to force myself to take a nap.

Yesterday, I shaved one leg twice (boy was it smooth!), leaving the other one, well, ummm, stubbly would be putting in nice.

Today, I opened the pantry to find a gallon of milk. I quickly decided it hadn't been out of the fridge too long (hopefully), and put it back. Maybe I better double check to see if the milk actually made it back into the fridge.

I've tried putting Ian's enormous diapers on poor little Laurel. I swear the look on her face said, "Are you crazy woman?"

I looked her squarely in the eyes and replied back, "Why yes, yes I AM! See what happens when you wake up Mama twice in the night."

Too many times today, I've gone into another room to do something and forgotten what it was. I hate that! Then I'm in a daze trying to figure out what I'm suppose to be doing.

Look out Laurel, as soon as Ian goes down for his nap, you and I have a date with the sofa.

Whoo-hoo, Let's Party

Ian had his two year birthday party last weekend. The morning of the party, he came down the stairs and saw BALLOONS. Oh boy, was he ever excited!

"Mama, red balloon! Dada, red balloon! Mama, blue balloon! Dada, blue balloon!"

Then he noticed the table where the cake would go.

"Mama, Thomas! Dada, Thomas!"

Obviously, we had a Thomas the Tank Engine theme. Before I had kids, I thought people were kind of crazy buying all that party themed stuff. Now that I have two kids of my own, I completely understand.



Ian ran/danced/flew (literally) through the house, pointing out all the decorations. He just could not contain his excitement. I don't think his feet ever touched the ground as he bounced from one area to the next.

Once people started arriving, Ian transformed from hyperactive boy, to coy and shy. He likes to run up to the window by the door to see who's there, and then run away as soon as the door opens. He'll come back nice and slow, sidling the whole way, head cocked to one side and a big grin spread across his face. That's just his way of trying to look so cool. Good luck with that one little man!

Paul helped Ian open presents while I took pictures. There was some kewl stuff to be had, but the all-time favorite was the GARBAGE TRUCK! Ah yes, Papa and Grandma did awesome with that gift. It even had a trash barrel on the side that the truck hoists up and dumps its contents into the back. As soon as the garbage truck was out of the package, (kudos, by the way, to Mom and Dad for having the truck already unwired and untaped so it would slide right out of the box!) all the kids, girls included, swamped around Ian hoping to play with it. It took some doing to get the mob to break up and to pry the truck out of Ian's hands in order to open the last gift.





Then we made the mistake of wanting to light candles on the cake and sing Happy Birthday to Ian too soon after the presents were unwrapped. Now that I think about it, maybe we should have reversed the order of the activities. At any rate, Ian didn't want to stop playing with his newly acquired toys. Who could blame him, they are all so kewl! When Paul and I dragged him over to the cake, he was extremely upset and crying. Thanks to our camcorder, we now have footage of a very unhappy Ian on the very day he should be happiest. Not that I feel guilty or anything.

But wait, the best is yet to come. Paul and I had noticed earlier that Ian's eyes were red. His nose had been running nonstop, along with an occasional cough. We thought his allergies had kicked into high gear and gave him some Benadryl thinking that would do the trick. The day after the party, Ian woke up with his eyes so crusted over he couldn't open them. I rushed him to the doctor to see what was going on. You guessed it: PINK EYE! Ah yes, the birthday gift that keeps on giving. We warned our party guests about what could possibly be in store for them. Oh so sorry, to anyone suffering. Hopefully everyone will luck out and not get it.



As for Ian, his eyes are already looking better, and he happily plays with his new toys every chance he gets. I just have to convince him that it is necessary to eat once in a while.

Bonka Head

Ian is a silly, silly little guy. He loves to smile and laugh, and make others smile and laugh. He is at that age where his mind is a sponge and quickly absorbs every little thing. But when something is actually taught, well, there's no stopping him.

Ian recently learned a new trick. He likes to bat the top of our heads with his pudgy paws and giggle, "Bonka head, bonka head." As long as he doesn't hit hard, this is fine with me, it's just a game he's playing. Then again, what two year old can tell when they finally reached that fine line of hitting too hard?

So, I'm going out on a limb and say I think one of Ian's wonderful uncles taught him this bonka skill. In fact, I'm going to go even further and state who I think did it. We were curious and thought maybe Ian would be able to tell us who his bonka head master was. We asked him, "Who taught you bonka head?"

Ian slyly smiled and happily stated, "Jason bonka head."

I can't wait to find out if I'm right or not. I may owe Jason an apology. But, if I'm right, then look out, Ian is becoming quite the snitch.

What? Eat? I Don't Think So!

Laurel's four months old, and can now experience "solid foods." I've been watching her closely as the rest of us eat our meals, and I'm telling you, I've yet to see an inkling of interest in her. While we're eating, she watches the ceiling fan spin, or fusses.

I remember when Ian was approaching this age, he intently watched us eat. He was so interested his little head would follow along as each spoonful went into our mouths. The first time he ate rice cereal, he actually ate it. His little mouth opened right up, like a baby bird waiting for its worm. I swear he even said, "Mmmmmm." He was READY for something besides milk!

Just for kicks, we decided to let Laurel try some rice cereal. As the spoon slowly approached, she looked around at other things of interest to her. When the rice cereal was poured into her mouth, she looked horrified. Her eyes clearly expressed concern over what just happened, and her mouth hung open as the cereal streamed out the corners. We decided to try again, same results. On our third try, she began shaking her head to avoid the same unpleasantness. Clearly, she was not ready.

A couple days later, I decided to let her experience cereal again. Same results, disbelief followed by head shaking urgently so I couldn't hit my mark. Oh well, she's satisfied with milk for the time being. We'll just have to torture her again in a week or so and see if she's changed her mind.

AAAAHHHH!!!!

Yesterday, I picked up one of Ian's toys and saw something from underneath running towards the TV stand. Out of the corner of my eyes, I thought what I saw was a very small scorpion. "AAAAHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Paul came down the stairs to inquire about my scream as I quickly moved Laurel and Ian away from the area. You'd think something that small couldn't possibly be dangerous and I was just overreacting, but NO! The smaller the scorpion, the more potent the venom. Paul moved the heavy TV stand out from the wall, hoping to find what I saw. Instead he found the carcass of a bigger, fortunately already dead, scorpion.

We were getting ready to head out the door, so we couldn't keep looking for that damn scorpion. Plus there was no guarantee we'd find something that small among all the TV/stereo/TiVo cords. We went to the store and then to my parents for a barbeque. Five hours later we arrived home. I opened the door, when what to my tired eyes did I see, but the same small scorpion. At least I think it was the same scorpion, for all I know there's an entire family of them residing in my house.

Paul walked around to the other entry door and went to the kitchen to grab some clear packaging tape. I was trying to keep my eyes on the scorpion while holding Laurel and keeping a very curious Ian at bay. Paul snuck up behind the scorpion and quickly pressed the tape down onto its body, killing it.

Now, I'm picking everything off the floor (blankets, toys, newspapers, magazines, kids, etc.) when we're done using it. Shoes are mandatory, especially downstairs and outside. We are checking the beds before hopping in for the night. I do an inspection of the premises every morning before the kids are let loose on the carpet. It seems that all my dreams include scorpions these days, and rattlesnakes now that we've found some holes out in the landscape. Oh the joys of living in the desert. I think we need a cat and chickens. Unfortunately, I'm highly allergic to cats, and our HOA would probably frown upon us having chickens. Next solution...hmmm, sticky tape to stop them in their tracks? Actually, we did try this and all we caught were lizards, poor things. Ring of fire around the house? No wait, I don't think they swim. That's it, we need a moat!

Clean Up

At one of Ian's toddler classes, I noticed something phenomenal. At the end of every class, the teacher sang a song, with the children and their parents joining in once they recognized its tune.

Clean up, clean up,
Everybody, everywhere.
Clean up, clean up,
Everybody do their share.

Some of the older children actually began picking up the toys! Wow, I thought, toddlers cleaning up after themselves, I have to do this. Beginning that very night, we (we meaning Paul and I) began to sing that very same song and picking up all the toys throughout the house. At that stage of the game, Ian was about 14 months old. He would follow us around and pretty much watch us clean up. His idea of helping was to pick up a toy and play with it.

I knew consistency was key. We kept going through the same motions and it wasn't long before Ian caught on to the rules of the game. At first, he would bring us objects we asked for. "Ian, get the ball, please." He would toddle over to the ball, pick it up, toddle back to us, of course dropping the ball along the way, pick it up again, and finally toddle it over to us and successfully hand it over.

Then Ian started bringing us objects without being told. Enormous amounts of clapping and cheering ensured this continued. He happily kept bringing more and more toys just for the attention. At some point, we also started giving Ian a five minute warning as to when clean up would begin. It helped him mentally prepare to end play time and get ready for the transition.

Now, when Ian hears the Clean Up song, he sings what he can, and races to the living room where his huge collection of vehicles resides. Without even Paul or I being in the same room, he begins to put his toys away. Of course this thrills us to no end, but what really makes us smile is when he sweetly states, "Night, night, train. Night, night, bulldozer. Night, night, __________," as he puts each vehicle into the trundle. How cute is that! Each toy gets to be put in "bed" by its loving owner.

The Missing Left Sock Syndrome

Laurel, at only 4 months old, has a special talent of removing her left sock. It seems that whenever I turn around, she has managed to get off one sock, 99 percent of the time being the left one. She doesn't use her hands, after all, she is still figuring out what those are for besides stuffing them into her mouth. It's by kicking and rubbing her wee leggies together that she manages to get that one sock off.



A nursery rhyme in honor of Laurel:

Diddle, diddle, dumpling,
My daughter Laurel,
Went to bed without a quarrel;
One sock off and one sock on,
Diddle, diddle, dumpling,
My daughter Laurel.


*In the picture, you'll of course notice her left foot is sockless. Also, notice the three sparkly bandaids. She got three shots on that day, and yet she still managed a smile. What a trooper!

Boo-boo

Ian's had his share of boo-boos over the last couple of years. His first "catastrophy" was back when he was learning to stand. He loved propping himself up against our French doors to look outside. Of course balance gave way to gravity, and his forehead landed on the door hinge. That same day, he fell again and hit his head on the tile floor. Ever since, he's had one bruise after another.

The newest thing is for him to tell us about his boo-boos. A couple of days ago, he was playing with our bathroom scale. I have no idea what fascinates a toddler about a scale, but that is what he decided to play with. He picked it up despite his father's warnings, and naturally it dropped onto his big toe. Upon further inspection, Paul found some skin on Ian's toe had scrapped off. Ian shed no tears, just kept looking kind of numb. Paul bandaged the wound and Ian gingerly walked over towards me. "Mama, kiss it, make it better."

I could feel the tears swelling in my eyes, a reaction to both the empathy for poor Ian's pain and the joy at the amazing thing he just said to me. As he stood before me, I couldn't believe how brave he was, and how he truly believed my kiss would make his pain go away. I obediently bent down and kissed his sweet, bandaged toe.



The rest of the day, I kept hearing, "Kiss it, make it better." How could I resist such a request?

Yin and Yang

Since birth, Laurel has let us know when she's not satisfied with the service she is receiving. She's not too subtle about it either. We were driving home from our weekly Costco trip, when Laurel decided to let us know she was bored. Whines, accompanied by a little bit of huffing, were clearly heard. I looked back into the mirror we strapped to the headrest of the seat she's in, and saw her squirming and looking fairly grim. If she could have turned her lips down any more, she would have looked like the Master Control Program from the movie Tron.

I thought a little entertainment might pacify her, and quickly strained my tired brain for options. Ian was sitting next to and facing Laurel, so I asked him to tickle her toes. He smiled, and tried to reach for her chubby piggies. However, being strapped in to his own car seat made it an impossible feat. Since I was riding shot gun, I decided to give it a try myself. As soon as my hand was in Laurel's view, she grabbed it and pulled it to her mouth. Her complaints turned into sweet coos and squeals of delight.

Once I thought she was satisfied, I removed my hand and faced forward again. She immediately barked out her disapproval. I returned my hand, she grabbed it and happily began singing. I decided to test her and removed my hand. Again, she voiced her objection. As soon as my hand was in sight, she grabbed it and started cooing. It soon turned into a game of me teasing her, and Laurel either being annoyed or happy. Yes, sometimes I am evil.



The cool glowing affect around Laurel is thanks to Ian. He happily smudged the camera lens with his fingers. Who knew it would make for such a heavenly picture?

BTW: GO SUNS!!!! Whoo-hoo!!!