A photo journal comprised of my thoughts on motherhood and other life happenings, as well as some of professional work as a photographer. Southern California is home.
So I was motivated to start potty training last week. Yes, I’m already speaking in the past tense. Hooper was ready. I, however, was not.
I remember when we first brought Sarah home. She was three months and we trained her to sleep in a crate. Every morning there would be piss and shit in her crate until we decided we would take turns getting up at 2am to let her out to pee. Eventually she caught on and after a while she was able to hold it until morning. It really wasn’t so difficult, in the end.
Fast forward to two kids later.
I opted to go the naked route, at first. I brought the potty out and sat it in the middle of the room and for the first hour it seemed all we talked about was the potty. I repetitively asked him if he wanted to use it. I encouraged him to sit down on it. I gave him a piece of candy to try to keep him on it. And then he pissed in the corner.
I cleaned it up and thought maybe it would be better to put underwear on him so he could feel what it’s like to be wet. And then he pissed while riding his toy car around.
And then I realized I was too tired from being up the night before with Van and I put a diaper on. Someone please send the bad mom award this way. I know consistency is key so I’m going to tackle it another day… when I have more energy and patience and a few consecutive days off work in a row to really give it the good ol’ fashion try. So yeah, along with the bad mom award can you also send energy, patience, and consecutive days off work?
Looking at my little boy in those undies might be the biggest motivator of all…
And… I do have some consecutive days off work this week, so round 2 is currently in progress. Wish me luck. And share any tips. I have no idea what I’m doing…
When I started Hooper’s baby book, in the first month of documentation, I made a list. I’m not type A, by the way, but I do love me some lists. The first list I started was “Things I can’t wait for”. The list included things like reading him his favorite book, hearing his voice, giving him food for the first time (turns out, if I could go back in time, I would have taken that off the list. Total flunk. Totally overrated. Feeding him sucks and now I “can’t wait” until he’s responsible for feeding himself. I digress). In making the list, I realized that what I was doing was dangerous. The moment they are in right now gets overlooked if you’re constantly looking toward the future. So my intention was to get a quick “can’t wait” list out of the way so I could get back to soaking up all the spit up that was indeed my reality at the time. And is now my reality once again.
With two boys, the list of “can’t waits” has transformed to include things that involve both of them. Things on the list today include:
-Building forts
-Overhearing their silly conversations
-Going to a baseball game
-Hearing them bicker and then hearing them stop bickering
-Meeting their mutual friends
-Taking them fishing
-Selling something on the side of the road (hopefully not their bodies or souls. I’m talking about lemonade people, or firewood, or painted rocks)
-Should I dare to hope for a performance of some kind? A brotherly puppet show production, per say? Yes, yes, I can’t wait for that too.
Funny things have been happening around these parts. Someone has become quite the Mister Casanova, swooping in on the little ladies and planting kisses on their sweet soft cheeks. Who is this boy? I mean check out his eyes… they’re closed. He ain’t messin’ around. Need a kiss? Come on over; someone in this house is eager to plant a little sumptim sumptim on your face. Dear Hooper, kiss em’ while you can… You only live once.
I could eat him. I really could. Kisses so sweet they’ll steal your soul, I swear. And with that, I wish ya’ll a Happy New Year.
Growth & Appearance: Still in size 4 diapers. It feels like I’m going to be saying that forever. Size 7 shoes. 2T pants fit but will be too short soon enough. 2T shirts are perfect. You’re due for another hair cut as soon as I can get my ish together.
Eating: There were a few days we questioned if you weren’t feeling well. You slept one day until one in the afternoon and had a little bit of throw up on your blanket. This was followed by two or three days of horrible eating despite a chipper mood. You’ve been better the past few days so I guess we’ll give you a pass and chalk it up to you not feeling well. Your eating, in general, still sucks. There are good days and there are bad days. The bad days are terrible.
Lunch- Avocado sandwich, PJ sandwich, grilled cheese or quesadilla on flax seed tortilla, deli meat
Dinner- Veggie burgers, breaded chicken, peas and corn
Development: You love jumping off things. You like to climb on top of the ottoman in Van’s room and jump off. You don’t push off two feet quite yet. You also enjoy galloping, spinning around in circles, and jumping on your bed and on the sofa. You like to play the “dark game”, where we go into your room, close the door, and turn off the light at-which-point you proclaim, “dark”. You also have an understanding of what it means to be happy and are quick to proclaim “haw-pee” when you hear music or see people dancing. You graduated from standing in your bath to swimming, completely bypassing the whole sitting stage. You’re either up on your feet or down on your belly.
Favorites: You’d watch TV all day if we let you. Though you usually lose interest at some point. It’s been a good distraction while I’m busy feeding Van but it’s probably my least favorite thing so we’ve been limiting TV time significantly. With that said, you’re still obsessed with your cars and lining them up everywhere. I must clean the sofa off daily only to find it filled with cars again moments later.
Talking: You’re putting a lot of words together. Most of your sentences begin with “mama” or “papa” and end with something like shoe, or car, or eye. You’ve also become quite literal, quick to point out what things are as you pass them as if the world is one big game of pictionary. The other day we went outside and you pointed out the rocks, and sky, and trees, and leaves, and grass. You said your first three word sentence the other day when you noticed Papa’s car was missing, “Paw-pa ka bye”, said with a noticeable pause and stutter between each word. Your brain is running the race much faster than your mouth. Your mouth is like the fat kid slowing to a fast walk every 50 feet. The result is the silliest stutter I ever did hear. It’s quite endearing. It goes something like this: “Papa kar. Pa Papa kar. (pause). Papa k-kar. Papa (pause) kar (pause) bye”.
I’ve said it in the months prior, but we are in a state of a language explosion. Everyday your Papa and I look to one another and ask, “Did you teach him that?” And we always look at each other dumbfounded. Like the other day when you picked up your toy syringe (I know, future addict, right?) and came up and pushed it into my butt (I know, my butt of all places?) and said “sshhhot”.
Sleeping: You’re still taking two naps a day and both naps are taken in your playpen, which we have smack dab in the middle of your room so it’s just out of reach of your drawers. We learned the hard way when we came in to find you napping on top of a pile of your diapers you had removed from your dresser drawer. You nap well, but apparently you need to be held prisoner to fall asleep. You do well sleeping in your bed during the night and often climb out of bed and jiggle your door handle to let us know you are awake. Much to my dismay, you’ve figured out how to open the door to your room from the inside. You’ve done this once and once only. I’m hoping the fact you escaped totally slipped your mind. I guess we should get one of those safety door knob things soon. Why can’t they make a giant bed belt that just kinda straps you in? What’s that you say? It’s called a crib? Oh yes, you’re right. Too bad your parents were too cheap to go out and buy another one. Hash tag: Regretting that decision. Not really though. You’re pretty cute in your big boy bed. You sleep about 16 hours in a 24 hour period.
Disney has it all figured out. It’s like visual heroin. Every time I wear my Mickey sweatshirt, Hoop loses it. And by lose it, I mean he squeals with excitement. He’s never watched a Disney show and has never seen Mickey anywhere other than on my sweatshirt and on an old plastic plate we have. He’s gonna lose his mind when he learns he’s an actual character and that there’s a girl version too and, oh ya, that there’s this little amusement park dedicated to him just a drive away. I bought him a vintage Mickey shirt some time ago and when I pulled it out of his closet the other day, he gave the shirt a hug and kiss. This was preceded, of course, by excited squealing. Before we had kids, Willy and I would conjure up ridiculous plots to avoid having to go to Disneyland. One of these plots included paying Mickey to say mean things to our kid so he/she would never want to go back. Though now, I must admit, his excitement is contagious. It’s true that you live somewhat through your children, cuz part of me can’t wait to introduce him to the land that attaches to Disney. I mean, seriously, this kid is going to go nuts when he meets Mickey in the flesh and blood… or cotton suit and mouse ears. Or whatever.
Growth: You weigh 28 pounds (50th percentile), are 35 1/4 inches tall (70th percentile), and your noggin is 19 1/4 inches (60th percentile). Your height and head circumference are in the same percentile as your 18 month checkup. Your weight has jumped percentiles (you were in the 30th). Guess chasing you around with a spoonful of food has paid off. You’re welcome. Though it’s been a real pain in my ass.
Appearance: You had your second hair cut ever this month. You got to sit on a fake motorcycle while the fortune teller of a hairdresser made predictions about your hair. She says you will not be blond. She also says you have tons and tons of hair coming in and are destined to have very thick hair. Her certainty about it all kinda made me want to ask her about other things in life like what your favorite color will be when your ten years old. You know, the important stuff.
Your fingers are hyper-extended like mine. When I was little, I used to bend my index finger back and tuck it under a rubber band so that straight on it appeared that I only had four fingers. This was my absolute favorite trick for a long, long time. I hope you can carry on my four finger legacy.
Feeding: I’m considering starting a series entitled, “Toys at the Table”. That’s because, as of late, toys have been a great utensil. And by utensil I mean a tool used to feed. So in addition to the overly used fork and knife, at our table you will also find a slinky and a puppet. The puppet has been our saving grace. So effective that I’m considering building a chair just for it to join us at mealtime. As soon as that thing goes over our hand, your mouth opens. You enjoy pretending to feed it too. Sometimes we’ll use the laptop to play videos to distract you while you eat. Gangnam Style and the parody Hot Dog Condom Style are sure bets. You eat, without any hesitation, whenever either of these videos are playing.
You ate an entire serving of tilapia the other night, your first time agreeing to eat fish. That’s the first “new” thing we’ve tried in a while, as we’ve given in to keeping your meals relatively routine, rotating amongst the six or so different meals you “like”.
You also eat your own boogers.
I asked your Papa his input for this section. Here’s what he had to say: “It sucks”.
Developmental: I’m still stickin’ to the fact you are left handed. You hold a pencil, every time, with your left hand. You use your right, however, to eat and do some other random things.
You know the colors pink, green, brown, blue, and yellow though more times than not you refer to everything as “boo” aka blue.
You’re still quite bossy. My favorite move as of late is when you pat the sofa and say “bay-bee, bay-bee”, instructing me to put the baby down. After I set Van down, you grab my hand and yank me around to whatever it is you want. Usually you want to go to the front yard.
You jump well. The sofa cushions will never be the same. Neither will your head when you inevitably fall off the sofa from jumping on it one of these days. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
On any given day, you can still find a line of cars somewhere. Be it on the table, the sofa, or on the floor it comes with a guarantee that there will be a line of cars.
Talking: I wound up your little Mickey mouse toy and as Mickey scooted across the floor, you proclaimed “cooool” for the first time. So apparently, in addition to knowing a new word, you also have ideas and preferences and things you consider cool. Where or where did my baby go?
You say way too many words to keep track of. You’ll repeat just about anything we ask you to say.
You are limited to two sentences: “doo doo, papa” (when Papa farts) and “mama car” (when you see a car that resembles mine).
You pronounce your name as “Ha-poo”. Though more times than not, when we ask you what your name is, you reply with “me”.
You also started raising both palms up to the air as if asking a question as to where something went or what something is. It’s pretty cute.
Sleeping: Day light savings began and all the sudden you get up early. Not sure if the time change has anything to do with it, but you’re not going to bed any later than before so it doesn’t logically make any sense. I’ve always considered myself lucky for having a child that slept and napped so well. It seemed only fair that if you were gonna be a horrible eater that you would be a terrific sleeper. As of late, I’m not sure where that good sleeper went. You used to get up around 9am. The last few mornings you’ve gotten up at 7:30am. One morning you got up at 6:30am. You’re still napping one to two times a day. Some days you nap for two others, other days you nap for four. If we’re home, you’ll take a second nap for about an hour or two. If we’re out and about, you deal fine without the nap.
You’re still very attached to your blanket. It gets dragged around the house daily. It has a clone for when one it’s too dirty. We keep it’s clone a secret. You also like all your stuffed animals on your bed when you go to sleep. Ain’t nothing so sweet as coming into your room and watching you sleep curled up with your blanket in a sea of smurfs, clowns, and monsters.
Favorites: You love running. The pitter patter of your steps kills me. When your “na na” comes over, you have the best time chasing her around the house. You’re also still a fan of stupid Yo Gabba Gabba. I can’t wait until you have a concept of death so I can lie to you and convince you that all the characters have died. Maybe I should win you a gold fish at a carnival. Those die fast. Then we could have the whole lesson on death. Fortunately, you love books to so I do my best to offer to read to you instead of turning the TV on. It works sometimes. Other times you stalk me with the remotes in your hands until I give in to your annoying persistence. Other things you love include walking around the house with our shoes on, putting my bracelets on your wrist, pretending to swim in the bath, and candy (thanks a lot Halloween).
Hope everyone has a wonderful Thanksgiving! We’re cooking bacon with breakfast so I know it’s gonna be a good day! Cheers!
gingham hat (not vintage, actually from target!), c/o etsy seller Lishyloo // white tank, H&M Kids // orange courdory pants, Old Navy // toms, thrifted
Ignore the fact we both have rubber duckies in the photos above. Total coincidence. I always thought Hooper was a pretty good mix of both of us and based on the fact Van looks pretty dang similar to Hooper as a baby, I assume the same will be true for him. But after looking at our baby photos, I’m thinkin’ these boys look a lot more like their Papa. What do you think?
Toddlers are hard. There’s not denying it. They require a lot of attention and they’re hard to communicate with and they require discipline that they don’t yet understand. They are also the funnest (I know, not a word. Whatever, you grammar freaks), most entertaining wide eyed little sponges around. And how ’bout that toddler waddle that produces that pitter patter? I’ll never tire of that waddle or that pitter patter. Just the other day I confessed to Willy that I hope he always runs the way he does now… Like he’s stuck and can’t decide between breaking into the chicken dance or joining a marching band, resulting in an elbows out and knees high running waddle. I can’t get enough. Hooper, I love you with my whole heart.
I’m late on posting this, but what else is new. Your birthday is right around the corner…
Growth & Appearance: Your eyes appear hazel and while your hair is still blond as can be, I think it will turn brown in time. You’re wearing a size 7 shoe, size 4 diapers, size 3T pajamas, and size 2T clothing.
Talking: You have preferences now. Actually, I’m fairly certain you’ve always had them, but you can now communicate them. Or some of them, anyway. Here’s how our conversation went the other day in the bath:
Me: “Hooper, would you like to sit down in your bath?”
You: “Nooooo” (said so sweetly you could melt an ice cream cone)
Me: “You don’t like sitting down in your bath?”
You: “Nooooo”
Me: “How come?”
You: “Doo Daa… Hi-YEE!”
And that’s about the extent of it.
Your favorite word is “Hi-Yee” and you use it not only when you want to say hello to someone, but also when you’re in trouble and not sure what to say. There’s been several times we have taken you to the corner and scolded you only for you to look us dead in the eye and say “hi-yee”. I think it’s your go-to when you’re uncomfortable.
You’re saying a ton of two syllable words now. Our favorites include “pumm-mee” (pumpkin), “tra-tee” (tractor), “ta-tee” (tatoo), “da!” for motorcycle (I know, we’re confused too), and my most favorite of all: “bra-ba” for Barbara. You don’t know a Barbara, for the record. Again, you better pick up on our humor if you want to thrive in this family.
Before you go to bed, it’s become routine for your Papa to hold you and go through a series of new words you’ve been saying. It’s not for practice. This is purely for our own enjoyment. It goes a little something like this:
Papa: “Say bye”
You: “Bye-yee”
Papa: “Say pumpkin”
You: “pum-mee”
Papa: “Say Bananna”
You: “Bammmm-ma”
…and now…
Papa: “Say Barbara”
You: “Bra-ba”
I know, we’re weird. Welcome to the family.
Oh yes, you finally call Sarah by name. Only to call her by her nickname, “Gonlz” (which you pronounce “gone”, said like “cone” with a “g”). Never mind how she became known as “Gonlz”. What I will say is it’s a derivative of her prior nickname of “Sonlz”.
Feeding: I’m really making an effort to help you become more independent with your eating. I give you praise each time you use your utensils. It’s gotten a little bit better, but the improvement is so slow moving and mealtime, in general, takes forever. I’m eager for your two year check up so that I can confirm your weight is fine and I can relax and let you eat when you want at the speed you want. Though somehow I have a feeling I’ll still be a neurotic lunatic chasing you around with a spoonful of something.
Your favorite foods include the following: pesto chicken pasta, breaded chicken, bread, peas, kiwi, strawberries, cheese, chicken nuggets, mac n’ cheese, ground beef or turkey, and greek yogurt. You used to love scrambled eggs, but lately you’ve been doing this weird gag thing every time I give them to you.
I’m giving you breast milk again. Not to mistaken with breastfeeding. I have so much milk and I hate to waste a single drop, so I put whatever leftover milk I have into your bottle. One of these days I’m gonna slip it into your Papa’s glass too. Shh… don’t tell him.
Sleeping: If we are home for the day, you typically take two naps. The second one is much shorter than the first and sometimes we refer to it as “quiet time” instead of a nap because we can hear you in there rustling about the whole time. You’re sleeping nearly 12 hours at night (9:30pm to 9-ish am). You take your first nap around 10:30 or 11 am and wake up around 1:30ish pm. Then we put you down again around 5:30 and you rest for about an hour. If we’re out and about, you usually skip the second nap and pass out on the way home. You’re pretty adaptable and so long as you are entertained, you are not too grumpy even if you miss your nap.
Development: You love to give kisses. You kiss lots of inanimate objects. I caught you kissing the grapes I gave you as a snack. I’ve also heard you kissing your blanket during a nap. You have given kisses to the passing garbage truck, flowers in the yard, and mickey mouse on my shirt. You’re quite the lover these days. Van still gets more unsolicited kisses than anyone.
You are no longer shy. In fact, you say hello to everyone. We were leaving a restaurant the other day and you walked right up to a table and said hello to a little girl. She got down from her seat to say hello back. You gave her a hug goodbye and that was that.
We took our first road trip as a family this month and it went as smooth as possible. You’re very adaptable and easy going. You didn’t even mind sleeping in the little closet of our small room. You spent the long 6 hour drive watching the passing cars out the window, pointing out the trucks and motorcycles along the way. I hope you always stay this way, but I’m sure we’ll hit the “are we there yet?” blues at some point.
You love pointing. When you want to do something again, you raise your index finger up to your face like you just stumbled upon some bright idea and proclaim, “ghen” (again).
I still take you to your gym class, which you love now. You’ve fully come out of your shell and are the same madman there that you are at home.
Favorites: You still love your toy cars. Good thing you have a gazillion. You enjoying organizing them into piles or lines and then reorganizing them at a different location than before. You can almost always find at least seven cars on our sofa at any given time. You love coloring and like taking my writing pens out of the drawer and scribbling all over the paper at your little table. You also still love Gabba Gabba and insist on watching it daily. It’s a struggle for me. I’d much rather you play outside, but it keeps you entertained while I’m feeding you and I’m not sure how to get around that. I hate TV, I really do. Luckily, you do love going outdoors too. We’ve done a lot of fun things this month. You went to your first circus, which you loved. We went to the pumpkin patch and LA county fair. Also your first official road trip to San Francisco, where you went to the zoo. You’re a lucky little dude.
I love fairs and festivals. We went to the Ventura fair and had a blast. We tried the LA fair and swore, as in cussed our brains out, and then swore, as in promised, never to go back. The little pumpkin patch at Pierce College, now that is where it’s at. If you live locally, you must check it out. We’ve been twice already; once on the weekend and once mid-week. There is a $5 entrance fee on the weekends, but it’s free during the week. They have everything you would get at the county fairs minus the crowd and cost. I’m talking bumper boats, slides, mining for gold, pony rides, petting zoo, trampoline, moon bounces, hay rides, a carousel, corn maze, funnel cake, and the best strawberry lemonade in all the land to boot. I think we just started a yearly tradition. Looking forward to next year when Van can participate in the pumpkin picking. This year, he slept the whole time.
Side note: Today is the last day to enter Monday’s giveaway from Truly Sanctuary. You can enter by simply leaving a comment on Monday’s post. I will be announcing the winner on Monday.
I grew up with Casey, a yellow lab. I distinctly remember laying in the hallway of the home I grew up in cuddling that dog and starring lovingly into her eyes, proposing that if I never met “Mr. Right” that I could spend the rest of my life with her instead. And I remember this being a serious consideration. I never thought about the fact I’d outlive her, she was immortal in my mind and I was unable to imagine my life without her in it. That’s the thing about dogs, they become part of the family. And life is never as enjoyable without them. My parents just lost their dog, Sammy, so I apologize for the sappy point of view.
The other day I watched as Hooper and Sarah carried on with their normal shenanigans. I’ve been warned by my own readers of the day that’s sure to come where I will no longer be mom, but instead a referee between my two boys. I’ll have had some training, however, because Hooper and Sarah require me to wear that ridiculous black and white vertical (barf) striped shirt from time to time. Sarah has brought Hooper to tears on more than one occasion and not because of her physical force, but rather because she’s running with a ball (that has her DNA all over it) and Hooper wants it. If Sarah could cry (why don’t dogs cry?! Rhetorical question), she’d be in tears from all the slapping and pinching and food stealing she has to put up with. I’m pretty sure whatever feud they have going resolves itself at the dinner table, where Sarah happily licks every morsel off the floor (seriously her eyes are glued to the floor during mealtime. She doesn’t even bother looking up to watch it drop. She’d rather have her mouth ready and in position) and Hooper happily flings food he doesn’t care about anyway off his plate.
I think of the memories I had with Casey and now the memories Hooper’s making with Sarah and it warms my heart. These two… I tell ya… they really love each other. Maybe Hooper will want to marry Sarah one day too.
Last week it was still in the triple digits here in Southern California. I had already turned the calender page and welcomed October into our lives with hopes of fall joining the pumpkin party. Summer had other ideas and I’m not one to complain about the sun wanting to hang out a little while longer. So I packed up the boys and headed to the beach, in October, to properly thank summer for lingering around. I had the radio on and the Rolling Stone’s “Miss You”, one of my favs, blared through the speakers. I turned it up. Hoop bobbed his head in the back and I dedicated the jam to summer, knowing fall would be gracing us with it’s presence soon enough. It was a perfect day at the beach. A week later and it has cooled down to a comfortable 80 degrees. With a visit to the pumpkin patch in the near future, we’ll have to replay our wee little video to remind us of the last days of summer spent with sand between our toes and white water crashing at our ankles. Dear Summer, thanks for lingering.
I’m so undecided about how to celebrate Hooper’s birthday. I’m not sure whether to do a friends party and a family party or just a family party. I had the same debate last year and we opted to have a very small family gathering. There’s not a lot of time to schedule two parties as Thanksgiving is just after his birthday and combining friends with family makes for a bigger celebration than our little home could handle. So the debate continues…
What I’m not debating is what to get him for his birthday. We’re not generally into the filling the toy chest game, but there are a few things he’s shown interest in and a few things I like for him. Above are some things we’re contemplating buying the little guy for his big day. The teepee is at the top of my list… seriously, how cool is that thing?
Growth & Appearance: You had your first haircut. It was great. You look like a little boy, just as you did before minus the mullet. So before you were a redneck little boy and now you’re more of a gonna-go-surf-the-waves little boy. I like the latter much better.
You’ve just about grown out of your size 6 shoes and we’ve been on a mad hunt for a size 7, scouring the flea markets and thrift stores with no such luck thus far. Tell your feet to put growth on hold. Diapers are still size 4, clothing 2T with the exception of some shorts/pants that fall right off your little waist.
Feeding: You finally understand bribery, which has worked great with eating. I allow you to watch Yo Gabba Gabba so long as you eat, but if you refuse to eat, I turn the show off. It’s worked like a charm every time. I should mention, however, that it works on a bite by bite basis. This means I have to pause the show the get you to eat another bite. And then repeat. It would be much less tedious if you I only had to threaten one time and then you ate everything, but it doesn’t work like that. I’m not sure if this is the right thing to do, per say, but it works, so whatever. It’s made eating time much less of a battle and for what feels like the first time ever, there is some peace at the dinner table.
Still, in general, feeding you is nothing short of difficult. Anytime you have to resort to strategy, there is an underlying challenge. Feeding you is the challenge. It’s not even about getting the food simply in your mouth. Some times you take the bite with no problem and the food just sits there in your mouth. You forget to chew. Or you keep chewing but don’t swallow. I watched you sit with a single bite of cereal in your mouth the other morning while I simultaneously polished off my entire bowl. Then I had to coax you to chew and swallow… and that’s all for one stinking bite. Papa had to run to the store to pick up some fruit for a BBQ and when he returned, you had the same bite of food in your mouth as when he left. You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make him drink… or I can put food in your mouth but I can’t make you swallow. Same same, but different. Not a struggle, per say, to get the food in but talk about tedious and time consuming trying to get you to swallow. I should also note that you are fully capable of using utensils to eat but due to the struggles I’ve touched on, we end up spoon feeding you most of the time. Otherwise, it’d never get done.
When Auntie Kiki came to visit for the weekend, she restored my confidence in feeding you by pointing out how healthy you eat. Sometimes I just need a pat on the back to keep motivated. You do eat healthy, it’s just a struggle. And the struggle at the table leads to a general impatience on my part and the rest of the day kinda goes to shambles from there. On the days you eat good, I have a grin from ear to ear. You’re happy, I’m happy, the day goes smoothly. On the days where you are a pain in the butt, I’m frustrated, you act out, and the day ends with me needing a break. I hate that it seems to all be centered around food, but that’s the way it feels. We’ve both gotten better and the bad days seem to be fewer and further between ::fingers crossed::
Oh yes, I should mention (because I’m neurotic about documenting all the mundane things) that you still drink your milk out of a bottle. We give you watered down juice in a sippy cup at lunch and on occasion I’ll give you a small amount of water in a cup. You do fine with a cup, but the bottle is safest since it seems that I spend so much time breastfeeding your little brother that I’d be losing my mind watching you spill your milk all over the place when I couldn’t do anything about it. Then I’d be crying over spilt milk and, well, they say you shouldn’t do that.
Development: You are still an organizing fiend. In fact, there are five things we leave on your bed: a decorative pillow, a stuffed smurf, a stuffed clown, a stuffed raggedy Andy, and a vintage Dapper Dan doll. Almost every morning, I come into your room to find them neatly piled one on top of the other. We have named the stuffed smurf “Niles” and the stuffed clown “Jeff”, after your grandpas. Your Papa and I find this funny, get used to our humor.
You are coming out of your shell at your gym class, showing a bit more personality each time and dare I say actually enjoying the activities. You’ve gotten much better at hanging from the bar. Before, you’d turn into a limp noodle anytime I’d put your hands on the bar. You also do a better job at following instructions given to you by the instructor and when the instructor is showing a skill or telling a story, you actually listen and follow along. You can jump with two feet on the trampoline, but have yet to jump off an elevated surface with both feet at the same time.
You’re shy with most new people you meet, but a high five always breaks the ice. You have yet to refuse a high five. You love to laugh and are drawn to wherever the laughter is. Sometimes your Papa and I will be having an adult conversation in the front seat and laugh about something you wouldn’t understand anyway only to hear you giggling, or mimicking us, in the backseat. You love a good laugh and when you make someone laugh with your game of peek-a-boo or your wild shenanigans, you want to do it over and over and over and over. I can think of worse things to be addicted to, so keep laughter as your drug of choice. Oh my god, are we already talking about drugs? Stop. Get out. Don’t get another day older. You hear me?! I said STOP!
You’ve been a dancing machine as of late. You love the song, “Young, Wild, and Free” by Wiz Khalifa. We discovered this when it came on the radio on the way home and you started head banging to it. Your head banging, by the way, is a cross between A Night At the Roxbury and Snoopdogg, or Snoop Lion, or whatever.
Hitting and throwing has been a bigger issue than ever. We had a play date with a friend from high school and I swear I’m scared to call her after you whacked her super cute and ubber polite little boy on the head with a toy phone. Hard. I used to have some reservations about disciplining you and I used to have sympathy when Papa would scold you in the corner. Now I do not. It sucks to see another boy cry because you hit him. Now I take you to the corner faster than you can say skipidy doo, which in fact you can’t say at all, but do trust that I take you over to that corner at lightening speed. The other day I scolded you for hitting Sarah (we have a zero tolerance issue now) and you walked yourself to the corner. I died laughing (inside, of course). When you’re in the corner, you do this blatant stare off to the side refusing to make eye contact. Other times, you have no sense that we are punishing you and you look us straight in the eye and let out a big “hi-yee”. Either way, we get your attention and make you look us in the eye, we count to ten, we reiterate that you cannot hit and we end with walking you over to Sarah or Van or whoever your victim is and making you say “sorry”, which you say with a hug instead because, well, “S’s” are hard.
You won’t stop making noises by sticking your tongue out and blowing. This results in a ton of slobber all over your shirt. I’m considering going the bib route. I know you’re awake from your nap because I hear you making noise with your tongue in there. In other news of things you can do with your mouth, you now smile on command. You just don’t follow the command all the time. But, you don’t follow any command all the time… except for when Papa commands you to put your nose on things. You do that every time… like when we were out to breakfast the other morning and Papa instructed you to go put your nose on an old lady’s leg. You did, of course. Again, you should get used to our humor.
We’ve tried the potty a few times but haven’t pushed it. The other day I saw you get into the squat position to push a load out so I scooped you up and brought you over to the potty. Almost immediately a little nugget fell into the hat, but I quickly realized you had already pooped and that piece was a little pellet that had stuck to your butt and simply fell off when you sat down. Total fail. Oh well, one of these days you’ll get it.
Sleeping: I sense you are transitioning from two naps to one. This means you are slowly and more consistently refusing your second nap, then needing to go to bed early, sleeping in later, and taking your morning nap in the early afternoon. So your schedule seems to be shaping out to waking up around 9am, napping from 11-1 or 2pm, and going to bed around 8:30pm. But, being that it’s in a state of transition, this isn’t always the case. Some days you still take two naps. These are good days. You’re sleeping in your bed at night, but we still have you in your playpen for naps. I’m pretty sure you need to be held prisoner in order to take a nap.
Whatever the case may be, nap or no nap, bed or play pen, you always wake up happy. As soon as you see the door opening, you eagerly glance over and greet us with a bundle of “hi-yee’s” as if you thought you were never going to see us again. I dread when I hear you first wake up because it means I have to stop whatever mom chore or activity I’m doing, but as soon as my hand grabs hold of that knob I’m like Pavlov’s dogs and my whole body tingles with excitement. Every time I open that door I feel so loved. Thank you.
Talking: Your on the brink of a language explosion. You always seem to be saying something and the jibber gabber is at an all-time high. Your favorite word has been “hi-yee!”. You say it to all of us numerous times a day and by numerous I’m literally saying somewhere in the ballpark of 200x per day. Some days even more. We were on the car on the way to dinner and in the ten minutes it took us to get there, I counted six times you enthusiastically blurted out “hi-yee”. You love to get right in Van’s face to say it too. It doesn’t stop with your family, however, you also say “hi-yee” to your stuffed animals, the moon, the plants, and lots of other inanimate objects. I had a mickey mouse sweatshirt on and you said “hiyee” to mickey. You don’t even know who mickey is. You do a quickened version of “hi-yee” each time we go into your room after you wake up. It sounds like a chopped, “hi hi hi hi hi” in very fast succession.
You say the word “love”, only it sounds nothing like love. It sounds more like “va”. The only way we know you’re saying “love” is because you do this head nod every time you say it.
You also say flower (which comes out as “flow-nay” or “flawn”), again (“ghin”), and dog. You’re started to put some words together… You say, “Papa doo-doo” and “Papa si” (Papa sit… you’re so demanding). You’re also adding two syllable words to your vocabulary.
Your answer to how many anything is is always two, which you answer by putting two fingers up. Any question with the word color in it is still answered with “boo” (aka blue).
Favorites: Cars, cars, cars. Big ones, small ones, fast ones, slow ones. You are obsessed. You like lining them up. You like making them go “voom”. You like throwing them. You like carrying them. It’s been all. about. the. cars. You’re even smitten with Dr. Seuss’s “Go, Dog, Go!” because the dogs are riding in cars. Your more into books, in general, than ever before.
You love giving kisses. You kiss everything. At your gym class, you took the stuffed beanie babies out one at a time, kissed each one, and then lined them up thus combining your loves for organizing and giving kisses. I was coloring with you the other day and drew a flower on the paper. You proceeded to lean over the picture and give the flower a kiss. But I think your favorite thing to kiss is still your brother. Hands down, he gets the most unsolicited kisses.
You also love stickers. We can get you to do a lot of things, like allowing the hairdresser to cut your hair or even getting you to finish your food, with the promise of a sticker. You like tattoos too.
Tuesdays and Fridays are your version of our Saturdays and Sundays, aka the best days of the week. That’s because the gardeners come on Tuesday and the trash trucks come on Friday and, well, it’s the highlight of your week.
In Conclusion: Each month gets better and better. Your Papa and I look at each other in disbelief every.single.day. We’re eager for Van to reveal his personality as you’ve taught us that newborns have nothing on toddlers. Don’t get a big head though, we love your brother too. But seriously, you are so fun. I don’t want you to get another second older.
And now two bonus videos of your now infamous “grandfather” walk and an extra little boogie video too.
Side note: Thank you to everyone who voted yesterday for The Stork & The Beanstalk as the Top Baby Blog. I know at one point we were in the top ten, but I believe we’ve dropped since then. You can vote daily by clicking on the link below or the TBB icon on the right. Many, many thanks!!
I’ve been in such a state of peace lately. I really didn’t expect this. I expected chaos and resentment and exhaustion and all those other things that seem to occur when you bring a newborn into a home. But, as it turns out, becoming a mother for the second time has been a much smoother transition than the first time. I’ve been sitting on this realization for a while and have come to attribute it to two things:
First, my perspective is clearer. I have witnessed, firsthand (because lets face it, it means nothing coming from someone else), that time flies. What’s a challenge one week is non-apparent the next. Breastfeeding feels never-ending… then you wean… and a week later it feels like it’s been a year since you breastfed your child and you suddenly miss it a little. Sleepless nights seem to come and go too. What I’m getting at is the fact that it’s all temporary and I’m much more aware of that this time around.
The second has to do with role change. There is a dramatic change in roles following the birth of your first born. For me, I remember thinking parenting Hooper would be a team effort. And by team effort, I mean fifty fifty. It was hard for me to take on the role of primary caregiver and accept the realization that fifty fifty really equals ninety ten. I felt like I was constantly having to sit on my ass to breastfeed and it bothered me to have to sit on my ass while I stared at a sink full of dirty dishes, dust collecting on the floor, a dog that needed to be walked, and so on and so forth. While I had to organize my day with some sort of strategy just to fit a shower and three meals into my schedule, it seemed like Willy got to sit on the toilet forever just to shit. It all seemed unfair (As a side note, it had nothing to do with Hooper. I bonded and loved him instantly with ALL my heart… I’m just speaking on behalf of the role adjustment).
With the birth of our second, I’m already acquainted with my role. I’ve already accepted the challenge. I know my place, Willy knows his. We’ve learned from our struggles the first time around and the kinks we had to work out then are already worked out. I am the primary caregiver. I say that now with pride and excitement. Although, I must admit, I’m still jealous of the fact Willy still gets to sit on the toilet forever when I’m just lucky to wipe my ass just in time to intercept a toy car Hooper’s about to throw into the toilet. But, again, it’s temporary.
Realizing that it’s all temporary and having experience in the role of primary caregiver has made me more relaxed. Being more relaxed, in turn, has made for less arguments, less kinks to work out, and less anxiety in general. I remember trying to shove food in my mouth as fast as possible because Hooper would be crying while Willy and I tried to enjoy dinner. This time around, if Van is crying during dinner it reminds me that he’s alive and I close the door and finish my dinner.
What’s your experience in becoming a mother for the first or second or third time been like? Can you relate?
I finally convinced Willy that Hooper needs a haircut. I’m all for the long hair, but it has never been properly cut and it’s uneven and bordering on a mullet. So Willy agreed and we took him to our friend Angela for his first proper trim. The difference is perfectly subtle and we plan on letting it grow from here on out… until, well, it becomes unruly and un-handsome. I debated picking the little blond specks of hair up off the floor and pasting them to Van’s poor head, as he is currently battling newborn hair loss and resembles this character from the old “Guess Who” board game. Van’s hair loss makes my chances of keeping my postpartum locks rather ominous. Oh the joys of motherhood.
I digress. Hooper got a hair cut. It took a lot of stickers and a couple YouTube clips. In true Hooper fashion, he played peek-a-boo and shouted “hi-yee!” at the top of his lungs. Sure beats screams and tears. The first hair cut was a success.
As a side note, I’d like to thank everyone for their comments on yesterday’s post. I was touched by all your stories and opinions.
