E's officially eighteen months as of today. A few months ago at his well check, the doctor suggested picking five rules and sticking to them. He said we wouldn't have the energy to consistently enforce more than five. I thought it was good advice, but couldn't come up with the five. We didn't have any rules yet, other than not going in the street. E didn't seem to understand enough to follow rules or deliberately act out. He was still a baby in many ways. But suddenly, we're in new territory. It's happened gradually, really, but this past week seems to have introduced a new era of intentional boundary pushing. We find ourselves enforcing lots of boundaries, over and over and over and over again. Many of the rules involve throwing, which results in the item being taken away: cups, food, blocks, puzzle pieces. Also: no pulling cds from the shelves and throwing them on the floor (this has been the biggie lately, and it's not like we can take the cd towers away). No standing on the couch downstairs (not safe with the wood floor); couches are for sitting. No standing in the high chair. No opening the dishwasher and climbing in (we haven't found a lock that works on ours). No climbing out of the bathtub during bath. I'm sure there are others I'm leaving out. Every time I look away, he's running for the cds, etc. Of course, this is his job right now, and ours is to be consistent. But wow. I can see why the doc advised a limit of five rules. How to keep it to five, though?
We've also seen the emergence of tantrums--real tantrums that involve collapsing on the ground and kicking and screaming and rolling around. But they're not as crazy as they could be or will be. There's definitely still room to grow there. But the poor guy, he gets so upset over the tiniest things. Sometimes my heart breaks for him and sometimes I have to turn away so he doesn't see me laughing.
Showing posts with label development. Show all posts
Showing posts with label development. Show all posts
Monday, March 30, 2009
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Long Time No Blog
I don't think I've ever gone this long without blogging. Sorry. There are several reasons. One of them has to do with fatigue, which leads me to some news that I've decided to go ahead and post on here: I'm pregnant! We're winding up the ninth week. I've had two ultrasounds so far, one just this past Thursday, and everything looks good, so fingers crossed that the next month continues to go smoothly.
I've been much sicker this time. No puking, but nauseous and grossed out by most food. And just so, so tired. The week before last was incredibly difficult. TJ was gone all week, E didn't sleep well and was up at 5:30 almost every day, and I had my first encounter with hives. It was miserable. This past week was much better, and I slowly started to catch up on housework and emails, though I've realized that I just can't spend as much time online as I have in the past. I also finally got two nights of good sleep. I haven't been sleeping well, in part because of some problems I'm having with a couple of close friends. It's been extremely upsetting, especially a situation surrounding E's preschool enrollment in the fall. I don't know what's going to happen with that, and it's been stressful. There are very few good two-day toddler programs in Austin, and while we have a spot in one, the issues with my friends have necessitated (in my opinion, anyway) trying to find another preschool, which looks to be a losing battle. I'm at a loss. E has to be enrolled somewhere in the fall, for his sake as much as mine.
Speaking of E, he's a little pistol these days. He's saying lots of new words, and he's doing a good bit of screaming and whining as well. It's been hard to satisfy him lately. We've been working on getting him to stop throwing his food and cups. It feels like our efforts are utterly futile, but I guess he'll get it over time. He's been dancing more than ever (he loves his little musical table), and is obsessed with climbing on anything and everything. As usual, he would spend all day outside if he could, with as many balls as he can carry. We just got a sand and water table for him, and I can't wait to set it up in our otherwise barren backyard. The past few days have been cold and rainy here, which has been wonderful overall, but hard for little guys who get bored cooped up inside. I can't believe he'll be eighteen months old in two weeks. That seems like such a milestone.
And speaking of milestones, it appears that E is now weaned. I'm going to write a separate post on this . . .
I've been much sicker this time. No puking, but nauseous and grossed out by most food. And just so, so tired. The week before last was incredibly difficult. TJ was gone all week, E didn't sleep well and was up at 5:30 almost every day, and I had my first encounter with hives. It was miserable. This past week was much better, and I slowly started to catch up on housework and emails, though I've realized that I just can't spend as much time online as I have in the past. I also finally got two nights of good sleep. I haven't been sleeping well, in part because of some problems I'm having with a couple of close friends. It's been extremely upsetting, especially a situation surrounding E's preschool enrollment in the fall. I don't know what's going to happen with that, and it's been stressful. There are very few good two-day toddler programs in Austin, and while we have a spot in one, the issues with my friends have necessitated (in my opinion, anyway) trying to find another preschool, which looks to be a losing battle. I'm at a loss. E has to be enrolled somewhere in the fall, for his sake as much as mine.
Speaking of E, he's a little pistol these days. He's saying lots of new words, and he's doing a good bit of screaming and whining as well. It's been hard to satisfy him lately. We've been working on getting him to stop throwing his food and cups. It feels like our efforts are utterly futile, but I guess he'll get it over time. He's been dancing more than ever (he loves his little musical table), and is obsessed with climbing on anything and everything. As usual, he would spend all day outside if he could, with as many balls as he can carry. We just got a sand and water table for him, and I can't wait to set it up in our otherwise barren backyard. The past few days have been cold and rainy here, which has been wonderful overall, but hard for little guys who get bored cooped up inside. I can't believe he'll be eighteen months old in two weeks. That seems like such a milestone.
And speaking of milestones, it appears that E is now weaned. I'm going to write a separate post on this . . .
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Words, Balls, and Shape Sorting
We seem to spend most of our time with E these days laughing. I know this is just the merest taste of what it will be like when he's really starting to talk, but where we are now is so delightful. Everything he does is funny and/or unbearably cute (okay, except when he throws his cup). Yesterday he brought a record six balls outside on our afternoon walk. He carried two to the front doorway, tossed each one into the yard in front of him (while still standing inside the house), then ran back into the living room to get two more. Repeat. This was after he woke up from his nap and stood at the gate at the top of the stairs saying, "Ssss, ssss, ssssiiiiiide, buh, buh, buh!" in other words, "I want to get the balls and go outside." It was the first time he's expressed something using two words.
Once we get outside every afternoon, he surveys the many balls that lay scattered across the lawn. He's like a king contemplating his dominion. He then chooses one or two and we start the walk, throwing and kicking the balls ahead of us and then running after them. He's great at throwing, and at bending over and batting the balls, and TJ has taught him how to kick, though he doesn't kick them as often. My goal on these walks (aside from keeping him from going in the street or up to a neighbor's house) is to keep the balls from going into the storm drains. Anytime one of the balls escapes (roughly fifty times per walk), I run into the street like a maniac to catch it before it's lost. We've lost many, many balls.
The word he says most clearly, and most often, is "kitty." He adores Squeaky and also identifies cats in books and anywhere else. One day he was staring at the side of the fridge saying, "kiddy, kiddy, kiddy, kiddy," and we realized that he was looking at a magnet we have that has a cat on it. Each time something like this happens, it's thrilling for us and we get all goofy with excitement.
Yesterday we were reading his book about colors (over and over and over) and he kept pointing to the green apple. I'd say "apple" and he'd look at me with this smile that seemed to mean, "I know what it is and I want to say it but I don't know how." Then he said, "aaaaaaaa." We went through this several times, me saying "apple" and him saying "aaaaaaa." He couldn't figure out the second syllable, but he knows it's there and wants to say it.
Today I told him that we were going to see a baby this morning, and he smiled that same smile. I said, "Can you say 'baby'?" He smiled and said tentatively, "buh-buh."
His word for TJ is "Dat." He loves his Dat.
He doesn't spend much time stacking blocks anymore. His main obsession now is the shape shorter. He can't do it by himself, but wants to do it all the time, which can get tedious, to say the least.
He spends time each day quietly looking at books by himself, turning the pages, staring and staring at the pictures. I love watching him do this when he doesn't know I'm watching.
I'll end this here, but may add to it later . . .
Once we get outside every afternoon, he surveys the many balls that lay scattered across the lawn. He's like a king contemplating his dominion. He then chooses one or two and we start the walk, throwing and kicking the balls ahead of us and then running after them. He's great at throwing, and at bending over and batting the balls, and TJ has taught him how to kick, though he doesn't kick them as often. My goal on these walks (aside from keeping him from going in the street or up to a neighbor's house) is to keep the balls from going into the storm drains. Anytime one of the balls escapes (roughly fifty times per walk), I run into the street like a maniac to catch it before it's lost. We've lost many, many balls.
The word he says most clearly, and most often, is "kitty." He adores Squeaky and also identifies cats in books and anywhere else. One day he was staring at the side of the fridge saying, "kiddy, kiddy, kiddy, kiddy," and we realized that he was looking at a magnet we have that has a cat on it. Each time something like this happens, it's thrilling for us and we get all goofy with excitement.
Yesterday we were reading his book about colors (over and over and over) and he kept pointing to the green apple. I'd say "apple" and he'd look at me with this smile that seemed to mean, "I know what it is and I want to say it but I don't know how." Then he said, "aaaaaaaa." We went through this several times, me saying "apple" and him saying "aaaaaaa." He couldn't figure out the second syllable, but he knows it's there and wants to say it.
Today I told him that we were going to see a baby this morning, and he smiled that same smile. I said, "Can you say 'baby'?" He smiled and said tentatively, "buh-buh."
His word for TJ is "Dat." He loves his Dat.
He doesn't spend much time stacking blocks anymore. His main obsession now is the shape shorter. He can't do it by himself, but wants to do it all the time, which can get tedious, to say the least.
He spends time each day quietly looking at books by himself, turning the pages, staring and staring at the pictures. I love watching him do this when he doesn't know I'm watching.
I'll end this here, but may add to it later . . .
Saturday, January 3, 2009
The first Saturday of 2009
I've been in a sort of manic tizzy the past couple of days. In love with E, in love with TJ, wanting to clean and rearrange our house, decorate, landscape the backyard, make resolutions, exercise and meditate, have another baby, buy a whole new wardrobe, get a haircut, write thank-yous, just plain write, make various appointments, cook healthy food, put away holidays decorations, finish E's baby album, learn how to use our new camera, go on a diet, eat obsessively. I don't know what's gotten into me.
Squeaky came home on Wednesday. They hadn't been able to get her to eat (other than through a syringe), but she started to eat once she was home. No more vomiting, and no diagnosis as to what made her so sick in the first place. The emergency vet recommends we get an abdominal ultrasound, but we're going to wait on that as long as she seems fine. It was a very expensive vet bill, but our Squeak is back. She's been extra snuggly and attached. She may have a UTI; we're still waiting for the results of her culture.
Here she is, shortly after coming home.
We went to my parents' house in San Antonio on Monday morning and came back late Wednesday afternoon. We had a nice visit, and E especially had a blast playing in the backyard with Grandma and Pops. He's been a basketcase since then (starting with the last day we were there, when he woke up at 4:00 a.m. and never went back down). Teething is such a bitch. There is nothing I wouldn't give him at times like this, but he wants things that he simply can't have, like a carton full of milk without the top on. When he sees me return the milk to the fridge, he becomes completely hysterical and can't be soothed. The only thing that comforts him (aside from the ultimate: nursing) is going outside. It's his new thing. He says, "Sss, ssss, sss" for "outside." I took him out Friday morning and he ended up falling on the sidewalk and scraping his cheek and the tender skin between his upper lip and nose. It was pitiful, especially because he has a runny nose and the neverending river of snot was flowing right over the scraped skin, and I had to keep wiping it. I ended up nursing him after that because he was just beside himself.
There is so much I could say about our time in San Antonio, not to mention our PA trip, but I doubt I'll get a chance.
I'm working on moving this blog over to Wordpress, by the way. I'm excited about the change.
Well, E's up, which means it's time for us to leave for Wimberley to see my grandmother . . .
Squeaky came home on Wednesday. They hadn't been able to get her to eat (other than through a syringe), but she started to eat once she was home. No more vomiting, and no diagnosis as to what made her so sick in the first place. The emergency vet recommends we get an abdominal ultrasound, but we're going to wait on that as long as she seems fine. It was a very expensive vet bill, but our Squeak is back. She's been extra snuggly and attached. She may have a UTI; we're still waiting for the results of her culture.
Here she is, shortly after coming home.
We went to my parents' house in San Antonio on Monday morning and came back late Wednesday afternoon. We had a nice visit, and E especially had a blast playing in the backyard with Grandma and Pops. He's been a basketcase since then (starting with the last day we were there, when he woke up at 4:00 a.m. and never went back down). Teething is such a bitch. There is nothing I wouldn't give him at times like this, but he wants things that he simply can't have, like a carton full of milk without the top on. When he sees me return the milk to the fridge, he becomes completely hysterical and can't be soothed. The only thing that comforts him (aside from the ultimate: nursing) is going outside. It's his new thing. He says, "Sss, ssss, sss" for "outside." I took him out Friday morning and he ended up falling on the sidewalk and scraping his cheek and the tender skin between his upper lip and nose. It was pitiful, especially because he has a runny nose and the neverending river of snot was flowing right over the scraped skin, and I had to keep wiping it. I ended up nursing him after that because he was just beside himself.
There is so much I could say about our time in San Antonio, not to mention our PA trip, but I doubt I'll get a chance.
I'm working on moving this blog over to Wordpress, by the way. I'm excited about the change.
Well, E's up, which means it's time for us to leave for Wimberley to see my grandmother . . .
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Sixth Tooth, Hanging with Renee, "Dada"
Eamon has a sixth tooth in and we didn't even know it. TJ spotted it this morning; it's in the back on the bottom. Not completely in yet, but not brand-new, either. I think he's working on another (or more) right now as well, though his nighttime sleep hasn't been interrupted, thankfully. He's a champ.
This afternoon we're taking him over to Shannon's mom's house and she's going to babysit him while we go to a movie (or do some Christmas shopping, depending on how things time out). We've never left him in a situation quite like this before--in a new place with someone he's not familiar with, so we'll see how it goes. Renee (Shannon's mom) seemed to really want to babysit him, which is how this came about. I suspect he'll be fine, especially because she has a little white dog named Lola who he's going to LOVE, and because Renee will be very attentive to him. I just hope he does well and doesn't get upset.
He's added "Dada" to his repertoire in the past few days and clearly understands what it means, though he doesn't have complete control over it yet. "Dada" joins "ball" and "ga-ga," which originally meant "Gracie" (Shannon and Catherine's dog) but has now apparently come to signify all animals, including Squeaky.
This afternoon we're taking him over to Shannon's mom's house and she's going to babysit him while we go to a movie (or do some Christmas shopping, depending on how things time out). We've never left him in a situation quite like this before--in a new place with someone he's not familiar with, so we'll see how it goes. Renee (Shannon's mom) seemed to really want to babysit him, which is how this came about. I suspect he'll be fine, especially because she has a little white dog named Lola who he's going to LOVE, and because Renee will be very attentive to him. I just hope he does well and doesn't get upset.
He's added "Dada" to his repertoire in the past few days and clearly understands what it means, though he doesn't have complete control over it yet. "Dada" joins "ball" and "ga-ga," which originally meant "Gracie" (Shannon and Catherine's dog) but has now apparently come to signify all animals, including Squeaky.
Monday, November 10, 2008
This and That
We stayed at Catherine and Shannon's house for three nights last week, including election night. It sure was nice to have their company. Catherine cooked dinner for us all and Eamon got a chance to spend time with his beloved aunties and their dog, Gracie, who he's nuts for. E did wonderfully at night--he slept through and never woke before 6:00, even with the time change. I was in a funk for much of the week, but grateful to be spending time with my bffs.
Catherine took this picture of us at Zilker Park last Wednesday afternoon.
We picked TJ up at the airport Friday evening, oh happy day. What a relief to have him home. I finally slept well that night.
On Saturday evening I drove to San Antonio to have dinner with two of my college English professors, who were in town for a conference. They were the same as ever, brilliant and kind and unique and beautiful. I hadn't seen either of them in years, and I've been doing a lot of thinking since then.
Saturday afternoon TJ and E went to check the mail (we have a neighborhood bank of mailboxes around the corner), and TJ accidentally left his keys on top of the mailboxes. Some guy we've never met found them and apparently deduced which house was ours by the types of car keys on the key ring. At 6:30 on Sunday morning, he rang the doorbell (which we didn't hear) and then came into our house while we slept to return the keys. Um, creepy! He left them on the floor in an envelope with a very odd note. At my insistence, we have since had the locks changed and an alarm system installed. Better to be safe than sorry. And it will give me peace of mind when TJ's away, as he will be in two weeks.
On Sunday, Catherine and Shannon came over and babysat E while TJ and I had brunch at the Eastside Cafe (using a gift certificate they'd given us for E's birthday to celebrate our first year as parents--aren't they the best?).
What else . . .
We've had some difficulty with co-op the past couple of weeks, but hopefully things will be better from here on out.
Seems like I had a lot more to catch up on, but I think I'll leave it at this for now. This week has been busy, and my to-do list is seemingly neverending. That time of year, I think.
p.s. I'm completely, madly, desperately in love with my son right now. I don't know if I've mentioned on here that recently I was bemoaning the fact that he's not a cuddler, but in any case, he's been proving me wrong the past few weeks. Snuggly guy. Full of love. Can't get enough (me, that is). I remember wishing I could bottle him up at seven months, but this age kicks ass, even with the emerging tantrums and food throwing and infinitely soft, infinitely stinky poos. He's walking, he's starting to talk, he's discovering, he's expressing himself, he's responding to language, he's sleeping well. I can hardly believe this little guy is real.
I should also probably mention that the stuff with my family is resolved, or as resolved as it can be, and we're all moving forward as best we can. I think we'll be seeing my parents sometime soon. They are desperate to see E (they've yet to see him walk), and I want him to see his Grandma and Pops as well.
Catherine took this picture of us at Zilker Park last Wednesday afternoon.
We picked TJ up at the airport Friday evening, oh happy day. What a relief to have him home. I finally slept well that night.
On Saturday evening I drove to San Antonio to have dinner with two of my college English professors, who were in town for a conference. They were the same as ever, brilliant and kind and unique and beautiful. I hadn't seen either of them in years, and I've been doing a lot of thinking since then.
Saturday afternoon TJ and E went to check the mail (we have a neighborhood bank of mailboxes around the corner), and TJ accidentally left his keys on top of the mailboxes. Some guy we've never met found them and apparently deduced which house was ours by the types of car keys on the key ring. At 6:30 on Sunday morning, he rang the doorbell (which we didn't hear) and then came into our house while we slept to return the keys. Um, creepy! He left them on the floor in an envelope with a very odd note. At my insistence, we have since had the locks changed and an alarm system installed. Better to be safe than sorry. And it will give me peace of mind when TJ's away, as he will be in two weeks.
On Sunday, Catherine and Shannon came over and babysat E while TJ and I had brunch at the Eastside Cafe (using a gift certificate they'd given us for E's birthday to celebrate our first year as parents--aren't they the best?).
What else . . .
We've had some difficulty with co-op the past couple of weeks, but hopefully things will be better from here on out.
Seems like I had a lot more to catch up on, but I think I'll leave it at this for now. This week has been busy, and my to-do list is seemingly neverending. That time of year, I think.
p.s. I'm completely, madly, desperately in love with my son right now. I don't know if I've mentioned on here that recently I was bemoaning the fact that he's not a cuddler, but in any case, he's been proving me wrong the past few weeks. Snuggly guy. Full of love. Can't get enough (me, that is). I remember wishing I could bottle him up at seven months, but this age kicks ass, even with the emerging tantrums and food throwing and infinitely soft, infinitely stinky poos. He's walking, he's starting to talk, he's discovering, he's expressing himself, he's responding to language, he's sleeping well. I can hardly believe this little guy is real.
I should also probably mention that the stuff with my family is resolved, or as resolved as it can be, and we're all moving forward as best we can. I think we'll be seeing my parents sometime soon. They are desperate to see E (they've yet to see him walk), and I want him to see his Grandma and Pops as well.
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