Going to bed at 1:30 = possibility of 6 hours of sleep. Not great, but livable.
Discovering soaked wet crib sheets, and needing to change F's bed, clothes, and diaper, wipe her down, and nurse her back to sleep = possibility of 5.5 hours of sleep.
Being woken by Sam at 6:45 because his teacher said they need to be there early today and his body somehow figured that meant getting up extra early; his talking and flopping around waking F. up as a result; 2 awake kids 45 minutes before the alarm went off = 4.25 hours of sleep.
Not holding a grudge against a 5-year-old who just got up because he was awake = really really hard.
Friday, May 21, 2010
Thursday, May 20, 2010
life
In the car, today (see! I had the pen and paper handy!)
Sam: What are insectologists called again?
me: Entomologists.
Sam: Right. I want to be an entomologist, not a paleontologist.
me: Great!
Sam: I like life better than bones. Because I like colors.
And two nights ago, while I was putting him to bed:
Sam: Sometimes when I’m awake I see things on the walls like I’m dreaming. Like I see monsters.
me: Yeah, I think sometimes we all imagine scary things when we’re awake. But when you’re awake you can think about other stuff to make yourself stop seeing the scary things.
Sam: One time I thought about monsters and you know what I thought about that made them go away? fruit!
me: fruit?
Sam: Yeah, watermelon… and apples… and oranges. And grapes and figs.
me: mm, figs are good.
Sam: I’ve never had figs.
Sam: What are insectologists called again?
me: Entomologists.
Sam: Right. I want to be an entomologist, not a paleontologist.
me: Great!
Sam: I like life better than bones. Because I like colors.
And two nights ago, while I was putting him to bed:
Sam: Sometimes when I’m awake I see things on the walls like I’m dreaming. Like I see monsters.
me: Yeah, I think sometimes we all imagine scary things when we’re awake. But when you’re awake you can think about other stuff to make yourself stop seeing the scary things.
Sam: One time I thought about monsters and you know what I thought about that made them go away? fruit!
me: fruit?
Sam: Yeah, watermelon… and apples… and oranges. And grapes and figs.
me: mm, figs are good.
Sam: I’ve never had figs.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
lots of pics of 9-month-old Bean
... because she is so cute. Not that Sam isn't.
These days she pulls up to standing on everything, including her old bouncy seat (donated shortly after this picture was taken):
(Sam could not stay out of the frame for more than one picture.)
She walks, with help:
(isn't this outfit adorable? it was a gift from one of my mentors and his family. Sam calls her (Frida, that is) Mrs. Cow when she's wearing it. they're butterflies, in case it's not clear)
She crawls with no help:
And still thinks Sam is the awesomest thing ever:
And she often insists on feeding herself. Avocado and wetted-for-softening O cereal, here (the cheese was already gone). Anything uneaten on the tray gets pounded to a pulp with some enthusiastic sippy-cup whamming.
(Yes, I'm aware that food-covered babies on kid blogs are a cliche.) She's just started signing "all done" when she wants out of her high chair, though she'll often eat more within minutes. So we're offering food frequently, because she's at the 10th percentile for weight (as of her 9-month visit; 50th for length). Brainstorming fatty stuff that's baby friendly: cheese, avocado, salmon, full-fat yogurt, fat-soaked chicken bits... She eats, she would just rather be doing other stuff. Like standing--which she also insisted on doing in the bath last night. It's tricky bathing a slippery little standing Bean. Or yanking books off the shelf, ripping small pieces off of their covers, and eating said pieces. J's traveling every other week between now and the end of June. This should be interesting... two more baby gates are on order, to protect shoes and paperback book covers from Frida, and vice versa, so that I can turn my back for more than a minute at a time. For now if I'm cooking or showering she sits in the booster seat, either with food or with toys on the tray.
Sam update:
Sam's conversational skills seem to have made a leap recently. The other day on the way to school/work he was asking J. about J's work: "How do you divide your time between teaching and studying?" In that same conversation he recalled, from another convo with me weeks ago, the kinds of experiments we do, explaining that if you have one group of people and you tell them one thing, and then you have another group of people whom you tell something different, you then ask both groups to do the same thing, and watch to see if they do it differently... I was really surprised that he remembered that conversation at all, but he appears to have understood the idea of behavioral research. I never seem to have paper and pen, or even the handy little digital voice recorder my father gave me, handy when he's coming up with these insights, or to document his burgeoning vocabulary... will have to get better about that. It's fun, though. He's good company in general these days, though he has a hard time sticking to rules sometimes (e.g., he keeps trying to put Frida places she shouldn't be without an adult, like on the couch; he points out, correctly, that she likes it, and he's watching her carefully, but that doesn't mean it's ok, and I've had to re-emphasize this two or three times this weekend alone). But he can also be remarkably patient. Yesterday, after an early afternoon spent at Drumlin Farm hiking and looking at the animals and just enjoying the late-spring weather, Frida fell asleep in the car on the way home. When we got home, I ran in (leaving Sam to watch F. in the car, and then we had a snack on the front steps, next to the open-window'd car. After a bit, F. still miraculously sleeping, we headed to the park, but when we arrived she was still asleep. Moving the carseat wakes her up pronto, so we hung out in the car for a half hour (!) until she woke up on her own, first playing a few rounds of 20 questions, then writing on a handy piece of paper with a pen (see, I'm trying!) that I had in the car. He spelled out P-O-O-P and P-E and F-R-T (I corrected the latter two). Bathroom words are not allowed at school but we have no problem with them at home, which I am hoping means they will lose their allure sooner than later (but in the meantime, honestly, I am not bothered by them... interestingly, unlike friends of ours with small children similarly titillated by all things scatological). So we had a nice little bonding time, and I was very impressed by his patience, and then he climbed the big web at the park for the next 45 minutes.
Gratitude, more generally
On Friday I was reflecting on some of the awesome people we have in our lives, and feeling especially grateful for the two people who have most helped care for Sam and Frida this past academic year, both of whom feel have come to feel like younger cousins or even (in the latter case) sisters to me. Sam's old babysitter Karla picked him up from school for an end-of-semester (hers, that is) outing-- she wanted to see him once more before going home for the summer, so arranged to hang out for the afternoon. Karla emails me funny links (e.g., hot guys reading books), and forwards me petitions to sign; I look forward to watching her become ever more fabulous in the world. I have also been thinking a lot about our lovely, lovely nanny Stephanie, and how much we will miss her next year. She's totally on our wavelength in so many ways, is like a second mom to Frida and a good friend and teacher to Sam, and when I think about the fact that after the end of the summer she won't be here each morning any more, I get a lump in my throat. We've had a few long conversations over the past couple of weeks about her plans, and about a lot of aspects of life and child-raising and school, etc. I've been focusing very intentionally on being grateful that we (and especially F. and S.) have had her in our lives (rather than on being sad, that is).
Both of these young women are remarkably emotionally mature, comfortable with themselves, and present in interactions both with adults and with children. They share a certain groundedness, warmth, and sense of fun. (Sam actually really wanted them to meet each other, and had been telling Stephanie all week that he wanted her to get to know Karla...and he got his wish, though he wasn't there to enjoy it-- Stephanie forgot that Karla was picking Sam up, and bumped into her in the hallway outside his classroom just before class was over, and figured out who she was-- so they met just briefly before Stephanie took off to avoid confusing Sam.)
We're in touch with two of the several babysitters who watched Sam during his first year+: One who was our half-time nanny when Sam was 3 through 6 months, who's now a mom herself, and a prof (hi M!) and who blogs about her amazing and delightful newly-4-year-old. The other former babysitter with whom we're in contact also has a baby now, and is back in her native Thailand, finishing up her doctorate in nursing. It's funny: I always figured I would meet people through my kids, but for some reason I never imagined that I would meet so many wonderful people as their caregivers (funny, given that I did a fair bit of babysitting up through grad school, so it's not like I can't imagine interesting people in that role).
And finally, a Robin update:
Two of the three baby robins have fledged. We keep checking for them, though, worried about the neighborhood cats that occasionally frequent our yard. Here they are a few days ago (blurry, sorry):
These days she pulls up to standing on everything, including her old bouncy seat (donated shortly after this picture was taken):
(Sam could not stay out of the frame for more than one picture.)
She walks, with help:
(isn't this outfit adorable? it was a gift from one of my mentors and his family. Sam calls her (Frida, that is) Mrs. Cow when she's wearing it. they're butterflies, in case it's not clear)
She crawls with no help:
And still thinks Sam is the awesomest thing ever:
And she often insists on feeding herself. Avocado and wetted-for-softening O cereal, here (the cheese was already gone). Anything uneaten on the tray gets pounded to a pulp with some enthusiastic sippy-cup whamming.
(Yes, I'm aware that food-covered babies on kid blogs are a cliche.) She's just started signing "all done" when she wants out of her high chair, though she'll often eat more within minutes. So we're offering food frequently, because she's at the 10th percentile for weight (as of her 9-month visit; 50th for length). Brainstorming fatty stuff that's baby friendly: cheese, avocado, salmon, full-fat yogurt, fat-soaked chicken bits... She eats, she would just rather be doing other stuff. Like standing--which she also insisted on doing in the bath last night. It's tricky bathing a slippery little standing Bean. Or yanking books off the shelf, ripping small pieces off of their covers, and eating said pieces. J's traveling every other week between now and the end of June. This should be interesting... two more baby gates are on order, to protect shoes and paperback book covers from Frida, and vice versa, so that I can turn my back for more than a minute at a time. For now if I'm cooking or showering she sits in the booster seat, either with food or with toys on the tray.
Sam update:
Sam's conversational skills seem to have made a leap recently. The other day on the way to school/work he was asking J. about J's work: "How do you divide your time between teaching and studying?" In that same conversation he recalled, from another convo with me weeks ago, the kinds of experiments we do, explaining that if you have one group of people and you tell them one thing, and then you have another group of people whom you tell something different, you then ask both groups to do the same thing, and watch to see if they do it differently... I was really surprised that he remembered that conversation at all, but he appears to have understood the idea of behavioral research. I never seem to have paper and pen, or even the handy little digital voice recorder my father gave me, handy when he's coming up with these insights, or to document his burgeoning vocabulary... will have to get better about that. It's fun, though. He's good company in general these days, though he has a hard time sticking to rules sometimes (e.g., he keeps trying to put Frida places she shouldn't be without an adult, like on the couch; he points out, correctly, that she likes it, and he's watching her carefully, but that doesn't mean it's ok, and I've had to re-emphasize this two or three times this weekend alone). But he can also be remarkably patient. Yesterday, after an early afternoon spent at Drumlin Farm hiking and looking at the animals and just enjoying the late-spring weather, Frida fell asleep in the car on the way home. When we got home, I ran in (leaving Sam to watch F. in the car, and then we had a snack on the front steps, next to the open-window'd car. After a bit, F. still miraculously sleeping, we headed to the park, but when we arrived she was still asleep. Moving the carseat wakes her up pronto, so we hung out in the car for a half hour (!) until she woke up on her own, first playing a few rounds of 20 questions, then writing on a handy piece of paper with a pen (see, I'm trying!) that I had in the car. He spelled out P-O-O-P and P-E and F-R-T (I corrected the latter two). Bathroom words are not allowed at school but we have no problem with them at home, which I am hoping means they will lose their allure sooner than later (but in the meantime, honestly, I am not bothered by them... interestingly, unlike friends of ours with small children similarly titillated by all things scatological). So we had a nice little bonding time, and I was very impressed by his patience, and then he climbed the big web at the park for the next 45 minutes.
Gratitude, more generally
On Friday I was reflecting on some of the awesome people we have in our lives, and feeling especially grateful for the two people who have most helped care for Sam and Frida this past academic year, both of whom feel have come to feel like younger cousins or even (in the latter case) sisters to me. Sam's old babysitter Karla picked him up from school for an end-of-semester (hers, that is) outing-- she wanted to see him once more before going home for the summer, so arranged to hang out for the afternoon. Karla emails me funny links (e.g., hot guys reading books), and forwards me petitions to sign; I look forward to watching her become ever more fabulous in the world. I have also been thinking a lot about our lovely, lovely nanny Stephanie, and how much we will miss her next year. She's totally on our wavelength in so many ways, is like a second mom to Frida and a good friend and teacher to Sam, and when I think about the fact that after the end of the summer she won't be here each morning any more, I get a lump in my throat. We've had a few long conversations over the past couple of weeks about her plans, and about a lot of aspects of life and child-raising and school, etc. I've been focusing very intentionally on being grateful that we (and especially F. and S.) have had her in our lives (rather than on being sad, that is).
Both of these young women are remarkably emotionally mature, comfortable with themselves, and present in interactions both with adults and with children. They share a certain groundedness, warmth, and sense of fun. (Sam actually really wanted them to meet each other, and had been telling Stephanie all week that he wanted her to get to know Karla...and he got his wish, though he wasn't there to enjoy it-- Stephanie forgot that Karla was picking Sam up, and bumped into her in the hallway outside his classroom just before class was over, and figured out who she was-- so they met just briefly before Stephanie took off to avoid confusing Sam.)
We're in touch with two of the several babysitters who watched Sam during his first year+: One who was our half-time nanny when Sam was 3 through 6 months, who's now a mom herself, and a prof (hi M!) and who blogs about her amazing and delightful newly-4-year-old. The other former babysitter with whom we're in contact also has a baby now, and is back in her native Thailand, finishing up her doctorate in nursing. It's funny: I always figured I would meet people through my kids, but for some reason I never imagined that I would meet so many wonderful people as their caregivers (funny, given that I did a fair bit of babysitting up through grad school, so it's not like I can't imagine interesting people in that role).
And finally, a Robin update:
Two of the three baby robins have fledged. We keep checking for them, though, worried about the neighborhood cats that occasionally frequent our yard. Here they are a few days ago (blurry, sorry):
Monday, May 3, 2010
kids eating
Frida trying to decide between All Quiet on the Western Front, and The Story of O.
She likes to brace her feet against the tray while eating (here, feeding herself grains of brown rice, having already eaten a jar of baby food):
Drinking water is fun!
Dropping the cup on the floor for the nth time and having Daddy pick it up is even funner!
Sam, master of the attached-end chopsticks:
She likes to brace her feet against the tray while eating (here, feeding herself grains of brown rice, having already eaten a jar of baby food):
Drinking water is fun!
Dropping the cup on the floor for the nth time and having Daddy pick it up is even funner!
Sam, master of the attached-end chopsticks:
Saturday, May 1, 2010
flying snap peas
Been doing lots of stuff, and not recording much of it. A couple of recent updates:
We were in Montreal for a conference. Got to see friends from our Philly days who live there now, which was nice (their son, who's now 10, was in our wedding when he was a bit younger than Sam is now). Went out for mussels with J's lab. Sam was tired, and after flopping about on J's lap and mine for a bit (where he couldn't stay, because it's impossible to eat mussels one-handed), he stretched out on two chairs that J. pushed together and fell asleep. (He did the same in Las Vegas, as I may have mentioned, at a buffet.) Excellent trait in a child, being able to fall asleep anywhere.
Last night we went to the Big Apple Circus, surprising Sam (we were going to go, then found out how much it costs, then I found a discount code online and bought tix last-minute). Sam's two favorite things, as told to our upstairs neighbor this afternoon? Getting to sit next to his friend from kindergarten (whom we bumped into unexpectedly), and the "flying snap peas." (Say it out loud if you don't get it.)
Kid updates:
Bean has tremendous urges towards vertical-ness these days: she is pulling up on chairs, convenient adult body-parts, the couch, and less congenial supports like the yoga ball. She has gone from wailing every time she falls over to just blinking in surprise and getting back up. But it's such a drive that trying to get her to sleep tonight involved her pulling up to standing (using my hip, as I lay on my side next to her, as support), being placed back horizontal by me, nursing a few seconds, then grunting and pulling back up, at least 25 times in a row. I think she'll be a climber, too-- she pulled up to standing on the lower of two stools we have in the bathroom, while I was bathing Sam tonight, then when I next looked at her (from 4 inches away) she had climbed on top of that, holding onto the knob of the bathroom cabinet. Yikes.
Bean's also a fan of self-feeding; Stephanie has let her feed herself with a spoon a couple of times (I don't have the same level of mess tolerance), and she frequently feeds herself these little puffs, and recently tiny bits of shredded chicken or salmon. When she has the option, she refuses spoon-feeding in favor of picking up itsy bits of stuff and feeding herself. No teeth yet, so she's just gumming it all into submission. Of course, this goes along with picking up itsy bits of other random stuff and putting it into her mouth, which combined with her increased mobility means we have to, ahem, start sweeping our floors on a more regular basis.
Sam's finally gotten the hang of his pedal-less bike over the past week (last summer his feet couldn't comfortably reach on both sides, so he'd never gotten into riding it), and is now scooting and gliding at every opportunity. I think we'll be able to add the pedals-- sans training wheels-- in another month or so.
He got into some trouble at school this past week for hiding on the playground at recess (and staying hidden when the whole class was calling for him, and then claiming he couldn't hear) because he was upset that his teachers were busy and couldn't push him on the swing. After much discussion both at school and at home, and a long letter to his teachers crafted jointly by me and him, and written out by him, everybody is over it, and I think he has learned the associated lessons. But in some ways, it's like he's going through a more sophisticated version of being 2 years old-- when he wants something he wants it RightNowThisMinute, and learning to wait and take other people's priorities into consideration is very challenging.
This afternoon we'd decided to take a picnic to a nearby large park. Sam very much wanted to invite other people along, so in addition to our upstairs neighbor Paula (who did come along), and Uncle Dan and Aunt Sara (who met us there later), Sam invited two other neighbors whom we say hi to frequently but don't know very well (one, who lives down the street, we don't even know by name; both thanked him and declined). Sociable kid, in funny ways.
To end: we have a robin nesting in the holly bush right by our front door. She flies off the nest most times when we enter or leave via the door, so we've been using the back door more often. Still no hatchlings, but it's fun to monitor.
We were in Montreal for a conference. Got to see friends from our Philly days who live there now, which was nice (their son, who's now 10, was in our wedding when he was a bit younger than Sam is now). Went out for mussels with J's lab. Sam was tired, and after flopping about on J's lap and mine for a bit (where he couldn't stay, because it's impossible to eat mussels one-handed), he stretched out on two chairs that J. pushed together and fell asleep. (He did the same in Las Vegas, as I may have mentioned, at a buffet.) Excellent trait in a child, being able to fall asleep anywhere.
Last night we went to the Big Apple Circus, surprising Sam (we were going to go, then found out how much it costs, then I found a discount code online and bought tix last-minute). Sam's two favorite things, as told to our upstairs neighbor this afternoon? Getting to sit next to his friend from kindergarten (whom we bumped into unexpectedly), and the "flying snap peas." (Say it out loud if you don't get it.)
Kid updates:
Bean has tremendous urges towards vertical-ness these days: she is pulling up on chairs, convenient adult body-parts, the couch, and less congenial supports like the yoga ball. She has gone from wailing every time she falls over to just blinking in surprise and getting back up. But it's such a drive that trying to get her to sleep tonight involved her pulling up to standing (using my hip, as I lay on my side next to her, as support), being placed back horizontal by me, nursing a few seconds, then grunting and pulling back up, at least 25 times in a row. I think she'll be a climber, too-- she pulled up to standing on the lower of two stools we have in the bathroom, while I was bathing Sam tonight, then when I next looked at her (from 4 inches away) she had climbed on top of that, holding onto the knob of the bathroom cabinet. Yikes.
Bean's also a fan of self-feeding; Stephanie has let her feed herself with a spoon a couple of times (I don't have the same level of mess tolerance), and she frequently feeds herself these little puffs, and recently tiny bits of shredded chicken or salmon. When she has the option, she refuses spoon-feeding in favor of picking up itsy bits of stuff and feeding herself. No teeth yet, so she's just gumming it all into submission. Of course, this goes along with picking up itsy bits of other random stuff and putting it into her mouth, which combined with her increased mobility means we have to, ahem, start sweeping our floors on a more regular basis.
Sam's finally gotten the hang of his pedal-less bike over the past week (last summer his feet couldn't comfortably reach on both sides, so he'd never gotten into riding it), and is now scooting and gliding at every opportunity. I think we'll be able to add the pedals-- sans training wheels-- in another month or so.
He got into some trouble at school this past week for hiding on the playground at recess (and staying hidden when the whole class was calling for him, and then claiming he couldn't hear) because he was upset that his teachers were busy and couldn't push him on the swing. After much discussion both at school and at home, and a long letter to his teachers crafted jointly by me and him, and written out by him, everybody is over it, and I think he has learned the associated lessons. But in some ways, it's like he's going through a more sophisticated version of being 2 years old-- when he wants something he wants it RightNowThisMinute, and learning to wait and take other people's priorities into consideration is very challenging.
This afternoon we'd decided to take a picnic to a nearby large park. Sam very much wanted to invite other people along, so in addition to our upstairs neighbor Paula (who did come along), and Uncle Dan and Aunt Sara (who met us there later), Sam invited two other neighbors whom we say hi to frequently but don't know very well (one, who lives down the street, we don't even know by name; both thanked him and declined). Sociable kid, in funny ways.
To end: we have a robin nesting in the holly bush right by our front door. She flies off the nest most times when we enter or leave via the door, so we've been using the back door more often. Still no hatchlings, but it's fun to monitor.
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