Our Babies

The Bed

Henry has a big boy bed. He decided that he wanted it, as you all may remember from an earlier post when he identified a picture of a bed in one of his books as the one he likes, "a big boy bed".

We had found one at Ikea that we wanted to get for him, he had tried it out, and we had plans to go get it. Finally, this past weekend we drove up to Ikea. We had to take 2 vehicles - mine hauling me and the boys to make sure that Kevin got the right one, and Kevin's to ensure we had the proper amount of room to haul the bed home. Henry talked about the bed all the way up to Ikea, and ran through the store in glee. I wished that I had taken our video camera.

The bed was put together, with some difficulty - but it's up anyway, and it's lovely. Henry and I went to Target for some new bed sheets - he picked out his colors. He was excited to sleep on it, and has now for 2 naps and 2 nights. Each night he has fallen out halfway through the night.

He has some difficulty with the notion that he has to stay in bed once it is bedtime, and strongly feels that one of us needs to lie down with him and "Leep" (sleep), and if this isn't done to his satisfaction, he becomes quite distressed. But, if we do lie down, he curls right up to us and snuggles in. Then, at the right time, we can sneak out.

It amazes me that he's already in a big bed. My little baby.

Birthday

My birthday fell on a weekend that Kevin was off, so that was nice, and we had a little family celebration that Friday after work. After dinner, Kevin wouldn't let me into the kitchen, but I quickly understood why as Henry was reaching frantically for the counter as he talked about the "cupcakes". We all ate gluten free cupcakes (super yummy), and Henry quickly made the association between birthdays and cupcakes. He brought to me my 2 gifts, and when I asked him what they were, he never took his eyes off of his cupcake as he replied, "Books". Yea!! 2 good ones: I Was Told There'd Be Cake, by Sloane Crosley, and When You are Engulfed in Flames, by David Sedaris.

So having Henry around meant there weren't going to be any surprises, but who can argue with cupcakes and books??

Then we had a little get together with some friends. When the cake arrived, the kids and I blew out the candles together, and Henry wielded a big spoon. He couldn't contain himself much longer and he had to dip in once the candles were blown out. Luckily, the cake was dense, so he didn't get beyond the frosting - but then, I'm not entirely certain he intended to get beyond the frosting anyway. The cake was cut and there was a collective "ah" when the cake was identified to be chocolate - at first I thought that that came solely from the kids present, but I think the adults had shared their anticipation.

It was fun! Henry sang out "Happy birdday to you" for about a week, and talked often about the cupcakes which clearly made an impression.

Just More

Notice the thumb in mouth? And check out those blue eyes!

Walter and Henry

Holy Train Set

"Holy Moly!!!!!!", was all I could say upon returning home from work yesterday and seeing this train table equipped with all the fixin's (buildings, train-like things, extra track, and more trains from the land of Sodor than I thought existed).

A friend of ours had called Kevin the night before and said, "Hey, I have a Thomas the Tank train table and trains to give to Henry if he wants them." (AS IF!) His child has outgrown it. Ok, we thought, that's great - the plan was that Kev would collect it the following day.

We were astounded. We've seen train tables like this before, but didn't really expect to ever own one. Now Henry has no need to leave the house - he is enthralled. As we all are - the little buildings all have little special characteristics - like when the door to the fire engine is lifted, a bell rings. There's a little grain elevator that actually drops grain like pellets in a shoot if you lift a lever. There are bridges of the open and covered variety. There is some water tower like thing with blue liquid in it and when the pump is lifted and lowered the liquid amount in the tower changes so it looks like the trains are being filled with the substance. We have tunnels, we have more track than we know what to do with - altho I suspect Henry will find a use for it all. And I haven't even started talking about the table. But you can see for yourself.

We feel extraordinarily lucky to be the recipient of such a gift. Henry played and played last night with a glazed look in his eyes, and once informed me that, "The bitch is broken. Uh oh, bitch." I fixed that bitch for him... That's my job now. I fix the bitches.

farcebook

Sometimes I am friended in Facebook by people in high school I don't remember. Nowadays, if I don't know someone, I don't acknowledge the friend request, but earlier on in my facebook career, I accepted friend requests willy nilly. This has proven to be a mistake, and here's why:

1. I accepted a request, then replied with an honest, but stupid, acknowledgment that I didn't remember the woman in question, and then proceeded to make an ass out of myself by asking her if she was the person who I remember from a camp, laying out all the details of a particular event -- of which she knew nothing. She never replied and kept me on her list of friends anyway - for what reason I haven't figured out.
And 2. A "friend" from high school, who I honestly believe I may never have spoken to ever (and seriously believe that he mistakenly friended me), recently wrote in facebook that he likes Fox News.

Zikes.

sunday school

We went into the church nursery today and the volunteer attendant greeted Henry and asked him what he likes to play with. He eyed the train set on the floor and announced that that was his favorite toy (other than the toy vacuum - I'm so proud!). Fear shot through me nearly immobilizing me as he continued to yammer on to her. I nearly grabbed the woman, but restrained myself as I leaned in and whispered, "He cannot pronounce the word "bridge", don't be alarmed!"

funky expectations

While I tend to have high expectations of health care providers, I understand that they clearly can't know everything. But why do we hold them to such an outlandish bar of excellence? I cannot tell you how many times I have heard people complain that their doctor/therapist/insert any type of health care provider here:_______________ doesn't know or do enough.

Here is my question: why aren't others held to a higher bar? I certainly don't expect the cashier at our local supermarket to be held to great expectations, and yet, why not? Why is it that we routinely receive crummy service from the rest of the business world out there and we ignore it, consider it normal, or god forbid, view it as acceptable? Human resource providers, for example, have unilaterally decided to no longer respond to people sending in resumes and this has become the "norm". Restaurant wait staff are rude and we, well, we call that Minneapolis - but still, it can happen elsewhere too, and we usually simply choose not to return. Most store clerks appear to have no clue about their merchandise, or even where their merchandise is located, and so we generally avoid them. Bankers - well, I don't even think I need to go there. But health care providers... now that's a different story.

Yes, I want my provider, whoever s/he is to know things, and how to do things, but I also have seen my doc sit down with me with an enormous anatomy book so that he could better answer my question. Okay, yes, I did initially think that was a bit bizarre, but I also really appreciated his honesty that he might not know everything and his willingness to help me. Plus he had at that point delivered Henry, so I had some faith in his abilities. I think maybe that's my point. Just because we may lose faith in someone's abilities or their ability at that point in time, doesn't necessarily mean that they're clueless. Yet I have seen folks berate, bail on, or make quick judgments regarding their provider when their needs haven't been met to their satisfaction - which on many occasions appears to be a rash and hasty move, while on others it might indeed be completely reasonable.

Are we in general a reactive society? I think we might be. Are our expectations slightly out of whack? Maybe so, certainly on occasion they are. Could we slow down a bit, think a bit more, communicate and clarify more often, hold more realistic expectations of all people and make an attempt at distributing our feedback in a fairer fashion? Could we attempt to share positive feedback at the same rate as we might the negative? As a consumer and a provider, I would like this.

This is something I could work on, and something I'd like to see in others as well. You might say that I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one...

And it begins

First thing this morning Henry wanted to give Walter a new nuk, and had a small conniption when I encouraged him to give his brother a different one. Finally I relented and Henry, standing over his brother, nuk in hand, looked at me and said, "Go away, Mama!" He clearly was going to "gently cram" the nuk into his brother's face without me or my help. Clearly, this was between him and his Baby Walter.

I got it again at the pool - last day of swim class - as we waited for our group to come together, he told me to go away. This time it was slightly different. He looked around after saying it and I thought, oh, he is practicing his independence. I realized that soon, probably sooner than I ever dreamed of, he will shrink away from my hugs and kisses and may be less inclined to be cuddled while around other kids. And it will be my role to understand that and foster his independence and encourage it. Part of me isn't very excited about this, let me tell you. My little baby is growing up.

Bitchin' Trains Part II

Henry and I are downstairs watching a Jane Austin flick. He points to his train tracks, looks at me, and says, "Bitch this way."
I start to laugh, a tiny part of me wondering if he is telling me to go play with him, or pointing out his bridge. Probably the latter.
I pronounce slowly, like before, "bridge, Henry."
"Bitch, yes."
Ah. Just wait til he goes to Sunday School and plays with their train set. Won't they be surprised.

Baby Walter

I wonder if Walter will ever outgrow being known as "Baby Walter". Henry refers to him this way, almost all of the time, and it's quite endearing, but then I think - will we outgrow this? Or will poor Walter always be "Baby Walter"? It's impossible to tell.

Henry is, like, so cool

In case anyone dares to challenge his position, when done with dinner Henry says, "Henny so all done now!"
If he tumbles, he laughs and says, "Henny so fall down!"
Really, it's hard to argue with him.

Could I possibly be happier?

I am a proud owner of a clothes line. I have wanted one for years, and let me stress that: YEARS. In fact, I probably should have simply asked for it for Christmas, I knew it would make me this happy, and yet, I never did. For years Kevin and I argued over having one - I wanted one (for years)and he did not - and the best place to put it. Finally, I didn't care if we had to hire 2 people to hold the damn posts each time we used it, by God, I was going to get myself a clothes line. And so I did.

I am such a proud owner that it has been put up in a way that it can be taken down when we move - because I don't plan to leave it behind. It could in fact be the deal breaker to actually moving...

When I think of a clothes line, I think of "home", which is ironic seeing as how I never actually lived in a home that had a clothes line. But now I do, and our home feels ten times more like a home than ever before. I'm also doing a lot more laundry.

Bitchin' Trains

Ikea rocks. The other day while looking for a bed and dresser for Henry we found train tracks and trains - considerably cheaper than Thomas the Tank, while compatible to it. So, we got a few and set them up. Tons of fun for Henry. Tons of fun for Mom is listening to him try to say, "bridge", since he now has one.
"Bitch!" He shouts happily as his train careens over it.
"Bitch." He contentedly announces as the train chugs under it.
"B-r-i-d-g-e," I pronounce slowly for him.
"B-i-t-c-h," he replies.

(Cross) Dressing Henry

This morning Henry announced that he is a girl. I told him he was a very pretty girl. Then Daddy took a shirt out of Henry's closet that I had forgotten we had, and showed it to Henry. It was a lovely little white blouse with pretty embroidered flowers of all colors all over it. I had gotten it for our friend Matilda, with instructions for her mom to send it back to us in the future in case I had a girl (this was long before Henry was even imagined). I even indicated that I might even dress my little boy in it, I thought it was so cute. Well, my friend Rachel, Matilda's mom, did indeed send it back to me when Henry was born, and here it was. My opportunity had finally come!

Henry frowned as he looked at it and alas, reported that he didn't want to wear it, pointing out that he liked his t-shirt better. I've never wished for a girl having always been happy to be a mom of boys, but if you listened closely enough, you could've heard my crest falling...

Reading books with Henry

Henry likes to go through 2 picture books that my mom gave him and name the single item that is on each page. So, it always starts out a little mundane until you get to the following items:
"Bug" - which he calls, "Ladybug ouchy? no ladybug tickle, bee ouchy, drangonfly ouchy? no, dragonfly tickle."
"Feet" (picture of soles of child's feet) - which Henry hysterically defines as, "Boy fall down."
"Bike" - because it looks uncommonly like one that Henry has had bad experience with - he calls it, "Bike Henny fall off".
And, this one was new to me today. We came to the picture of the bed and he said that he liked that one best and called it "big bed". I asked him if he is ready for a big boy bed and for the first time ever he agreed that he was, and pointing to the crib he said, "not this bed."

Aqua Tots Revisited

After our first swim class when Henry was resistant to- well, everything- we talked a lot about "pool class" and whether he planned to engage when we returned for our second class. He agreed that he was going to go, and not only attend, but join in. I was excited!

We got to class the next day and he was a little fussy about joining the group outside the pool to chat, and instead wanted to get right in. Once in, he chose to join in on some of the activities, and was initially hesitant about jumping in from the side of the pool. We started by my holding his torso and "helping" him jump, then moved quickly to holding his hands as he took little leaps. Each time he would smile and laugh, and replied to me that no, he didn't want to do it again. But we did. Over and over.

And, he blew bubbles!! We took turns and our teacher was impressed with him. She didn't comment on my bubble blowing abilities though, and I was a little disappointed... The teacher knew about the "boat appeal" and brought a boat to Henry, but Henry said to her, "No, no, Henny can", and she turned around to replace it on the side of the pool so that he could get it himself (it was the only boat left to choose, mind you).

On his way out of the pool he waved goodbye to our teacher saying, "Bye bye Sarah. Henny be back soon." And he was.

Henry's Commentaries

Hen has a lot to say overall. He can chat your ear off. He chatted my mother up without giving her any room to respond, which is a feat the rest of us haven't achieved.

Last night we asked him which was better: pancakes or tractors.
"Pancakes!" He said quickly.
Then he rethought and said, "Well, no, tractors."

Today I pointed to Walter, who was simply irresistibly adorable, and said,
"Hen, isn't he super cute?"
Henry regarded his bruddah and said, "Well..."