Luke: Doddle.
Me: Doddle-doddle-da.
McMoose: Don't make fun of his attempts at communication.
Me: Um...I'm not. I'm communicating WITH him.
McM: "Doddle-doddle" is not a real word.
Me: True. But when S (my friend's baby who is no longer a baby but whom I talk about frequently because until now, he was my frame of reference for this kind of thing) was his age, he said doddle-doddle-da in...in...
McM: Incessantly?
Me: Yes. He said it incessantly. He also said "Bird" incessantly. Which Luke doesn't say yet, by the way.
McM: Luke says "bird." Luke has said "bird" since before he was born.
Me: Um. No. Luke sees a bird and says "cheep-cheep-cheep," which is entirely different from saying "bird." He does not say "bird." He has never said "bird."
Luke: Bird! Bird, bird, bird!
They're conspiring against me, don't you think?
Monday, September 27, 2010
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Waiting Game
Recently, I had reason to be in a room full of women who are pregnant with their first child. I gotta say, it didn't help the baby fever. At all.
Before having Luke, I was convinced that the second time around, it would be easy to be patient and wait for the right time because, after all, I'd have a small person around to distract me. And yes, he certainly does distract me. But now, I know.
I know the thrill of a positive pregnancy test, hearing the baby's heartbeat, feeling the first kicks, seeing the ultrasounds, meeting a brand new person, holding and rocking and feeding that new person for days and weeks and months. I know the craziness of waking up (multiple times) every night for sixteen months, the fear of holding a feverish baby at 3 in the morning, the frustration with a toddler who won't let you feed him his applesauce, but can't work the spoon well enough to feed himself yet. I know the absolute awesome-ness of watching this small person turn from a sleepy, blobby creature into an actual, you know, person. So, no. It is not easier to wait for the right time.
(Now is not the right time.)
Before having Luke, I was convinced that the second time around, it would be easy to be patient and wait for the right time because, after all, I'd have a small person around to distract me. And yes, he certainly does distract me. But now, I know.
I know the thrill of a positive pregnancy test, hearing the baby's heartbeat, feeling the first kicks, seeing the ultrasounds, meeting a brand new person, holding and rocking and feeding that new person for days and weeks and months. I know the craziness of waking up (multiple times) every night for sixteen months, the fear of holding a feverish baby at 3 in the morning, the frustration with a toddler who won't let you feed him his applesauce, but can't work the spoon well enough to feed himself yet. I know the absolute awesome-ness of watching this small person turn from a sleepy, blobby creature into an actual, you know, person. So, no. It is not easier to wait for the right time.
(Now is not the right time.)
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Webster's For Mamas
Luke has a lot of words. About 150, in fact. You'd think this would make it easier to communicate with him. Below are some examples of why you'd be wrong.
Me: Luke, where are my keys?
L: No-noooo. (Translation: I don't know.)
Me: Did you take them from the counter?
L: Es. (Translation: Yes.)
Me: So where are they now?
L: No-nooooo. Tada. (Translation: Toto)
Me: Toto does not have my keys.
L: Buck. (Translation: bucket.)
Me: What? I really don't think they're in a bucket. Where are they?
L: No-nooo.
After 5 more minutes of searching, I found the keys sitting in a bucket in the Dog's cage. Next time, I'll just listen to the kid in the first place.
- Deck-deck = necklace
- Wawa = flower
- Tar = car. And star. And, oddly enough, seashell.
- Tuck = truck. And duck.
- Tuck-tuck = Tick tock (his favorite book)
- Mama = Mama.
- Mamama = Vroom, vroom.
- Mamamama = Tumble Bumble (his other favorite book)
- Nya-nya = night-night. And Yannai (elephant in Tamil).
- Ah-dun = all done. And airplane.
- Shh = snake. And smoke. And anything with wavy lines on it.
Me: Luke, where are my keys?
L: No-noooo. (Translation: I don't know.)
Me: Did you take them from the counter?
L: Es. (Translation: Yes.)
Me: So where are they now?
L: No-nooooo. Tada. (Translation: Toto)
Me: Toto does not have my keys.
L: Buck. (Translation: bucket.)
Me: What? I really don't think they're in a bucket. Where are they?
L: No-nooo.
After 5 more minutes of searching, I found the keys sitting in a bucket in the Dog's cage. Next time, I'll just listen to the kid in the first place.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Things I've Learned Recently:
1. Beaches are fun. But not as much fun as camping. And also, slightly more stressful, what with all the giant waves and seagulls that try to conspire to steal your small child away from you.
2. My favorite word in Luke's vocabulary is "stuck." Because when he's playing in his room and randomly making noise, it helps to have a key word that I can listen for so I'll know the difference between when he's talking to his stuffed animals and when he has climbed up to the top of some piece of furniture and doesn't know how to get down. The downside is that "stuck" sounds a lot like "truck," which is a word he says approximately every 7.4 seconds, so we have a lot of false calls.
3. You know what's fun? Watching 2 toddlers chase each other around a piece of furniture.
4. You know what's not fun? When the "piece of furniture" is actually the (overdramatic) dog, who howls and whines because they're invading his personal bubble.
5. It is possible to get two sleeping toddlers out of their carseats and up to a third floor apartment at the same time (because obviously, leaving one in the car while taking the other up is not so much an option at an apartment complex) while keeping both asleep. However. One of them will invariably wake up while you're putting the other one in bed. In. Variably.
2. My favorite word in Luke's vocabulary is "stuck." Because when he's playing in his room and randomly making noise, it helps to have a key word that I can listen for so I'll know the difference between when he's talking to his stuffed animals and when he has climbed up to the top of some piece of furniture and doesn't know how to get down. The downside is that "stuck" sounds a lot like "truck," which is a word he says approximately every 7.4 seconds, so we have a lot of false calls.
3. You know what's fun? Watching 2 toddlers chase each other around a piece of furniture.
4. You know what's not fun? When the "piece of furniture" is actually the (overdramatic) dog, who howls and whines because they're invading his personal bubble.
5. It is possible to get two sleeping toddlers out of their carseats and up to a third floor apartment at the same time (because obviously, leaving one in the car while taking the other up is not so much an option at an apartment complex) while keeping both asleep. However. One of them will invariably wake up while you're putting the other one in bed. In. Variably.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Life Lesson No. 1: Hands To Yourself!
Dear Woman At The Playground:
I think it's great that you bring your grandkids to the playground every morning. I can tell that they enjoy being with you and that you enjoy spending time with them, too. I appreciate that you're involved in their play, pushing the swings and watching them come down the slide. Some of your actions might seem a little bit intrusive--does your 8-year-old grandson really need you to catch him at the bottom of the slide?--but then, they're your grandkids, not mine, and you know them and their needs far better than I do.
I do ask, however, that you accept that even though the children you're with might need or want that level of help, the children that I am with do not. Yes, I let two one-year-olds climb the stairs on the play structure by themselves. You will notice that the play structure? It's 3 feet off the ground. The very soft, very rubbery ground. And also? It has rails. Which they hold onto when they're unsure of their footing. You will also notice that not once during our one-hour stay did either of them fall off the stairs (or the play structure in general). So while I appreciate the level of caution you display with the children you brought, the next time you touch one of mine in an effort to "help," I might be forced to bite you.
P.S. Yes, I knew Other Baby was eating mulch. He does that. He'll spit it out once he's done with it.
P.P.S. Yes, I knew Luke was standing at the top of a 3-foot tall slide. He does that. And if you had just QUIT TRYING TO TOUCH HIM, he wouldn't have freaked out and danced around and almost fallen off the damn thing.
P.P.P.S. Stop. Calling. Me. "Dear."
I think it's great that you bring your grandkids to the playground every morning. I can tell that they enjoy being with you and that you enjoy spending time with them, too. I appreciate that you're involved in their play, pushing the swings and watching them come down the slide. Some of your actions might seem a little bit intrusive--does your 8-year-old grandson really need you to catch him at the bottom of the slide?--but then, they're your grandkids, not mine, and you know them and their needs far better than I do.
I do ask, however, that you accept that even though the children you're with might need or want that level of help, the children that I am with do not. Yes, I let two one-year-olds climb the stairs on the play structure by themselves. You will notice that the play structure? It's 3 feet off the ground. The very soft, very rubbery ground. And also? It has rails. Which they hold onto when they're unsure of their footing. You will also notice that not once during our one-hour stay did either of them fall off the stairs (or the play structure in general). So while I appreciate the level of caution you display with the children you brought, the next time you touch one of mine in an effort to "help," I might be forced to bite you.
P.S. Yes, I knew Other Baby was eating mulch. He does that. He'll spit it out once he's done with it.
P.P.S. Yes, I knew Luke was standing at the top of a 3-foot tall slide. He does that. And if you had just QUIT TRYING TO TOUCH HIM, he wouldn't have freaked out and danced around and almost fallen off the damn thing.
P.P.P.S. Stop. Calling. Me. "Dear."
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Running Wild
For as long as I've known McMoose, he has been talking about camping and hiking and kayaking and all manner of outdoorsy things that gave me hives just to think about. I did go hiking with him once or twice, but there were always snakes curled up near the trails that we chose and I don't care how much McMoose swears the snake isn't poisonous, the fact is that it's a snake. And it has a mouth. And probably teeth. So if it bit me, I might not die, but I WOULD STILL HAVE BEEN BITTEN. BY A SNAKE.
(Feel free to substitute the word "snake" in the prior paragraph with the words "bee," "wasp," "hornet," "yellowjacket," "spider," "bear," "cougar," or pretty much any other wild, toothed creature, and you'll get a general idea of how I feel about the wilderness.)
But of course, now there's a kid. And kids, they like camping. And especially since we don't have any kind of outdoor space (except our balcony, which is off limits to the kid because of the presence of wasps and a compost bucket), I've been forcing myself to go do outdoorsy things.
We started slow. We took short, paved trails. We went on picnics near lakes. We went to inland beaches where we actually got into the lake water, which totally icked me out. And then, we took the big leap. Last weekend, we went camping.
And, uh, it was kind of awesome. I mean, minus the yellowjackets and the spiders, which were not cool. (Luke disagrees with me on this point. He got to hold a GIANT spider, which made his day and made me age a few years, but whatever.) But the rest of it--the living in a tent, walking around the campgrounds, sitting by the fire, watching people kayak down a river--all that stuff kind of rocked. Who knew!
(Feel free to substitute the word "snake" in the prior paragraph with the words "bee," "wasp," "hornet," "yellowjacket," "spider," "bear," "cougar," or pretty much any other wild, toothed creature, and you'll get a general idea of how I feel about the wilderness.)
But of course, now there's a kid. And kids, they like camping. And especially since we don't have any kind of outdoor space (except our balcony, which is off limits to the kid because of the presence of wasps and a compost bucket), I've been forcing myself to go do outdoorsy things.
We started slow. We took short, paved trails. We went on picnics near lakes. We went to inland beaches where we actually got into the lake water, which totally icked me out. And then, we took the big leap. Last weekend, we went camping.
And, uh, it was kind of awesome. I mean, minus the yellowjackets and the spiders, which were not cool. (Luke disagrees with me on this point. He got to hold a GIANT spider, which made his day and made me age a few years, but whatever.) But the rest of it--the living in a tent, walking around the campgrounds, sitting by the fire, watching people kayak down a river--all that stuff kind of rocked. Who knew!
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Peace
There is a drool spot at my knee. For the past couple of months, in fact, drool spots have appeared at my knees and my belly, my shoulder and my arms. No, I have not developed an alarming medical condition. What I have done is move my child out of his crib and into a toddler bed. And opportunistic little thing that he is, he's taken this to mean that instead of lying in his bed and being patted to sleep, he should be lying ON TOP OF ME to some degree or another.
Before I had this child, I wanted the kind of baby who would fall asleep at 7:30 every night in his bed by himself and stay asleep until 8 the next morning. Can I just say how glad I am that I didn't get that baby?
I love that he falls asleep on top of me. I love that I can think back to when he was small enough to fit in the crook of one arm. I love comparing that to how big he is now, sprawling over my entire torso with his head on my shoulders and his feet on the ground while I sit on a beanbag chair and read a book. I love that I can sniff his sweet, baby hair while he chatters to himself and then quiets, sighs, and drifts off into sleep. I love that I have at least an hour built into my day when I can sit and read and be quiet and still and not feel guilty that I'm neglecting the laundry or the vacuuming. And regardless of how anxious or agitated or impatient I might be going into this falling-asleep ritual, at the end of it, I'm relaxed and calm and at peace.
I know I didn't get what I wanted, but as it turns out, I got exactly what I needed.
Before I had this child, I wanted the kind of baby who would fall asleep at 7:30 every night in his bed by himself and stay asleep until 8 the next morning. Can I just say how glad I am that I didn't get that baby?
I love that he falls asleep on top of me. I love that I can think back to when he was small enough to fit in the crook of one arm. I love comparing that to how big he is now, sprawling over my entire torso with his head on my shoulders and his feet on the ground while I sit on a beanbag chair and read a book. I love that I can sniff his sweet, baby hair while he chatters to himself and then quiets, sighs, and drifts off into sleep. I love that I have at least an hour built into my day when I can sit and read and be quiet and still and not feel guilty that I'm neglecting the laundry or the vacuuming. And regardless of how anxious or agitated or impatient I might be going into this falling-asleep ritual, at the end of it, I'm relaxed and calm and at peace.
I know I didn't get what I wanted, but as it turns out, I got exactly what I needed.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)