Watch Connor Grow!

And now there are two!

2007-10-13T21:12:00.001-04:00

Helen Carlin MyLastName made our family number four instead of three. No more posts will appear at this address. Instead, you can keep up with Connor and Helen at ConnorAndHelen.blogspot.com

Elaine

Conquering the chain link ladder thingy

2007-10-10T20:21:00.001-04:00

Yesterday, Connor got his third haircut (I'll post a photo soon). And guess what? I can actually comb his hair again without it being a tangled mess. It still looks like a tangled mess all the time, but that's the fate of us curly haired folks.

After the haircut, we went to the "blue park" - which is just a little park across from the salon I take him to, and has apparently become a mandatory part of the haircut process for Connor ever since I took him there the last time. Seriously...our conversation yesterday went like this.

"Connor - it's time to lop off some of those curls so we can comb your hair again. We're going to the haircut place."
"And I would like some some popcorn."
"Yes, Connor may have some popcorn."
"And play with the new toy?" {Translation, little big bird thingy that you push a button on his tummy and it alternates between playing two songs. The button can be pushed appoximately 207 times during one haircut.)
"Yes, and play with the new toy."
"And then I would like to go to the park."
"Yes, Connor, the park will be a fun place to go after you get a haircut."
Upon seeing the park out the window. "I think we should go to the blue park."

Important note: While Connor still uses his name in place of "I" sometimes, he totally gets pronouns these days.

While at the park, Connor looked at the chain link ladder thingy, plopped his first foot on, and climbed about 4 feet up to the slide and then slid down. The look of pure joy and satisfaction at accomplishing this feat unassisted was amazing. What next?

Elaine

Sloth Bears

2007-10-09T22:03:00.000-04:00

My friend, April Dawn Gladu, wrote the musical adapation of "The Jungle Book" that is being performed at Imagination Stage in Bethesda right now. If you have a child in the area who is age 4 or older (or a younger child with a long attention span), I highly recommend the show. Connor and I had the pleasure of going as her guests on opening day, and even though he's only 2, he sat through the entire perfomance and has talked about it enough afterwards that he appears to have followed the show pretty well. He has even asked to go to more musicals which makes my heart leap with joy since it may mean in the future I have a partner to do these sorts of things with. Ed would rather watch paint dry than attend most musicals.

There was a review of the performance in last weekend's Post and when Connor saw the photos, he instantly recognized the monkeys. He has also talked about the tigers, and the birds in the show. However, try as I might, I have been unable to convince him that the lead character was a sloth bear. He just doesn't buy it.

I think this is because a few weeks ago, my friends invited Ed, Connor, and me on a backstage tour of the sloth bear house. Here, we got to meet - and feed - real sloth bears. You put worms on your hand, raise your hand to a tube, and then the sloth bear sucks them right in. Not surprisingly, Connor loved this. He did it many times (the joy of being the only kid on the tour). He still talks about it several weeks later. Often, when he sees a yellow line that he's not supposed to cross, he reminds me it's just like at the sloth bear house. Maybe I should put a yellow line on the kitchen floor to see if it would keep him out, on occasion.

Elaine - who also helped Connor feed the sloth bears and did not jump in horror when a few of the gross worms fell on her hand and squiggled about.

Collecting Souveniers

2007-10-07T21:59:00.001-04:00

A few weeks ago, Connor discovered the power of the pocket. He learned that he could now not only go through my wallet and remove all the coins, but he could squirrel them away so that they need never be returned.

Today, at the National Zoo's Annual Fall Festival at the Conservation and Research Center, he proved just how great pockets can be. The festival is billed as an education activity, though it's designed for children a bit older than Connor. We collected our first prize, by running beneath a net towards some candy. We were supposed to grab the candy and get out before the net dropped, which of course was impossible.

Perhaps we got caught because I am not running as fast these days as I have in prior days. It didn't seem to bother Connor much, because he still got the candy. And Connor didn't stop at one piece of candy, he got three. After all, he needed one for himself, one for me, and one for Ed. Connor stuffed one package of candy in his pocket.

Next, Connor found a ditch! And do you know what this ditch had? It had rocks...and acorns! Both of these objects fit in pockets - so in they went.

Finally, Connor found some nice brown leaves that made a most satisfying crunch when stomped upon.

And, since there was still room for a few more things in the pocket, Connor decided to take a few home.

I suppose there were some animals around to look at as well, but they don't fit in pockets.

Elaine

Public transportation and golf

2007-10-06T21:53:00.000-04:00

This morning, we asked Connor what he wanted to do. The only restriction we had placed on our approval was that we were not going to attempt to cross a bridge into DC either today or tomorrow because the AIDSWalk and the Army 10 miler are in town - and that means traffic is assured to be a mess. With that in mind, Connor decided he would like to take a subway ride. Woohoo baby! Dream big! To be fair, after I told him I didn't want to drive into DC, he wanted to take the subway to a play place we frequent on our way to RFK - but it's a really long ride so I wasn't up for that.

But...we did get to ride that subway. First, we got to walk from the parking lot to the subway - on an above ground, indoor walkway. We hung out at a fountain, a playground, a bookstore, ate at a restaurant, visited a toystore, and then capped our adventure with a bus ride. A real...live...bus ride. It's the best $1.25 of entertainment around - I suspect because little people are allowed to not be strapped down in a car seat.

Then we came home, had a quick nap, and Connor was ready to head out to the golf course. Lately, this has been among his favorite hangouts. I think he's preparing for the next family vacation when I'm sure he will deal a crushing blow in the game of miniwalk to whatever cousin tries to challenge him. He starts out the game acting like a fish out of water, but once he hits the greens, the tables turn.

Golfing, for Connor, presents a different experience than to most people. For example, unlike most golfers, Connor does not fear having his ball hit the water hazard. In fact, one might say after they saw Connor's signature move of picking his ball up and tossing it directly into the water, or his more subtle move of aiming his little body directly at the water while he hits his ball that he relishes being in the water. Personally, I think he does it just so he can impress my dad with how well he can fish a ball out of the water - something my dad is no stranger to. Note to my dad - the bigger the splash, the higher the probability that the ball will be retrieved.

What, you ask? So few shots of actual golf playing? All I can say is, we are all presented with many opportunities every day - and we have the task of making the most of them. Connor takes his task very seriously.

Elaine

The trouble with being skinny...

2007-10-04T11:51:00.000-04:00

For the most part, having a skinny kid is great. I get to let him have a glass of the now forbidden fruit known as juice every morning while I have a glass of juice without feeling any guilt. Because frankly, childhood obesity has not made it to my list of things to worry about, and I'm not about to start my day without my ritualistic OJ or listen to Connor complain that early in the day how unfair it is that I get juice and he doesn't. And, just like any kid, sometimes Connor gets tired of walking, and it usually falls to the parent to scoop them up and carry them to the intended destination. I figure I might as well scoop up a kid who doesn't weigh much more than 20 pounds as one who tops the scales several pounds above that. Only trouble is, when Connor got curious and turned on the fan the other day, I thought we might lose him!

Elaine

Closing down RFK

2007-10-02T21:00:00.000-04:00

Ed and I have had a piece of a season ticket for the Nationals since they arrived in town three years ago. Mounted down in Grateful Ed's (our basement bar) is a little collage that holds an Opening Day ticket, a photo of the scoreboard advertising Grateful Ed's Brewhouse, and now the Closing Day ticket. Prior to its opening, Ed announced that the fact that RFK was serving veggie hotdogs was a sign of the decline of baseball. You see, Ed is one of those guys who thinks Yankee stadium is the ideal setting for a baseball game precisely because there are no amenities. You cannot even get fresh popped popcorn at Yankee stadium - only prepackaged crap. Unlike me, Ed is not at all excited about the new stadium because he just knows there's going to be a bunch of fun extra stuff to do, and that is not what baseball is about to Ed (though we both think the sandbox located in front of the outfield seats, but behind a large fence in the San Diego ballpark is nothing short of brilliant - now that we have a kid!).

Connor has been to an enormous number of games for someone his age. His career of going to games started within his first three weeks of life when Ed and I were both at home on maternity / paternity leave and there was a day game. Before age 2, he'd probably made it to a dozen games or so, and now I'm certain the number of games he has attended tops 20. Over time, he's gone from nursing to sleep in my lap every game to being among the more energetic fans. He can even do "the wave" (another thing Ed hates when baseball fans do, though he finds it enormously entertaining when Connor participates). Probably the most frequently asked question Ed or I get from folks is "Does Connor need a ticket?" and Ed's standard answer sums our gameday experience up perfectly "Technically, no, but he does need about 20 seats". Fortunately, our row happens to be populated rather sparsely, so it's usually not a problem.

In all of the games Connor attended this year at night, he did not fall asleep once.

He laid on the ground a few times, he put his head in my lap a few times, he would even settle down with a nice cold bottle of milk for a few minutes - but sleep did not visit him, regardless of how long past his usual bedtime we were out. But on Closing Day - when the stadium was practically sold out - and we had almost no room for Connor to do his usual roaming (I think we were limited to about 5 seats), and the stadium was noisier than it's been since Opening Day, Connor climbed up on Ed's lap at naptime...and slept. He slept soundly for several innings, and while uncomfortable for Ed (normally it would've been my lap, but these days, I have no lap!), we got to once again experience the joy of watching the same innings of baseball, on a beautiful day in September.

Elaine

Why we need more medical insurance

2007-09-27T22:19:00.000-04:00

"You know what I should start doing? I should start planning Connor's swingset."
"You mean, you're going to build him something."
"Yeah."
"Do you know those come pre-made?"
"Only the shitty ones. He needs trap doors, ejector seats... Let's just say this, honey, the pre-made ones don't come with a zip line to the bottom."

My trip to Labor and Delivery

2007-09-27T21:34:00.001-04:00

I went to the hospital on Wednesday...and I got me

...a head down baby! So now, I can go back to my plan of giving birth at home. Prior to that, Baby Helen had decided she would prefer to lie sideways in my uterus, rather than in a position that it was possible for her to enter the world in a non-surgical manner. But the head of OB at the hospital near my home took one look at the sonogram and declared my baby was a "turnable baby", so with a lot of external pressure, he and another doctor performed an external cepahlic version - and it worked. At the end, he wished me well and told me to go back to the midwives.

Though the procedure took less than two minutes, my stay in the hospital lasted several hours (most of which was just waiting to be officially discharged, which was long after the doc announced I could go home). For the last half hour or so of my hospital stay, Ed went home to get Connor, went to a fast food joint for some fries, and then played roll down the steep hill with Connor until my release. Because of this, Connor probably thinks hospitals are cool.

Elaine, who is much happier than she was a week ago.

Next year, we're getting the moon bounce!

2007-09-23T20:33:00.000-04:00

Last Saturday, Ed and I hosted our annual Oktoberfest party. I think we've been hosting this since 2002, with the exception of 2006. Last year at this time, Connor had just started sleeping through the night and Ed and I were fearful of doing ANYTHING that might jinx that situation. Inviting a bunch of people over to our home who would not necessarily tiptoe around in near silence would have been tantamount to telling Ed he could never in his life ingest anouther beer. That's territory you just don't tread on.

But this year, we decided to gear up, with the slight modification that we would go from having the party be an exclusively evening affair to more of an all-day fete, which is much more akin to the way the real Oktoberfest works. Sadly, I didn't take my camera out once. But luckily, if you know Vickie, you can get access to her movie of the big event (or you can e-mail me and I'll tell you how to sign in as me to see the movie). And here's a snapshot she captured of the little man.

At first, Connor wasn't too sure what to make of all the kids. In fact, he kept asking Ed and me to take him to parts of the house without other kids. But once his friend Zoe arrived, he finally understood what having a party meant. They jumped on his bed, ran around outside, played in his playhouse, swung in the hammock, took a ride on the swing, and generally enjoyed running around. Thank you weather gods, for allowing us such a beautiful day. On Friday, all I could think about was how the toddlers were coming! If you haven't seen a bunch of toddlers lately, I assure you the prospect of having many of them in your home is much scarier than having a bunch of drunks in your home. The drunks, after all, fall down at some point.

Shortly after dinner, the kid crowd cleared out and the adult crowd arrived, with a small amount of overlap. We learned that Connor is pretty darn comfortable among the drinking crowd (not that my mom friends and their spouses don't drink - but let's just say the average number of drinks they consume is well below the average for my non-kid friends). Traditionally in Germany, kids are kicked out of the beer tents at 8:00. Connor was able to hang until 8:30 when he actually requested to be taken to bed. He slept the whole night without making a peep - and even had the courtesy to sleep in on Sunday morning. Maybe he is our kid after all.

And Eamon, you can be certain there will be a big festival next year - and like the title says, we'll be getting a moon bounce!

Elaine

Crap day!

2007-09-21T07:44:00.000-04:00

Yesterday morning started out bright enough. Connor and I hung out reading books, he ate a nice big bowl of oatmeal before his nanny arrived, and was having a fun time sorting through the very nice drawer of useless kitchen tools to see what he needed to capture for his own use. Then he dropped a glass bottle which naturally busted into a million pieces on the floor. But then things turned around. Once his nanny arrived, we played a game of slam dunk three balls at once which had Connor laughing and allowed me to leave the house without a bunch of grief. For the record, Little Man lets Ed leave the house four days a week with no grief, but I think it's just so on my one late day, he can really pile on all his tricks.

And then the crap part really started. First, I left the house about 2 minutes too late, because just as I got to the corner, my bus passed by me. Damn. Now I had to ride my bike to the subway. Then, when I got to work, I realized that my teeny-tiny pearl bracelet - the one my friend Kellee had specially made for me in China to fit my freakishly small wrists, the one bracelet I can wear - fell off my wrist somewhere between my home and office. Ed and Connor met me for dinner at a restaurant near my midwife's office, and Ed informed me that on the drive over, Connor had seen a McDonalds, gotten all excited and shrieked "There's Mommy's letter!!". I hate McDonalds. I often tell people that because there aren't a ton of things Connor can do to really get under my skin, he'll probably rebel by bringing a giant box of McDonalds fries home when he's a teenager, slamming them on the dinner table, and informing me that he's having McDonalds for dinner. That, or he'll join the Army.

Next, we went to my 36 week appointment with my midwife only to find out that Helen is still lying sideways. No surprise, but sideways babies are not candidates for home birth. The only bright spot to this news is that she hasn't dropped anything down into my pelvis, so she's still a turnable baby, which means I'll be going to the hospital for an external version whenever the only doctor in the area who performs these maneuvers can squeeze me in and thinks it's appropriate. When we got home from the appointment, Connor decided he was not going to bed, so Ed and I spent from 8:30 (bedtime) to about 9:30 putting Connor back in his bed. But, I think Connor's stomach might have been bothering him because the last time he got out of bed, he asked "Does Connor need to flush his poopies?" which, in our neverending game of Jeopardy! is Connor's way of saying he just took a dump. I posited that this might have been the reason he was having trouble sleeping and he agreed. Finally, ater I settled him in bed for the millionth time, it stuck. But only until 3:40 when he came into my room to play helicopter on my bed. This is when Connor asks in a very pitiful voice "Does Connor need to lay next to Mommy and sleep?" and climbs up into bed and makes himself comfortable. He pretends that he's going to sleep, until just the point when I fall asleep and then he starts moving around like a helicopter. This happened at 4:10. I looked at him and said "This isn't working, Connor. You need to go back to your bed." And man, I was tough as nails. I plopped him across the hall in his bed and even when he asked me to lay with him for just a few minutes, I told him I was tired and needed sleep, so I was going to my own bed. I told him he could come get me when the wake-up light came on. Miraculously, he stayed in bed until said lighting.

Surely today will be better. And if you read this far, send all your baby turning mojo my way, because I do not want to end up in the hospital with a c-section.

Elaine

Because I needed another backseat driver

2007-09-18T07:32:00.000-04:00

It's no secret that I am terrible with directions. I come by it honestly, though. Family legend has it that after my parents got married, they set off across the country on their honeymoon. Not too far into the trip, my dad handed my mom a map. If she did then what she does today, she started flipping the map around so that it was oriented with the car going up the map, because everyone knows that's the right way to hold a map, even if it means west is "up". My dad, quite proficient at map reading, was not impressed. But heck, the wedding was over and there was nothing to do now, so off they headed, and I do believe they got to where my dad was hoping they would get. This started my dad's career as being my mom's personal Mapquest service. Who needs a computer when you've got a yellow tablet, a pencil, and an engineer for a husband?

Long before our wedding day, Ed learned that I suffered from my mother's skill deficit in the map reading department. I've gotten better over the years (as has my mom), but I can still manage to get lost going someplace Ed and I have been 100 times. It's impressive if you really sit and think about it.

Last Thursday, as I was driving Connor home from pre-school, I decided to stop by a friend's house that is a few blocks further down the main street than mine to drop something off with her nanny. I hadn't cleared this detour with Connor, and as we passed our street, I heard from the backseat "I think that we forgot to turn onto Connor's street".

10 years

2007-09-13T14:32:00.000-04:00

Ten years ago today, I drug Ed to a "Miss America" watching party, and the rest is history. We're celebrating with a night out at a cool new restaurant. I can almost tell you what will happen before the date even occurs.

Back in our "going-out" days, Ed and I seemed to have a knack for sitting next to people on first dates. We would always overhear snippets of conversation like "So, you said you were a lawyer, what kind of law do you practice?" with the questioner appearing to be very interested in the answer, perhaps wondering how many hours a day the person being asked the question was likely to work. Or, "How many sisters and brothers did you say you had?" - perhaps the questioner was wondering how many children this potential new mate would be interested in having should they hook up for good. And of course, the conversation is loaded with awkward pauses. I always laugh when this happens because (1) I think it happens way too much for us and (2) it reminds me of September 13, 1997.

On this particular night that started our string of eavesdropping on first dates, we sat outside on a rooftop deck and the folks next to us were on a first date. The guy was nervous, the girl thought a little more highly of herself than was perhaps warranted. At one point, the guy dumped a glass of water onto the woman's lap. From her reaction, you would've thought he had just given her a black eye. He felt horrible, she rubbed it in by pretending to be incredibly uncomfortable, and I can't say as Ed and I were all that helpful. There we sat, making snarky comments, thinking we were really funny (and we were!) because clearly the woman was overreacting. This was a hot day in Washington, DC. The water would likely dry before they were finished with appetizers. It was no...big...deal.

At that point, I'm sure the thought we'd be parenting the same child one day never crossed our minds. And parentng any child at all probably didn't occur to Ed. Heck, it wasn't even supposed to be a date because everyone knows that office romances are a BAD IDEA. But sometimes, everyone is wrong, and two people find themselves hanging out watching a baseball game on TV 10 years later and one of them will say to the other "I don't feel like going to work tomorrow. Would you mind having the baby tonight?". Followed by, "Try and do it in the middle of the night because I want to sleep through the whole thing this time, rather than just early labor. I've done it before, you know." (Ed's youngest brother was an unplanned home birth and despite the sirens, lights, and EMTs tromping up the stairs in the middle of the night, Ed apparently seemed not to notice anything as he slept soundly in another bedroom. Now why couldn't he have passed this good sleeping gene onto his son?)

Happy 25 month birthday!

2007-09-12T21:17:00.000-04:00

Dear Connor,

Today, you turned 25 months old. The date sort of snuck up on me because I am feeling the pains of being sleep deprived. I owe part of this to you, part of this to your sister, and part of this to your nanny who needed to go to the ER last night (she’s fine, thankfully). I think it’s safe to say that this was definitely a “daddy month”, which is a bit different than every other month of your life. In part, it’s because you have suddenly realized that we are two people with two different tolerance levels for various things. I can’t even remember what I told you no about, but as soon as I did, you looked right at me and said “Connor need to go see Daddy”. I told you your efforts at manipulation were fruitless because I was going to tell your daddy I had already said no, but you persisted. He’s clearly the softy in the house.

You seem to be coming to terms with the fact that my large belly leaves very little room for you to sit in my lap. After trying many times to sit squarely on my crossed legs like normal, you’ve finally conceded that there is simply not room, and now just go for my knee right away.

We spent this month marking the final days of summer by enjoying splashing in the neighborhood pool and then loving the cool afternoons that are perfect for outdoor adventures. Today though, was your dad’s early day, and after attempting to cajole you into some outdoor time, you decided that playing with his wallet was the very best activity of all. I came home to find you sitting in the chair pulling money out of your dad’s wallet. When you heard me start to open the door, you quickly started shoving the crumpled bills back into your dad’s wallet asking “is there enough room for all de money in Daddy’s wallet? I think there is not enough room. I think I will put it in Mommy’s backpack”. I was fully supportive of this move. Earlier in the week after asking “Where’s Daddy?” you answered your own question by saying “I think Daddy is at work making some money”. I’m very glad that you have put together that it is Mommy’s job to spend that money, which I presume was the reason for your enthusiastic redistribution of wealth today.

You’ve decided that the particular is superior to the general for just about everything. If I tell you something is in my bag, you quickly say “I think that it is called a backpack” or if I say “Look, Connor, there’s a bird” you respond “I think that it is called a pigeon”. I had to remind you one day that I have graduated from grad school and I do know a thing or two about what things are called, but you weren’t buying it for a minute. You also constantly say “I think” before statements and frequently say “I don’t know” even when you know the answer. You also try and mess with your dad and me by calling objects by a different name, which you think is very funny. You get your pronouns correct about half the time – but almost everything still leaves your mouth in the form of a question. You’re turning into one funny dude. Today, I told you that you were not making sense and you smiled and said “Connor IS making sense!”. You also told your daddy earlier in the day “That’s funny…hahahaha”. Sarcasm, Connor, might be your best coping mechanism in this house.

You learned to jump this month. Both feet legitimately leave the ground in tandem and rarely do you end up on your rear end. You show off this new skill to just about anyone who will watch. You can also use the "big swings" by laying on your tummy, you can climb the ladders at the playground, and you no longer flip to your tummy to go down most slides; you prefer to sit upright, instead.

Two notable events happened this month. First, you got a baseball from a baseball player at a baseball game as we sat 6 rows from the field. That was very cool. Second, the same friend of mine who gave us the fancy dan baseball seats took us to a “backstage visit” with the sloth bear at the zoo that he had won at a silent auction. While there, we got to feed the bear mealy worms through a long tube. You didn’t mind at all when the worms crawled around your fingers. Your dad did most of the feeding with you, but I played along a bit, and I didn't even jump or get squeamish once. This is my attempt to not pass on all my irrational fears to you. While watching the sloth bear, you remembered that this sloth bear looks a lot like the moon bear we saw take a swim while we were in Rhode Island last month. How you remember these things, I do not know.

I successfully filmed you performing the Itsy Bitsy Spider, complete with actions, and reading a book – or rather, chanting the words to a book – but I can’t share these great video clips with blog nation because I haven’t figure out how to get them from the DVD recorder to the computer. Let’s just say – you’re one cute kid. Your grandpa thinks if we both have the book memorized it’s probably time to get a new book. So, he sent you a new book, which is very boring, but again – you adore it. I think you might already have it memorized we’ve read it so many times. Thanks, Dad!

Your grandma, on the other hand, sent us much more useful things. She sent a pink blanket that she made for your sister and new clothes for both of you, but the only thing you considered might be for Baby Helen was the outfit that clearly did not fit you. Oh well, she’ll have her claws in all your stuff in no time. I suppose it’s only fair that you let her know you’re taking everything you want out of all packages before she has at them. My mom was surprised that you didn't realize the pink blanket was for Helen, but I don't think the thought ever crossed your mind.

I cannot report that you have become a good eater, but I can report that you eat clams, shrimp, and mussels. What’s that about? You won’t eat mac and cheese from a box, but you’ll eat things that most adults don’t care for.

Enjoy these last few weeks of being an only child, Connor. Pretty soon Helen will be here and it’s not clear any of us will know what hit us for a few months.

Love,
Mommy

The whole baseball experience

2007-09-07T07:30:00.000-04:00

The days at RFK are coming to a close. We won't be watching post-season action involving our home team, because well, that's life for me in baseball. Frankly, I wouldn't know what to do if a team I actually cared about was playing in October. The last time this happened for me was 1985. That was a long time ago.

All in all, Connor has enjoyed the season. He's certainly learned about the finer points of the game, which means he can dig through my bag,
looking for sunglasses or other entertaining items, and he fully understands the purpose of the concession stands and the lovely folks who come around bearing treats during the game. On Wednesday, he shared my lemonade, gobbled some popcorn, and then decided he needed some french fries. (And I wonder why he's hit the growth chart, finally!) At one point during Wednesday's game, we went up a few rows and a guy behind me actually remarked "that's the popcorn eating kid! Man...he made that stuff look good" because apparently he had watched the spectacle known as Connor shoving fistfulls of popcorn in his mouth whenever someone behind us will take notice. Prior to arriving at the game, Ed and Connor had been walking around and a random lady bought him a pack of peanut butter M&Ms from a street vendor, just because he was cute, I guess. Ed tried to pay this kind stranger, but she wouldn't take his money.

But most importantly, on Wednesday, a friend of mine gave me his law firm's tickets to the game. These are great seats - just 6 rows back from the visitor's dugout. Miraculously, we were on time for the game, and that was a good thing. As the visiting team was exiting the field after pre-game warm-up, the shortstop had a ball in his hand and as he looked up into the crowd to see who he could toss it to, Ed stood up, pointed at Connor and said "little guy here". And that baseball player - in mid-throw - changed the direction of his intended throw and tossed the ball right to Connor. Ed caught it, gave the ball to Connor, and Connor lit up. You see, like every other toddler I know, he loves balls. And Ed and I, well, we've always dreamed of getting a ball from a major league player, but we've never been so lucky. Not even the time I went to the San Diego ballpark on my birthday and anniversary and sat close enough that an outfielder could've tossed me one. Ed and I hollered, but we never got a ball.

Connor held onto the ball for a while, but Ed and I were seriously concerned that he would toss it (along with all of our dreams of owning a ball tossed around by an actual major league baseball player) back onto the field. But the next morning, the first words out of Connor's mouth to me were "Connor got a ball from a baseball player! Did we forget to bring the baseball and the baseball glove home last night?" "No Connor, we didn't forget. It's sitting on the dining room table."

And here's a little dance party in the seats!

Elaine

Ducks

2007-09-05T07:29:00.000-04:00

Every few weeks, we head off to the midwife's office to check on Baby Helen. Before Ed and Connor meet me there, they often detour to the waterfront to check on the ducks. Apparently sometimes little birds will eat bread right from Connor's hand! This week, I met them there and we headed to see the midwife together, but not before snapping a few photos.

And as for Baby Helen's transport once she arrives, all I can say is "WATCH OUT!".

Elaine

Sauce making weekend

2007-09-04T07:00:00.000-04:00

A few years ago, Ed and I were at the Farmer's Market lamenting the fact that so many lovely "seconds" tomatoes were being sold so cheaply, and we weren't buying them! So, inspired by my Midwestern heritage and the memory from my childhood of my mother spending a few days each summer in the kitchen canning the approximately 3 million pounds of tomatoes produced in my dad's garden, we took the plunge and purchased a huge basket of tomates. We called my mom, got some canning advice in the hopes that we wouldn't cause anyone who came in contact with our sauce intestinal distress, pulled a few recipes together, and made a grand mess. We had sauce for the year, and much like my childhood (which at the time was certainly taken for granted), we avoided lackluster imitations of the real thing sold at grocery stores. We spent some time discussing what next pioneering feat we would attempt, but as of yet, we've failed to get ourselves off the grid.

Last year, with a one year old in the house, we knew that a big day of canning was not in the cards for us. For one, some stages of canning tomatoes are better done with two people (though my mom manages each year without a helper). And more importantly, we just couldn't bear the thought of bringing a mess into our home. I think Ed's rule was that we were only doing work that needed to be done - not creating work to do.

But this year, those heirloom tomatoes called, so we decided to introduce sauce making to Connor. As shown in the video, he's obviously a natural. And, just so viewers realize we do learn in this house - last weekend we made sauce and Connor took care of the tomatoes inside. This weekend, Ed moved the process outside.

Elaine

When Ed is in charge of bedtime

2007-09-03T11:58:00.000-04:00

I often wonder what goes on when I'm away from Ed and Connor. Apparently, Ed often wonders as well.

Last week, I went to my pottery studio for less than an hour. During this time, Ed had plans to put Connor to sleep. Did I mention Connor sleeps in his own bed...every night? I guess that's one detail that Ed didn't know, because when I got home, I found this:

I looked across the hall into my room, and found this:

The little guy was in such a hurry that he left his blanket on the floor next to the bed. On the bright side, the last time Connor attempted to sleep in my bed, he fell out. This time, he clearly staked out the middle of the king size bed as his territory, lessening the chance that he would plummet off the side at an inconvenient time.

When I asked Ed why Connor was not in his bed, Ed thought I was joking. Ed's claim is that in the few moments it took for him to walk downstairs and turn the monitor on, Connor scampered soundlessly across the hall, and fell asleep. On the bright side, the monitor is so overzealous with its job that Ed could hear Connor's rhythmic breathing as soon as he turned the monitor on, so naturally assumed all was well.

Elaine

A day with Connor

2007-08-27T07:41:00.000-04:00

This is the reason Ed and I are exhausted when we get to work on Monday!

Missed Opportunity

2007-08-25T20:28:00.000-04:00

Now that Ed and I are old, and we're parents, I've started to notice that a few opportunities that were formerly available to us, are just not there anymore. Take going out on the spur of the moment. It's just not possible because we need to arrange for someone to take care of Connor. It's not like I can call Connor and say "Little dude, rather than coming home at 4:00, we're going to stay out drinking until 9:00. Feel free to grab a bottle of milk and head to bed when you get tired, and flip through one of the 15 or so books you've memorized and pretend we're reading it. Oh, and find something healthy for dinner." No, we must come home each night. We also can't dart off on vacation whenever we want, because we have to consider whether the potential pain of disrupting you is worth any joy that might be gained from the vacation.

For the most part, I think Ed and I have pretty much come to terms with these changes. But last weekend, it really hit home how different our lives were. There we were, enjoying the County fair. And indeed, Connor, it was nice to have an excuse to go to the fair other than the fact that I dig County fairs. With you, we have a real-live-walking toddler who can enjoy some of the less scary rides, get excited about riding the train, shove popcorn in his mouth, and all sorts of great fair related things. Connor enjoyed the fair so much with his nanny on Friday that we went on Saturday, and then Ed and Connor went back on Sunday which I had brunch with some friends. You see, we basically had to go on Saturday because the first words out of your mouth to me were "Connor wan to go back to de fair. Connor wan to ride de geen alligator, do de moon bounce, ride de ponies, and ride de merry-go-round". It was almost as if Friday was Connor's scope it out day and Saturday morning was when the fun was going to happen. He repeated the same list to Ed at 8:30 when I decided it was appropriate for Connor to go in and let Ed know of our plans since the fair opened in just 30 short minutes!

So there we were at the fair, with all the other parents of toddlers who think sleeping in is 7:00 (and yes, Connor, we do appreciate anything after 6:00, so 7:00 really was quite wonderful last Saturday and Sunday). Ed and I were remembering how the last time we went to the County fair - before I was pregnant with Connor, we were walking around on Sunday afternoon, with all the childless old people like we used to be that sleep in on Sundays, and an actual carnie asked if we too, would like to be carnies for the evening. He told us that starting at closing time, they were looking for help to tear down all the rides. Pay would be by the hour. To what did we owe this prestigious recognition of our clear hidden talents that this professional carnie could sense instantly we would make excellent carnies? I have no idea. But I do know that not one such job opportunity was presented to us this time around. Clearly, our time to be carnies has passed us by.

But, lest you think we're irresponsible parents, Ed set up the tent in the basement and Connor filled it with balls yesterday afternoon. We think someday Connor might make an excellent ball pit operator and we want him to be able to put list previous exerience on his resume.

Elaine

Open or closed?

2007-08-23T08:00:00.000-04:00

Connor is a bit obsessive. Although annoying at times, it can also be a very good thing, like when it comes to picking toys up. He diligently puts all the cars in the large blue bin, the wooden baking stuff in the large green bin, the necklaces in the previously empty drawer in the workbench, etc. In fact, just the other day Ed was pointing out to me how he had two equal sized bins out and he began putting the animals in one, preparing to put cars in the other. Connor stopped him and pointed out that the animals go in the large green bin, not the one Ed was using. Ed, in all his wisdom, was going to explain to Connor that the bins were the same size so it didn’t matter which one the animals went into, but thought better of it and simply put the animals where Connor requested and the cars in the remaining one.

Sometimes, Connor notices other children are obsessive too, and last Sunday, he preyed on that. Zoe and Connor were enjoying Miles’ kitchen. Connor was opening all the cabinets, and just as quickly, Zoe would close all the cabinets. This went on for a little while, until Connor decided he was tired of opening the cabinets and allowed them to remain closed. But a few minutes later, Zoe, feeling as if she had won the battle of open and close the cabinet was relaxing in Miles’ low-to-the-ground beach chair, when Connor decided he would like to sit there. He looked at Zoe, looked at the cabinet, walked over to the cabinet and opened one door, and then stood beside the now coveted chair. As expected, Zoe quickly got up to close the cabinet, at which point Connor swooped in and sat on the chair and grinned. When Zoe saw him sitting there all pleased with himself, her mouth opened wide with shock and the injustice on her face was clear. Apparently Zoe doesn’t know that sometimes you have to lose the battle (of open / close the cabinets) in order to win the war (sitting in the cool chair). Zoe’s mom’s comment on the scene “your son just duped my kid”!

So I guess Connor is obsessive AND manipulative.

Elaine

News!

2007-08-21T23:00:00.000-04:00

Connor has been engaging in a lot of preparatory activities in anticipation of baby Helen’s arrival. This past weekend, we went to the farm, per his request, and he insisted on bringing his baby with the baby’s stroller, because I guess he figured we all ought to get used to carrying a bunch of extra stuff. Maybe he’s worried that since Ed and I rarely bring the stroller when it’s just the three of us that we don’t understand what it takes to transport a baby.

This afternoon, he was very excited to open up a box containing shelves for baby Helen’s room and help put them together – though I tried to talk him out of this activity as I would much prefer Ed be the shelf constructor in the family. After we got the shelves put together, I pulled out a box of baby toys and we tossed them on the shelves, but only after Connor assured me that baby Helen would share her toys with him. When Connor noticed a book that I used to read to him every day when he was a baby, he got very excited (a book, mind you, that has been in his room until about a month ago that he hasn't paid any attention to) and asked me to read it, about 10 times. I'm hoping he's just making sure he has every action and word memorized so he can read it to Helen once she arrives.

But yesterday was really exciting. We are currently sharing a nanny with a toddler a couple of months younger than Connor. This toddler happens to have a baby sister who doesn’t come over, except to drop off and pick the toddler up. When I arrived home yesterday, the baby was in her carrier on the front porch and Connor was standing right beside it about ready to jump out of his own skin with excitement. As soon as I got to where Connor was he announced with joy "Baby Helen is finally here!". I sat down and took a look and explained that this was actually baby Sasha. Connor then looked at me very seriously and said "Baby Helen is still in Mommy's tummy. Baby Helen is getting bigger and bigger. Baby Helen needs to get a little bit bigger before she can come out." He seemed a little disappointed that he couldn't share the great news of Helen's arrival with me, but he also seemed to understand that we were all just in for more waiting.

As we were walking inside, Connor said to me "I think we should take baby Sasha inside the house", at which point baby Sasha's mom said she'd be OK on the porch. Then Connor ran and got a little ball and announced "Connor goin' to throw de ball at baby Sasha!". While baby Sasha's mom had a bit of panic at the thought of Connor beaning her 3 month old with a ball and started to tell Connor "no!", I explained to Connor that baby Sasha couldn't catch a ball yet, so it would be more fun to play catch with me. I thought baby Sasha's mom didn't quite appreciate that Connor had opted to get a small soft ball and indicate his intentions before baby Sasha took one in the chin. He could've just grabbed a baseball and given it a fling - what I fear he might do once baby Helen finally does arrive afte she annoys him one too many times.

Elaine

Telling your first story

2007-08-15T22:06:00.000-04:00

When I was pregnant with Connor, Ed and I decided we would sign up for a membership to our neighborhood pool. It's the nearest pool to our home and the hours are much better than the public pool. Sadly, the waiting list was a couple of years long - and I understand from a friend that it's only gotten longer.

At the beginning of summer, we got an e-mail from the woman in charge of membership, and we were offered an "August membership". For a reduced rate, we're able to use the pool on weekdays in August and however long they stay open in September. Ostensibly, this is because many members go away in August and demand for the pool goes down.

We decided to purchase the membership because it would allow us to compare the public pool with the neighborhood pool so we would know which to join in the future. From the outside, the two pools don't even compare to one another. The public pool was rebuilt last winter and it now has waterslides, sprayers, and the toddler pool has little fountains in it. It definitely looks more fun. The neighborhood pool, on the other hand, has none of these features, but it does have a picnic area and a playground. I would've guessed Connor would like the public pool best. I was wrong. At the public pool, he wants to go for exactly 45 minutes - and he wants no part of anything outside the toddler pool (though he would like to go down the waterslides approved for people 48 inches or taller). The neighbhorhood pool, however, has somehow captured Connor's imagination. I have to drag him out of the pool long after his toes and fingers have turned to prunes. He regularly wants to jump into the big pool, and he adores seeing Ed catapult himself off the diving board.

Today while we were swimming, Connor took a moment to sit by the side of the neighorhood pool with me. He looked up, and told what I believe is his first story.

"Once upon a time, there were two frogs who were sitting on Connor's lap. The frogs jumped into the pool and went swimming under the water. Then they came and sat on Mommy's lap."

OK - so not much on plot, but the story came complete with actions which were very fun to watch. I guess it's a no-brainer, we go with the neighborhood pool next year if this is the sort of inspiration it brings Connor.

Elaine

Happy 2nd Birthday

2007-08-14T21:41:00.000-04:00

Dear Connor,

A couple of days ago, you turned two, and I‘m not certain that I ever really knew it could be this good. As a coworker of mine noted shortly before you were born - all the negatives of having children are apparent before you have children, but the positives are a lot harder to see. And, as I get closer to giving birth to your little sister, I think a lot about how hard those first six months were. Your dad and I both agree though, you’re worth all the sleepless nights, worry, and all the other crud that comes with having a baby (and even the occasional toddler crud). Hopefully your sister will be too - and if not, I guess we can see if your Aunt Linda will take her for a few months. But Connor, you should know, we wouldn’t change a thing.

I don’t know if eventually you’ll hit the renowned “terrible twos” but so far, I see few signs. It could be that you are intentionally postponing them as you insist that you are three, not two. (And I suppose you did have three birthday parties, which should be worth at least an extra year.) Lately, you’ve been a pretty sweet little dude. One day this past month, you were munching on some of the Smarties one of your grandmas gave you (there‘s a stash from both of them at this point), and you reached in your little baggie that held your beloved Smarties, pulled out a purple one, almost put it in your mouth, but instead got a huge grin on your mouth and handed it to me. Now Connor, I do not like Smarties. I don’t even quite know why I gave you some to begin with, except it seemed like something you might like. But I was so touched by your generosity, that I stuck that candy in my mouth, grinned, and enjoyed it. A few days later, I was preparing to go to yoga and you ran into the kitchen and requested a bottle of water from your dad. You then ran out to catch me before I left the house and gave it to me, because you have observed that I always take a bottle of water with me. Now, if you could just stop playing with your food and requesting and then refusing to eat items, your dad and I could keep from losing our minds.

Having you around this month has been like having a nonstop Jeopardy! game going on. You have decided to start almost all of your phrases with questions. For example, if you decide to go downstairs, rather than saying “Connor goin to go downstairs in de basement” like you would’ve said last month you say “Is Connor goin to go downstairs to de basement?”. It’s not clear to me how I’m supposed to respond to this series of endless questions, but you talk so much that it’s not clear to me you’re really looking for a response.

You have become expert at opening presents, and you’ve internalized that there could always be yet another present on the way. It’s not so much that you were disappointed in the loot you hauled in over the past three weeks of weekly birthday celebrations, but after the last cupcake had been digested, you did tell your dad you would like a pussycat for your birthday. I suggested perhaps a fish would do - and while you thought a fish was pretty good, you thought a pussycat AND a fish would be even better. Keep dreaming, friend. And grandparents reading this - if you decide to get Connor a cat, you will also be deciding for Connor to no longer have a mother.

On the 11th, you got up nice and early which worked out fine, because we hadn’t made your birthday cake yet - a task I knew you would love. You decided we should have cupcakes, and that was a fabulous choice because the last time we were at the grocery store you decided we needed three packages of cupcake/muffin papers. Might as well use ‘em up, I suppose. Plus, this allowed us to make a special frosting-free cupcake for you Aunt Linda. You decided we should frost them with red frosting, which is the one color of food dye that I didn’t have - but your Uncle Bill kindly offered to head to Safeway and acquire red dye for us. Dyeing the frosting red was so exciting, you wanted to put another color in. At first you suggested green, but I told you we needed to go with a primary color so we didn't end up with brown frosting. Eventually we settled on blue in order to make purple. Although you quite enjoyed licking the frosting from the beater, you were back to your old mantra when it came time to eat the cupcake “Connor no like frosting”. Good thing we made more than one cupcake without frosting.

Perhaps your greatest achievement this month is that you officially kicked that stupid growth chart to the moon - or at least to the far out suburbs. At your two year appointment, which unlike the rest of your appointments occurred before the actual date, you were in the…get this…10th percentile for weight. Nothing short of a miracle, I tell you. You maintained your 75th percentile height and your head now exceeds the 90th percentile. I’m sure the latter is because you’re so darn smart.

You freak your dad and me out regularly when you wake up talking about the same thing you went to bed talking about. It is not at all unusual for you to say “Mommy came back” when you see me first thing in the morning if I have come home from yoga after you go to bed - or simply to tell us exactly what game you want to play. It is always the same game you went to bed asking us to play, as if you merely pause your brain for over 9 hours while you sleep, without actually turning it off or resetting it.

From the bottom of our hearts, your dad and I hope you had a great year - and wish you many more great years in the future. We both love you so much - and not just because you’ve finally learned to sleep like a normal person, but because you are such a wonderful addition to our lives.

Love,
Mommy

PS - I know the post was a few days late, but it’s taken that much time to calm down from all the partying we did this weekend.

Becoming that kind of mom

2007-08-08T21:45:00.000-04:00

We all know her. She's the one who looks at you when you try and give her child something like you are a total and complete idiot who doesn't know a thing about kids. And, before you had kids, you would look back at her like she needed to get a grip on reality. You wanted to say to her "it really doesn't matter if the red fruit touches the orange fruit...your child can cope". But, you kept your mouth shut because you knew that someday, you might have your own child, and empowered by that knowledge, something deep down inside you told you it was better to separate the two pieces of fruit and then pass the previously offensive plate to her child.

And now, you (ahem I), am so glad I did not roll my eyes at that mom and offer my poignant advice to her. On the flight to Rhode Island, Ed, Connor, and I all had drinks. Starting a few weeks ago, Connor has decided he does not like ice, and refuses to drink anything with ice in it. I have, of course, used this to my advantage, and now put a few cubes of ice in almost everything I drink just so he keeps out. Ed, however, has apparently not been privvy to Connor's ice protests and on the plane, he blew it. Ed combined his remaining ice with Connor's ice free apple juice. When he made this bold move, I looked at him in a panic. And I said to him, as if I was JFK speaking to Khrushchev during the Cuban Missile Crisis, "you just put ICE in Connor's drink". And Ed looked at me like "yeah?", and I hissed at him, "Connor does not like ice in his drink". And all I could think about was the fact that we were trapped on a small plane with an occasionally irrational toddler who may look up at any moment and notice his drink had been tainted with the dreaded ice, and all hell could easily break loose. And I, of course, would be the one that had to deal with the aftermath.

And it was then that I realized, I was her. The crazy mom who thought the entire world should bend to please her toddler, even if his requests were completely insane.

Elaine

Why my sister-in-law might want to consider party-planning as a new career

2007-08-01T15:07:00.001-04:00

Connor is learning the benefits of having extended family extended across the continent. Two weekends ago, my parents visited, and along with them came many gifts AND an enormous chocolate chip cookie with Connor's name on it. We sang, we ate the cookie, in general - we celebrated.

This week, my in-laws took their turn spoiling their grandson. On day two, Connor opened a few presents, played with the toys, and was starting to get into this present opening thing. Within a couple of days, he actually looked up and said "Connor ready to open more presents", because I guess he's realized where there are grandparents, there are presents.

Last night, Ed's grandfather and Aunt joined us at the beach. Before the evening's festivities, Connor did a little cleaning around the place.
My mother-in-law got a cake - and it made a big enough impression that Connor let me know that he would like to have another piece for breakfast. Yes Connor - sure - I'll be hurling in the bathroom over the thought of this while you OD on sugar before your dad has even gotten out of bed.

The cake, however, was nothing compared to what my sister-in-law had planned for the evening. First, we were instructed to take rubber bands and fasten them in a pattern around a white t-shirt. Connor dictated where the rubber bands would go while I fastened them. I think he did excellent work. Next, we dipped the t-shirt and poured ink from bowls.
Today, we removed the rubber bands - and this is what we got!

Elaine

Remembering

2007-07-24T08:22:00.001-04:00

Connor has a way of remembering things that don't make a big impression on anyone else. A couple of days ago, when my parents were visiting, he wanted to go play golf with them. On the way to the mini golf course, he told me "Connor goin' to have the tiger ball!", and indeed, when we played mini golf with my family in Missouri last month, he did have a tiger striped ball. Sadly, no such balls existed at our local course.

He's also been employing his memory in the recall of songs and stories. A couple of months ago we checked out Goldilocks from the library. It was a particularly bad version (poor grammar, hideous illustrations) but regularly, Connor tries to bring it home again. I keep putting it back on the shelf before we leave because I can't stand the thought of it being in my house again. But alas, Connor has enlisted his nanny in the fight to bring Goldilocks back by telling her he needed it from the library, which prompted her to tell me, and for the last few days he's requested it. This afternoon, we will go to the library and hopefully find a version we can both live with. He'll also start singing "Da wheels on da bus" and he has two books that if you push a button, a song plays, so he'll open those up, push the button, and start chanting the words.

This morning though, he looked at me and said "gamma and gampa fly home on de big airplane"..."gamma goin to send Connor candy in da mail". My mom mentioned this one day when he had a pack of Smarties, and clearly the boy has not forgotten.

I think it's safe to say his memory already exceeds his daddy's, and it won't be long until it exceeds his mommy's as well.

Elaine

PS: Sorry about the lack of photos. I failed to take out my camera this weekend - and on Sunday night, I set my laptop on top of a high shelf and moments later, watched it plunge to its death. Thankfully, a friend browbeat Ed and I into purchasing the super-deluxe warranty package, so in two weeks time I will have a new laptop. Even more thankfully, Ed backed up the computer a few weeks ago, so even if there is damage to my hard drive, I won't lose that much.

He's fine...

2007-07-20T13:54:00.000-04:00

We went to the pediatrician yesterday. I arrived late, which meant no wait (bonus!) and my pediatrician was super nice. She was much more worried about the excessive milk consumption of the past few weeks, months? I can hardly remember how long it's been, than she was about the sudden drop. She was worried that he might have anemia from all the milk, but he passed the test - woohoo! His iron levels are on the low side of normal - but higher than when he was last tested. Connor liked the band-aid that had a pussy cat on it. She also warned that at some point, he might decide he would only eat one food item for an entire week, and while this would be equally alarming, unless I felt he was sick, I shouldn't let it bother me. Being a very brave soul, she looked inside his mouth and as it turns out, Connor has 4 more teeth coming in.

Because it was the end of the day, and there were no other patients around, I got to chat with my pediatrician a bit while Connor busied himself with playing in the play area and we were waiting for the results of the iron test. It was really nice - and definitely made me happy about switching to her as Connor's primary pediatrician. We had a laid back conversation about diet, and discipline, and home births, and health care in general. Inspired by the movie SICKO and the fact that house calls are a regular part of a doctor's world in France (who she strongly believes has a superior health care system than we do here in the US) she said she would love to come to my home to visit the baby when she arrives, rather than having me bring her into the office. Typically, pediatricians made rounds at the hospital for new clients, but I had to bring Connor into the office when he was 3 days old, and back again when he was 1 week old since we were never in the hospital. Only possible glitch in the plan is that my pediatrician only works 1.5 days per week. She said she would talk to Dr. G (my former pediatrician) and see if she could convince him to do a house call if he was on duty. So now, besides desperately hoping this baby arrives early and makes the school cut-off of September 30, I'm also hoping she comes on Friday - which means my new target birth date is September 28. That's not asking too much, is it?

Elaine

Milk Strike

2007-07-19T07:31:00.000-04:00

Up until two days ago, Connor was the champion of milk drinkers. He may not eat, but the boy can drink (taking after his father, I might add, who can be the champion of drinking other things that come in a bottle). Connor was going through more than 2 gallons of whole milk - in a week. For reference, a bottle for Connor is 4-6 ounces. Two gallons of milk is 256 ounces, or about 36 ounces per milk, per day. For a while, I was getting really concerned about all the milk consumption, but Ed and I both figured that it's high fat (a good thing for our skinny child), so as long as we make sure what little food he does eat has iron in it, he's probably going to get everything he needs. And hey, it probably is the most efficient way for him to get the necessary calories - at least until he has more teeth. And don't think for a minute we were the source of all this milk drinking. We never offered Connor a bottle, instead, we waited for him to ask for one.

But two days ago Connor went on a milk strike. On Monday, he refused to drink his bottle at bedtime. Instead, he acted like he was drinking it, demanded a second bottle, but the first hadn't been touched. Thinking something was wrong with the milk or bottle, I tested both, and didn't notice anything obvious. I got him another bottle from the refrigerator, poured from a different milk container - just in case the gallon I had poured the first from was somehow "off-tasting" to Connor. It didn't help. He had an enormous amount of milk earlier in the day so I didn't think much of it.

Tuesday, the milk strike continued. In total, he drank about 12 ounces. He did not have his morning bottle (which is sometimes two bottles) nor did he have any milk at the baseball game or in the car home from the baseball game (when I would've expected him to have at least 3 bottles). Wednesday, same story.

So...now it's Thursday and I'm wondering when I should panic? He has had no milk since Ed came home from work at 4:00 yesterday. Should I just be happy that Connor is getting down to the recommended amount of milk each day - even though he doesn't appear to be consuming more food? Should I be grateful that he seems to have kicked the night time bottle and goes to sleep without it? What does it mean when he asks for a bottle but then only drinks a couple of sips and asks me to get another one? We have now tried three separate containers of milk. We're getting nervous around here. (And just after I was so excited when I weighed him the other day and it seemed as if he was going to easily stay on the weight charts for his 2 year appointment next month.) I should note that Connor still looks and acts fine, though he was a bit crabby this morning and the news that we didn't have any papers to cook the muffins in made him burst into tears. Really, Connor, it's OK to put the batter directly into the pan.

Elaine

Happy 23 Month Birthday!

2007-07-12T07:33:00.000-04:00

Dear Connor,

Today, you turned 23 months old, which means in only one short month you will be two. Now that will be a milestone to celebrate – and we will definitely par-tay with your cousins! I’m breaking out the cotton candy machine for this event – a machine you’ve never before witnessed in action. I have hidden this machine from your cousins only because I didn’t want your Aunt and Uncle to have a heart attack when I pulled it out. But now I have an actual reason to bust out the machine, and it’s going to be great.

This month, you spent a lot of time showing your dad and me that you know all about opposites. You started out the month telling us “no” just as a matter of course, to whatever we asked. Unless we tried to get clever and reverse the sentence, as in “Do you want to stay up late?” and then you would happily reply “Connor wan’ to stay up late”. By the end of the month, you had reintroduced the word “yes” into your vocabulary and were using it quite often, but decided that you would say the opposite of everything else we said. For example, if I say “Connor, please get in the car” you will repeat back “Connor, please get out of the car” without missing a beat.

You are now officially in your “new, big room”, which was formerly the playroom. Your dad and you installed shelves in the closet (you got to run the cordless drill!) so we were able to stash many of your toys in there. We even put the whole bed together so now rather than camping out on a mattress on the floor as if you are a refugee in your own home, you look as if you’re actually planning to stay a while. You can’t quite climb up on the bed unassisted, so we pushed your toybox close enough to the bed that you don’t have to be a performer in Cirque du Soleil to climb up on it and jump to your bed. Getting off your bed poses no troubles, and on Saturday morning you tested that by going to the kitchen and calling downstairs for your daddy at 5:20 AM. The words “Daddy, Daddy” have never sounded so sweet, as it made your dad feel completely obligated to go fetch you and allowed me to stay in bed guilt-free. Normally, you come straight into my room and look me in the eye demanding a bottle, but apparently you knew you were up in the middle of the night and you figured your daddy was still down in the basement partying like he does every night after you go to bed. Your dad wisely got out of bed and took you back to your bed and tried to sleep with you until the wake-up light turned on. You hung out with him for a bit, and then came and hung out with me – and you snuggled up and really did give going back to sleep the old college try (though ultimately failed), but you didn’t get up for good until AFTER the magical light came on at 6:00, so you get points for that. Sunday, you made it in your room until after 6:00.

You took it easy on us this past weekend. Normally, naps are just a complete disaster around us. You complain about having to take one, you insist your dad or I sleep with you, and sometimes you just flat out refuse to sleep, even though you are exhausted. The only sure way to get you to sleep is to go on a car ride, but then the nap only lasts about 45 minutes, and if we try to move you from the car to your bed, you wake up and refuse to go back to sleep, on top of seeming angry that someone woke you. Two weekends ago, you took a short car nap but by 4:00 in the afternoon, it was clear you needed more sleep. But, naturally, you refused, so we decided to go swimming and cross our fingers that we could get you into bed earlier than usual. I started to drive to the swimming pool and within two blocks you were completely asleep. Two blocks, Connor. It takes most people two blocks to get comfortable in the car and you acted as if someone had just landed the final punch in a heavyweight boxing match. It was very difficult for your dad and me not to scream when this happened. But this past weekend, Connor, was totally different. On both Saturday and Sunday, you simply told us “Connor wan’ a bottle in da big, tall bed” and you promptly got in bed and fell asleep. That rocked. It allowed us to actually catch up on work around the house while you slept so we could play even more with you when you were awake. I think it was a win-win for everyone, except I did sort of miss having an excuse to take a nap.

You are incredibly close to being able to jump, and I do believe you accomplished the feat twice on Sunday while imitating the golden tamarinds at the z-o-o. (A couple of weeks ago, our friend Scott thought he was talking in code to your dad when he asked if you would be up for a trip to the z-o-o and your dad had to inform him that you can already spell zoo, so he wasn’t tricking anyone.) And that wasn’t the only exciting thing that happened in the small mammal house. We went up to the shrew cage – excuse me – the elephant shrew as you were so quick to correct me when I had called it a boring old “shrew” – and the elephant shrew charged at the glass, and this startled you, and you were not going to take any chances so you quickly put me between you and the dangerous elephant shrew. Your dad and I both told you that the elephant shrew couldn’t get you (well, actually, your dad tried to trick you into putting extra sunscreen on by saying that it kept the animals away from you, but I rolled my eyes and busted your dad for that lie and told you it only kept the sun from hurting your skin because frankly, I don’t want to relive the great elephant shrew near attack every time I pull out the sunblock, plus I don’t even think this passed the two year old laugh test for reasonable). For the remainder of your time in the small mammal house, you would walk up to an animal and then repeat “animals can’t get Connor” over and over as if you were trying to convince yourself it was true. You were definitely skeptical and kept your eyes peeled for any strange movements. But really, that excitement was nothing like last week when we met Teo at the zoo. In the large mammal house, two gorillas were having sex or “wrestling” as all the other parents kept telling their innocent children, and watching that kept your attention for quite a while.

You taught your dad and me that saying something even once is enough to imbed it into your vocabulary. When you use the potty chair, you are instructed to tuck your penis in because I do not want to be cleaning up pee all over. One night, your dad flippantly told you to tuck your wiener in, and this was terribly funny to you – so funny that you now refer to your penis as your wiener dog. Thanks, Dad. Always one to see the bright side, Daddy is looking forward to the next time he sees a wiener dog with you around and you refer to it as a penis dog.

You’re coming to realize that maybe your dad and I aren’t as funny as we think we are, but we love the laughs. On one car trip this month, you spent the whole ride in the backseat practicing your laugh. Later that day, when your dad was home, you used your new laugh. Next month, I suspect you’ll practice your belching and farting because what man can get by without those skills?

In this house, we play to our strengths, and that means your dad does the grocery shopping. You used to go with him, but ever since you realized that you can take stuff off the shelf and put it in the cart, the trip has required a bit more supervision. Sometimes, we go to a store that has a shopping cart with a two-seater car on the front – with two steering wheels, two doors that open and close, and two horns. Driving this thing is akin to driving an 18-wheeler down a bike path. Your dad gives us a limited number of items to acquire, while he runs around and does the majority of the shopping, checking in with us and filling up the cart. At each item on our list, you wait for me to stop the cart, you open the door, exit, close the door, acquire the item (and anything nearby that looks particularly good), toss it in the cart, open the door, sit down, and close the door. This is not the fastest way to get through a grocery store, but it’s the most fun! Of course, sometimes you take it a bit too far. For example, the milk and eggs are within arm’s reach of each other, but you insisted on getting back in the cart and driving to the milk rather than taking the energy to walk there – all of two steps – after we had gotten the eggs. You’re a very precious little guy, Connor, but this was a bit ridiculous for even me.

You’ve also decided that sitting in the backseat of the car is for the birds. One day, you promptly climbed right into the passenger seat and I said “dude, you need to sit in the back” and you looked up and me and said with all seriousness “dude, Connor need to sit in da front”, which at least allowed you to sit there until your dad and I stopped laughing. You buckle your own car seat belt and stroller belt, you climb up to your booster seat on your own for meals, and you try to comb your hair on your own – because, after all, you are almost two. You’re either getting taller, or stretchier, or both, because you can now acquire many items off the kitchen countertops that were previously out of reach. You also taught yourself how to unlatch the dishwasher so your dad had to explain about the lights and the hot water inside. Sometimes, you pick out your own clothes and the combinations are groovy!

You started swimming lessons and “Mama J” is actually trying to teach you some skills. So far, you have mastered safe entry and safe exit, will tolerate floating on your front with a parent’s arms supporting you but you are not about to relax on your back with a parent’s arms supporting you for very long – unless your very clever daddy puts Elmo on your tummy. I forced your dad to make a pact with me that he would never, no matter what, do that thing where the parent stands 10 feet away from the kid and asks the kid to swim to him, and then when the kid is almost there, keeps backing up and then acts all proud when the kid makes it the length of the pool. I know we’re a few years away from that, but that is my singular worst swimming memory ever and if a teacher ever tells me to do that I’m going to tell that teacher to stick it up his/her rear and I had to make sure your dad would do the same.

Your energy level constantly amazes your dad and me. It doesn’t seem possible that one person could find so many things so much fun. We both love it when you look up and run screaming around with excitement for no apparent reason except – you can! We’re looking forward to many more fun adventures and can’t wait to whoop it up with you next month!

Love,
Mommy

Making the most of the long days

2007-07-10T19:57:00.000-04:00

This afternoon, Connor and I went to a JW Tumbles class on a “free trial” basis. This is the third such class we’ve attended. I’m assuming at some point they’ll actually make me pay for my free trial class – but so far, so good. The class has some fun components, but it’s expensive and not really our style. For one thing, despite all this fun equipment being scattered on the sides of the room, the first 15 minutes of class are consumed with singing songs and stretching, and other random group activities. Since Connor has been asking to go to yoga with me, I told him the stretching part was like yoga and he looked at me like I was nuts to go there. Next, the leader teaches a “skill”, which in today’s case meant flipping Connor over as if he were performing a somersault, and after Connor ran back to the shoe cubby and had a few jelly beans, he enjoyed the somersault. Then it’s free play time, and that’s actually pretty fun, because you get to run around and play with whatever you want. The leaders bring out different toys to play on, and at one point they brought out a “roller coaster” which is a little car that goes down a ramp with a couple of bumps, and that was cool enough that Connor actually waited in line for his turn - twice.

Connor also tried the monkey bars, and he did manage to hang on to the first rung under his own power. Ed and I have noticed that he’s gotten a lot stronger lately, but I didn’t think he had a chance at performing this feat. When the leader told him to move one hand to the next rung, he looked at her as if she was insane, and I said "that sounds like crazy talk, doesn't it?" and thus ended his time on the monkey bars. Then we went back into a circle and the leader announced it was “separation time” and invited the parents to move out of the circle and watch their kids interact with the others. Connor is perfectly happy to explore on his own, but we don’t do “separation time”. Particularly when it means Connor goes into a little ball pit with a girl that was much bigger than him who promptly attempted to shove him out. I told “Sage” to stop pushing that it wasn’t nice. I can’t say if Sage’s mom was silently condoning the ferocity of her child or if she didn’t see the maneuver that was worthy of the WWF. In any case, she sat idly by. Ed's comment when I related the scene to him was "kids are jerks". We don't have an explanation for why Connor doesn't push back and I don't think I've ever seen him initiate a shoving match, though I have seen him try and steal a toy from another kid a few times. But every time he is shoved, he promptly comes and gets me so that there is a monitor on hand should he get shoved again. Since Connor was one of the younger ones in the class, when he did light up and go running toward a little car to ride on, some other kid got there first, which sort of bummed him out. Because, after all, if Connor wanted it, the car must be pretty cool. It was fun to go because I was exhausted, the weather was bad, and this was a nice indoor activity that Connor could participate in and get out lots of energy. He enjoyed climbing up into a little pirate ship and climbing a ladder to the “attic” and then sliding down.

Since Connor has moved his bedtime to 8:30, rather than 8:00, we had time for a stroller ride after dinner before bath. We were going to visit “the rocks”, but once he got seated, Connor decided he wanted to go to the park. So off we went. Ed revived an old favorite game of sliding Connor down some bars and Connor and I hung out on the slide.

Isn't summer fabulous?
Elaine

Almost tasting victory

2007-07-07T19:53:00.000-04:00

My dad has an amazing garden. Ed and I have a pathetic garden. This year, I thought things might be different because Connor is quite diligent at watering every night. And, for a while, things were looking pretty good. But then, Connor and I started doing other things after I got home in the afternoon, so the watering took a backseat. However, I never stopped watering the hydroponic system that holds two tomato plants. So this year, I can proudly announce that I have the FIRST of the family tomatoes that was ready to eat. I called my mom to break the news to her so that she could find a gentle way to tell my dad that this year – he is the LOSER in the first large tomato of the year contest. Sadly, by the time Ed picked the tomato later that day, it seems a bird had already decided it was time to eat that tomato. Guess this means my dad still has a chance to win the first family home-grown tomato actually eaten by the grower. Sigh.

Elaine

Cruising

2007-07-03T19:54:00.000-04:00

with wheels!

The Hammacher Schlemmer Catalog

2007-07-02T22:00:00.000-04:00

"Connor and I need motorized powerboats."
"You can have motorized powerboats when I get a swimming pool."

flipping through more pages

"Did you notice this? It's a remote controlled pool skimmer. ... Of course, if I were in charge, I would just get a trained seal."
"Would that go with the trained goat you want to get so you don't have to mow the lawn anymore?"

"Maybe instead we'll just stick with taking Connor to the playground / sprayground."

Someone has to get this mulch moved!

2007-06-30T08:41:00.000-04:00

A few weeks ago, inspiration struck. Ed and I decided we needed to mulch all of our garden beds, which means we needed to weed all of our garden beds, and remove any dead plants, and generally get the yard cleaned up.

Since then, Connor has learned to identify most weeds found in the garden - and while he might not pull the root out when he gives the weed a tug, he at least doesn't pull plants out that will at some point produce flowers.

Last Friday, the dumptruck of mulch arrived. It was cool, but not nearly as cool as I thought Connor would think it was. But once I told him we would be moving that mulch with our wheelbarrow "weebawo", then it was very cool.

Saturday morning we got to work. I continued pulling weeds while Ed filled his giant wheelbarrow, and Connor filled his smaller wheelbarrow.

Then the two of them would find places needing mulch and drop off their loads - preparing to return for more. Connor would often stay behind and spread mulch between the plants, which is actually an excellent job for him - aided by the hoe he got last week at the grocery store. (Did I mention that Connor now realizes he can get just about everything he wants at the grocery store - including gummy vitamins and candy? That's what he told me a few nights ago, anyway.)

Once it got unbearably hot, we threw on our swimsuits, slathered the sunscreen on, and splashed around in the pool.

On Sunday, Ed actually spent about 6 consecutive hours spreading mulch, while Connor and I played at the park, had a snack, and took a nap.

Elaine

Take me out to the ball game!

2007-06-29T08:01:00.001-04:00

Pre-game activity: Go to the playplace - a large indoor play area that has a bunch of toys geared toward the 1-4 year old crowd. Connor actually knows this is near the stadium so if I mention to him that we're going to go to a baseball game, he instantly tells me "Connor goin' to go to the playplace to vacuum!" (his favorite toy there) and by the time he gets to the end of the sentence, he's practically squealing with delight.

First inning: Arrive at ballgame. Pick up veggie hotdog for me (yes, they actually sell these, which Ed firmly believes signals the decline of baseball), slice of cheese pizza for Ed, and bag of popcorn for Connor. This is actually the smallest size they sell at the stadium! Look over to see Connor actually watching the game.

Second inning: Continue eating popcorn and realize how much Ed and Connor have in common.

Third inning: Start to squirm. Be thankful our seats are in a very uncrowded section. Begin to make friends with anyone sitting nearby as they watch Connor enjoy the games of "seat up, seat down", "climb over the back of the seat", "smile at anyone who notices", etc. Hope all these new friends realize they should pick their beers up...soon.

Fourth inning: Time for the racing Presidents. Watch Teddy lose again.

Fifth inning: Look for the big chicken. (The mascot is actually an eagle, but it it certainly looks as much like a giant chicken as an eagle.)

Sixth inning: Take a lap around the stadium with daddy.

Seventh inning: Decide it's time for bed. Scrounge around mom's bag looking for anything soft to lay down on. Come up with a diaper. Decide it will do just fine.

Eighth inning: Renewed energy! Take a lap with mom, then watch the rest of the inning explaining to mom "dat guy throw da ball", "dat guy try to hit da ball", and when the batter meets with failure "one more time", until Mom declares the inning is over.

Ninth inning: Exit the ballpark, watch fireworks signaling a win from the parking lot. Fall asleep about two blocks from home.

Elaine

It might not be Harvard, but…

2007-06-27T07:41:00.000-04:00

Yesterday, I finally got in touch with the local Waldorf school. Morning pre-school every day seemed a bit excessive at age 2, but I think Connor would enjoy something we could do together, particularly after the baby arrives. What I really want is a program that fosters creative play and imagination. The Waldorf parent-child program seemed to fit the bill. The catch? The class is for children who are at least 2.5 at the start of the school year. Since my little man will turn 2 in August, he clearly doesn’t fit the bill. I initially called the school to see if perhaps he could begin the program during second semester when he’d be closer to 2.5, and the administrator suggested I talk to the teacher of the class – but no, the age limit applies to children at the start of first semester, so it wouldn’t be different if we started later.

I talked to the class teacher yesterday, and she has provisionally admitted Connor to the parent-child class starting in September. We will attend one morning a week. It will be an excellent opportunity for me to hone my bread-making and other domestic skills and Connor can choose to participate in these activities with me and the other parents, or play with his peers and his teacher. We’re on a month-to-month basis. If the teacher or I don’t think it’s working out, we’ll simply drop out. The big thing the teacher will be observing is whether when the other children in the class start to move to interactive as opposed to parallel play, Connor joins in. Only downside I can see so far is that Waldorf children do not watch television, and I was definitely considering introducing TV to Connor when he turned 2 so that I could possibly sleep in a bit on the weekends while he was babysat by those magical moving pictures.

For those who don’t know, Waldorf education is the crunchiest of the crunchy, and I’m very excited for the indoctrination to begin. Should Connor continue with the Waldorf school, he will eventually learn to knit, play a pentatonic flute, and likely never be exposed to a standardized test as a regular part of his education (though Waldorf students tend to score quite high on standardized tests such as the SAT, relative to their peers). For now, we’re only considering it for pre-school, but I’m often reminded in this world of child-raising to never say never. Plus, when my sister reads this, I want her to be able to roll her eyes as much as possible at the thought of my kid going to a school like this, and if I totally disavow the notion that I could send Connor there through high school, it won’t have nearly as big an effect. And, another side bonus is that it’ll give my dad – the retired engineer who appreciates a little structure in life - an opportunity to perform an internet search to figure out what the heck I’m planning for his only grandson. I presume my dad wants this task as he told me a couple of days ago that he planned to wake-up at 5:15 to go golfing with some friends. 5:15! That’s earlier than even Connor manages most days. Dude must need something to do. (Of course, I’m very much looking forward to my parent’s upcoming visit because they always volunteer for morning baby duty, so I’m in no way suggesting my dad should start sleeping later, just that he likely needs tasks to fill all those awake hours!)

Elaine

Crowded out!

2007-06-22T11:30:00.000-04:00

When I became a mom, I often felt like a was getting crowded from all sides. Connor needed my attention constantly, Ed and I had the balance or our lives completed disrupted, and overall - it felt like we had much more to do and much less time to do it in. We still feel this way sometimes - but it's getting a lot easier. Connor will often hang out in the backyard while I start cooking dinner (and by cooking, I mean heating up whatever Ed cooked the night before while I was putting Connor to bed, catching up on work, or picking up toys, mail, etc that seems to accumulate around the house). I still feel crowded out sometimes - like when Connor spends the whole day repeating whatever I say, but I know there are traits that I possess that Ed and Connor will never possess.

One dynamic in our relationship that hasn't changed up until now is that I am the spacey one, and Ed is the organized one. Before we were married, I told Ed I wanted a nice engagement ring, and Ed pointed out that this was like throwing thousands of dollars down a drain because I would no doubt lose it within a month or two. At dinner that night, I tried to persuade him how responsible I could be - and he almost bought it, until the waiter chased me down as I was leaving the restaurant letting me know I had left my wallet behind, we walked out to the car and realized all the CDs had been stolen (INCLUDING ABBA GOLD!) because I had left the doors unlocked (oh - and because some jerk who Ed claims has no taste, witnessed by the fact that the jerk took my ABBA GOLD CD, opened the unlocked doors and swiped our CDs - did I mention, it included my ABBA GOLD CD?). And, to top it off, we went to a bar later that night and I left my wallet in the bathroom, which I realized about 1 minute after I got back to the barstool I was occupying before the bathroom break and I had to tell Ed that I needed to go to the bathroom again...right this minute. Thank you, kind ladies at the bar who left my wallet alone. When we went biking in the Loire Valley a few years ago, I told Ed that I was trying very hard to be a responsible person and somehow I convinced him that I could carry the tickets for the audio guide of some castle all the way from the place we purchased the tickets to the place headphones were handed out - about 100 yards away. Well, guess what? I was wrong. Somehow I lost the tickets - but it didn't really matter because I used my very bad French and pathetic sounding English speaking to explain the situation to the person with the headphones who happily handed them over, probably to make me go away.

But Wednesday night, even this role was finally swiped from me. Building on Monday's locking the keys in the car performance, Ed showed up at a baseball game WITHOUT his ticket. As in, he had it in the morning, had it when he left his office, but couldn't manage to keep it for two subway stops and a short walk to the entrance of the park. Luckily, new tix can be picked up for $5, so it wasn't that costly. Unless you count the cost of me losing the last piece of my personality that belonged to me, and only me. I think I will try and perform an exorcism on Ed this weekend to get my spirit to leave his body. It's just too weird.

Elaine

Priorities

2007-06-19T07:22:00.000-04:00

Yesterday, I went to a baseball game with a friend while Ed took Connor to swim lessons. Apparently the lessons went pretty well. Afterwards, Ed took Connor out to the car, put Connor's dry clothes on him, and then promptly shut the trunk of the car - with all of his stuff (keys, wallet, Connor's shoes, etc.) now safely locked inside. This meant Ed had to carry Connor quite a distance home. As they left the parking lot, Connor gave one last glance toward the car and said "bye-bye, maroon car". It's as if was saying. Hey, it's been nice knowing you, but if Dad can only take one of us home, I'm glad it's me. Maybe sometime we'll cross paths again and we can reminisce about the good ol’ days, me honking your horn, you sitting in the driveway.

After they got a bit away from the car, Connor looked at Ed and said “Connor want de bottle” at which point, Ed had to relay the potentially heartbreaking news that the promised bottle was in the trunk of the maroon car with all the other stuff. This is when Connor realized they had a serious situation on their hands. He looked Ed right in the eyes so that Ed could grasp the enormity of the situation. In a very serious tone Connor commanded “get the bottle”. He was perfectly willing to give up the car, but the bottle, now Ed had gone too far.

I told Ed when I got home, "well, at least you didn't lock the baby in the car" - something I had managed to accomplish in the city when Connor was only a few weeks old. For those who are curious, if a frantic mom flags down an innocent pedestrian on a smoke break and babbles something about her very small baby being locked in the car, that very kind pedestrian will pull out his cell phone, call 911, and within minutes, a giant hook-and-ladder truck and a back-up fire department van will show up to rescue the baby, who slept through it all.

Elaine

Yes...yes...yes!

2007-06-17T22:22:00.000-04:00

Connor knows a lot of words. He can express himself in most situations. The one word that he refuses to use is "yes". Almost always, if he agrees with something, he'll simply repeat what he wants, as in..."Would you like some apple juice" "Connor want some apple juice". Of, if he doesn't feel like talking, he'll just flap his right hand which is his sign for "yes". The only time he regularly uses "yes" is when I ask him if he wants toothpaste on this toothbrush and I tell him "say yes please if you want toothpaste" and then, because I guess toothpaste is just that cool, he'll comply.

Last night, Connor slept in his "big bed", which is just a single mattress on the floor with a rail. After Ed put him to bed, I went upstairs to check on him and he looked so tiny on that big mattress, as opposed to how crowded he usually looks in his crib with his 10+ stuffed animals. Ed wondered when Connor would come visit me in the morning. The answer? 5:45. Not terrible, but a bit early for my taste. He didn't even hesitate. As soon as I heard him stir, I heard him hop off his bed, open his door, walk through my door, and then he was looking at me. Yikes!

He needed more sleep (as did everyone else in the house), so he was pretty grumpy. Ed went and got him a bottle "no...not de bottle" Connor whined, but pretty soon, he got the bottle and climbed up into my bed. After a while, I guess he was bored, and he decided to start hitting me in the face, at which point I asked "Are you supposed to hit Mommy in the face" and I almost rolled out of bed laughing when Connor replied "yes, yes, yes!". It was at that point that I knew Ed had fallen back to sleep because he didn't even move.

Photo note: The diligent ride operator at the amusement park we went to last week noticed I was pregnant AFTER I had already ridden this wild and exciting ride in "Camp Snoopy". When she came to let us out of the ride, Connor told her "Connor want to ride again" and she said "sure" and then she paused and looked at me with great concern as she told me I really shouldn't be riding this ride since I was pregnant and all. I told her I thought it would be all right. It is, after all, made for people smaller than 48 inches. Of course, I was thankful to have the whole pregnancy excuse to avoid one of the rides my nieces convinced Ed to take them on!

Elaine

Backwards!

2007-06-15T22:37:00.000-04:00

Recently, Connor has been into doing things backwards. Probably this is because he’s related to Ed who has a penchant for doing things backwards. For example, until I needled him about it, when Ed prepared for bed he flossed his teeth before he brushed them. Ridiculous, I know. Thank goodness he has me in his life to set him straight. I have also pointed out to him that the back of the toothpaste tube actually recommends rolling the tube up from the bottom, rather than squeezing from the middle, but I guess some things just can’t be learned once you reach Ed’s advanced age.

For Connor’s part, he likes to walk backwards, and when he does it, it’s as if he is walking on a tightrope above a pit full of lions waiting to strip his skinny body from his bones. He tries very hard to perform the feat in a straight line. He also tends to ride his toys backwards, rather than turn them around when he hits a dead end. Thankfully, he still turns around and sets his feet safely on the ground before he attempts to exit a tunnel, and most often, he still slides backwards rather than sitting up – probably because he has tumbled down the slide a couple of times when attempting to ride in a seated position. Of course, the one thing I would really like him to do backwards – maneuver down stairs – he refuses. Because, after all, he is a man and men just don’t walk down stairs that way.

But tonight on the subway, I learned his fondness for backwards things extended to counting. I was totally impressed when I told him we had 8 stops to go and at each successive stop, he reduced that number by one, until he was telling me that “Connor and Mommy get off at the next stop to ride the merry-go-round”. And indeed, we arrived in time to catch a whirl around the merry-go-round before heading out to the Sculpture Garden to catch a little jazz and enjoy a picnic.

Elaine

Happy 22 month birthday!

2007-06-12T23:00:00.000-04:00

Dear Connor,

Today, you turned 22 months old. A couple of days ago, your dad remarked that you would be lucky to make it to your second birthday, but that evening, he lamented the fact that someday you will totally ignore us when you have folks your age to play with, rather than thinking we’re really cool and entertaining. Just in case you’re curious, we are really cool and entertaining, so there’s no need for you to think about ditching us. Plus, we don’t take your toys and run off with them or refuse to share ours – unlike kids your own age.

You’ve taken over a few household tasks, and for that I am grateful. You’re happy to water the tomatoes each evening, give the outdoor birds fresh water in their bath, and just tonight you reminded me “Connor need to water Daddy’s hops”. How many almost two year olds know that hops grow on vines and are used to make beer I wonder? See, Connor, we’re cool – well, at least your dad is cool. You also watered the “hostas” and the “Dr. Seuss plant” – two of your favorites in my garden.

You’ve become more fascinated with my growing belly, often telling folks “Mommy has a BABY! in her tummy” followed by “Megan has TWO BABIES! in her tummy”. (Megan, who you have met exactly once in your life – but she is the proud owner of Pedro, the ball popping dog who has his own doggy door, which I guess is why she made such an impression on you.) You are still convinced that this baby will burst forth from my belly button, and Connor, I have to tell you, I’m very worried you’re predicting a c-section for me. That’s not good, my friend, because I plan to have this baby at home – same as you.

Your grandma on dad’s side doesn’t often offer up parenting comments, but when she does, she’s usually dead on. And something she said has me worried. A few weeks ago, your dad and she were talking and she wondered how he thought you would do with the arrival of a sibling. Your dad figured that you’d end up being pretty cool with it, just as Alisa (your cousin who had no less than 5 pairs of fawning eyes on her from the moment of her birth until her sister arrived) had been. But Grandma said something about how Alisa was never quite the center of her mom’s world that you are, and when your dad told me this, it really hit home. Connor – pretty soon there’s going to be another human trying to see how big my heart can stretch and this little world we’ve developed is going to be totally rocked. So now I’m constantly talking about the baby and things of yours that you can give to her, and trying really hard to get you ready – even though I’m not even sure your dad and I are ready. Please Connor, take it easy on us. I promise in the end it’s going to work out for everyone. After all, when your dad and I send down draconian punishments, you’ll need someone who really understands how horrible we are to commiserate with. Plus, eventually we won’t be around, and she’ll be the only person who holds both your past and your present, and will get to see your future. And you, of course, will have that role with her as well.

You and your sister have already started playing or fighting (depending on your perspective). You’ll come up and “push baby” and almost always, she’ll kick right back. If you lay your head on my belly, she starts thumping away in there. You don’t seem to mind, or notice, for that matter.

Tonight, your dad thought it would be a good idea to pull the single bed down from the attic and wow – was that exciting. After a couple of days of rejecting just about any idea we’ve had, you tumbled and jumped and smiled about that bed for quite a while. You are not, however, sleeping in that bed – as it was just too darn exciting. After I had lain down with or near you for about an hour, I told you I was going to bed and you requested I put you in your crib. Then, you took what was perhaps the third dump of your life after hours, and you were so exhausted your dad and I changed your diaper without you waking.

You appeared to observe an entire inning of baseball this month, and this meant your dad and I were able to watch the same inning of a baseball game. Usually, we each watch about half the game while the other one makes sure you don’t plummet out of the upper deck. We hope this is a milestone we can build on in the future. We went into the lower deck to visit a friend, and you promptly took a bag of popcorn approximately half your size, walked several seats away so you could be on the aisle (or get away from us – not sure which one) and then sat contentedly staring at the field and shoving popcorn in your mouth – for a long time. Several people noticed you and looked around as if to say “does this kid have parents?” at which point I would wave and assure them I planned to purchase you a beer in the next inning or so to wash all that popcorn down.

We went on an incredibly long trip, and though other family members might not think so, you were a champ. First, we had to WAKE YOU UP to catch our plane. It was hard to decide just how the deed should be done. Should I scream at you from another room, jarring you from your sleep? Should I run into your room saying “say hi to Connor” and jump on you like your traditional weekend greeting to me when your dad turns his back? Or should I be mature and try and gently ease you into the car? It was quite a decision. When we touched down in MO, we promptly began our tri-state Midwest tour and headed up to Iowa.

We stopped at a playground following lunch, and you were loving that. Then we got back in the car and you put up with it. We attended my family reunion and then went over to my Aunt’s house. At the hotel that night, you went completely insane, and nearly got stuck in the car by yourself. Eventually you allowed me to catch a couple of consecutive hours of sleep. Sheer exhaustion will beat even the most strong-willed baby.

The next day, we drove to the Lake of the Ozarks where we spent time with my immediate family and you were kind enough to play a little drum solo one morning. Despite his claimed love for music, your uncle was clearly not impressed – though I did manage to move you and your cousins outside after not too long. You’d been having such a tough morning that I really felt like you should be allowed to explore your creative talents without being bothered. But then, I’d been awake for a couple of hours with you already.

You drove us around on a big boat – and except for the fact that folks your age were required to wear life jackets while on the deck, it was a pretty perfect cruise. You pretty much stayed indoors to avoid the oversized, orange monstrosity.

We went to the zoo, and I assure you it did not disappoint. I was worried they wouldn’t have cool animals like meerkats, but they did. Properly equipped with binoculars from your cousin, you took it all in.

You even got to feed birds!

Your vocabulary continues to increase, and you seem to have the hang of verb tenses. On occasion, your dad and I have no idea what you're talking about, but usually we can figure it out. You were truly a grump for a few days, but I'm cutting you some slack because as it turns out, four teeth popped in during this period. You have become a milk machine, consuming a gallon over the course of three days. But, I'm chalking this up to teeth as well.

I learned that you truly are a city kid because when we went to your Aunt Linda's house, you jumped with glee when you saw she had a "parking garage" at her house! It occurred to me that the only parking garage you know about is the one at the library - and it probably never crossed your mind that these could come in the small variety for only 1 or 2 cars. Speaking of that library parking garage, you have also decided it is a very dangerous place, and navigate it very delicately. I take you out of the car seat, you scramble down and immediately put your hand on the car square (gas tank) until I can take your hand and walk - or rather run - you to the elevator. If there is a moving car in sight, you freeze and tell me to wait for the car to pass. What a good little trooper you are!

As always, I look forward to whatever surprises you bring next month.
Love,
Mommy

Time to cut back on expenses

2007-06-01T20:00:00.000-04:00

Ed has apparently decided that having two children could get quite expensive (particularly when the next one is going to be a girl!), so he's decided to sacrifice having a professional trim his hair. Because, after all, he probably pays somone $10 at the mall to shear his locks every few months. Thankfully, Connor is happy to shave Ed's neck. After seeing the photos, Ed did look a little worried as he asked me "who exactly was watching the razor while you were taking photos?". To which I said "uh...Connor?".

Elaine

Why Connor and Ed are no longer allowed in the kitchen together!

2007-05-29T20:42:00.000-04:00

Last week, Ed decided we should have pizza for dinner. Typically, I would've made the dough, but instead I delegated the task to the men. I gave them the bread machine to do it in, so it wasn't as if actual skill was involved.

At one point, I looked in on the two of them as I was preparing for work, after hearing something like "oh no" come out of Ed's mouth and "need de vacuum" out of Connor's. Definitely not good signs. But, Connor was quick to reassure that the situation was totally under control.

This was not, however, the case. Do not be fooled by Connor's innocent smile. Not only was the kitchen about destroyed, but something went awry in the measuring step as when I came home, I had a gooey glob of dough that Connor and I had to work about 2 cups of flour into just to be able to use it - which was fine with Connor, because that meant he could throw more flour around.

So now there's a new rule in the house. Ed and Connor are not allowed near the bread machine unsupervised, even if it means we have to rely on store bought dough occasionally!

Elaine

Morning Play Date

2007-05-28T20:30:00.000-04:00

We spent Memorial Day destroying someone else's house, rather than our own. And actually, the mom who invited us over was smart enough to shuffle everyone outside to a park near her house. Brilliant, I tell you.

While there, Connor took Teo on an airplane ride:

And apparently Teo was not impressed with Connor's navigation skills, because despite the fact that Connor was ready to take him on a drive in the red car that wobbles,

Teo preferred to keep his feet on the ground for this trip and gave Connor the OK from below.

However, after Teo had given Connor the green light, he was able to con sweet Miss Esther into his car. She gave him the once over, and they were off.

It was really fun to see Connor actually playing with a few of the other kids - though we could've done without the bruiser "Tristan". This was the most giant 2 year old I had ever seen (seriously, the kid could've knocked me down if he wanted) and he didn't mind throwing his weight around and at one point decided to follow Connor for a few minutes, shoving my little guy out of the way. His mom kept looking at me pleading "he really does understand sharing and taking turns" but I kept thinking - apparently not, but instead said "maybe he's having a tough morning". I was secretly glad, as I'm sure Connor was, when the bruiser left because that left mostly kids from the mom's group there - and they're a pretty peaceful group.

Based on some e-mails with friends in my mom's group, I'd been counting the number of words Connor uses when he talks to try and see if the notion that 5 words at a time is the max Connor could comprehend. Interestingly, Connor does give most of his commands in 5 or fewer words "Mommy, get the panda" - sometimes with a coerced "peas" at the end - particularly if I wait a few moments to respond or if I tell him "no". But when he's really excited about something, he'll string two or three sentences together with up to 12 words per sentence. For example, "Connor and Mommy are going in the maroon car to see Esther! Daddy stay home. ...". Wow! I had no idea until I started listening. And while Connor seems to be getting some sense of verb tenses, pronouns are not even close. When he wants to be carried, he still looks at me and says "Carry you" and sometimes it's pretty tricky because he'll refer to me as "me" instead of "you" so I forget and think he's wanting to do something himself. Most of the time, he still refers to himself as Connor. While Bob Dole-esque in nature, at least it's clear.

Elaine

Politician?

2007-05-23T17:00:00.000-04:00

When I was in college, I used to think I wanted to be a politician - but those thoughts have long since faded, though Ed does vote for me whenever he has a chance to vote for Sheriff! (Thank you for your support.) One reason why I would not make a good politician is because I am horrible at remembering names. I used to blame it on the booze, but these past 2.5 years, I can't say there's been much of that - between being pregnant, nursing, and then pregnant again.

But Connor may just have a chance. On Sunday, we met some friends at a new playground. After swinging for longer than I have ever seen Connor swing, he decided to explore the play structure. As is often the case, Connor was reporting the events, as they happened. And I was amazed to see that even after only hearing the other kid's names a couple of times (once, in some cases) he was able to stand at the top of the structure and say "Elizabeth coming up, Eamon coming up, Zoe coming up, Scott coming up, Teo coming up..." identifying each child and sometimes their parent as they either began to ascend the stairs or stood close enough that Connor thought they might be coming up. Sometimes, I think he sucked my memory right out of me while I was breastfeeding him, a theory first introduced to me when I saw Sarah McLachlan in concert. Apparently it was put to good use, at least, so while I am left with a sieve for a memory, Connor's is quite fine tuned.

The other reason Connor could make a good politician is because, like my dad, he clearly knows how to fit in with "Joe Everyman", as seen below.

Elaine

Standing in the shoes of Tony Gonzalez

2007-05-22T17:16:00.000-04:00

I have always been amazed by the way professional football players can stand with their toes firmly planted in bounds, less than a centimeter from being out of bounds. They catch the ball and then fall, often on their faces, with their bodies completely straight, cradling the ball. They do not drop the ball. I don't quite understand how they train themselves to not take another step and avoid falling. I guess when you make a bazillion dollars staying in bounds, you figure it out. As a petite woman, I never thought I would have the chance to experience anything similar to this, and although it's a bummer I did have the opportunity, I guess it answered one of those questions that hang around in the back of my brain.

Two weeks ago Sunday, I was walking down the porch stairs headed to the library to get new books for Connor to drive the nanny crazy with in the upcoming week. I was in a hurry because I thought the library closed in a half hour. I scooped Connor up at the top of the stairs, and when I got to the bottom, I tripped. Only it wasn't one of those scuff your shoes and go on sort of trips, it was the real deal, falling in midair kind of trips. I realized immediately that I was not going to be able to stop the fall. I'm certain I called out for Ed - but he was at the top of the steps locking the door and had no shot to provide assistance. Instead, I fell. But somehow, as I lunged for the grass thinking that was the best place I could possibly fall (didn't quite make it), I managed to get my hand beneath Connor's head and twist my body, so that when we landed, both hands and knee got scraped up, my nose even got a tiny scratch, but other than being frightened, Connor was left unscathed. And, he wasn't even bothered that long because I guess falling down to him is so common, it probably doesn't seem all that bizarre that I would fall down too. Hopefully, the baby inside was also not jarred too much.

The only silver lining is that I think I now understand how football players do it. You don't think about minor issues affecting your own body, you just react.

Elaine

Connor 2.0

2007-05-21T11:08:00.000-04:00

Someone has taken my nearly perfect son who rarely sleeps and turned him into a nearly perfect son who sleeps. I'm trying very hard not to get used to it. If you see my old son, please let him know we're doing fine with the new version.

Elaine

Month 21 Postscript

2007-05-15T15:15:00.000-04:00

I forgot to mention - last Saturday, Ed caught sight of Connor's first molar, and I risked my fingertip to confirm its presence. Woohoo! Neither Ed nor I have any idea when it came in, but we're certainly delighted it did so.

Happy 21 month birthday!

2007-05-12T23:00:00.000-04:00

Dear Connor,

Today, you turned 21 months old, your dad and I celebrated the 6th anniversary of our wedding, and tomorrow, I will turn 34 years old. Wow! That’s a lot to celebrate – and you’ve been up for it all.

For starters, on Thursday, you and your dad went to the grocery store and purchased a giant cookie inscribed “Happy Mother’s Day”. You were so excited that the first words out of your mouth when I came home from work were “Mommy, cookie!”, and while I thought there was a small chance you had come up with a new nickname for me, I was equally delighted that you had a giant cookie for me – pre-tasted, I might add! But don’t worry, Connor, you come by your desire to blab honestly. I also can’t keep secrets. On that same trip, your dad got an ice cream cake for my birthday and that was a lot of fun to eat tonight – and because the cookie was so amazing, it was actually a surprise.

On Friday night, we went to a fundraiser at the zoo. Thankfully, your Grandma on your dad’s side had sent you the most perfect safari outfit for Easter so you looked quite stylish among the other zoo kiddos. Amidst enjoying running around, playing a few games, eating some junk food, and climbing on construction equipment, you showed me the proper way to do the hula hoop. I have to tell you, Connor, this might be better than I can do, but your Aunt Linda has won hula hoop contests before. (And that, my friend, is the sole reason that she will be your guardian if something happens that your dad and I can't fulfill our role as parents.) You might consider asking her for a few tips before you attempt this feat again.

Naturally, we spent some time visiting the beloved meerkats, because no trip to the zoo is complete without that.

This month has been marked by your growing independence and continued use of complete sentences to communicate. Apparently the other day at the park, you met a 5 year old named Patrick and he and you were the best of friends. He apparently grabbed your hand and away you went to play – something you wouldn’t have considered a few months ago. Your imagination also seems to be growing. You often drop to all fours to play “little doggie” and you’re quite fast when you get going. Today, you played “rain storm” (which was actually sand storm) when another girl at the park suggested it.

You officially took over half of the basement. Your dad puchased you a very cool rug, converted an old table into a train table (my idea, but his labor), and we pulled a few other “over-flow” toys from upstairs to the new play area. Just keep your stuff on the rug, little man, and there shouldn’t be any problems. If I see you drawing beers off the tap, your toys are getting shoved back upstairs.

You also slept to at least 6 AM every day last week, which in some parent’s books might not be all that impressive, but in ours, it’s fabulous. Typically, you get us at least one morning a week – if not more, with a pre-6 AM wake-up and my friend, that is unacceptable. But, your dad purchased a “wake-up” light, and you’ve been instructed that you needn’t call for me until that light comes on. It’s on a timer, and so far, so good.

You received your first professional haircut and it went so smoothly, I’m almost sorry I didn’t take you sooner. Since then, it’s been a little humid and your hair has been curlier than ever. Your dad asked me today if I thought you would have curly hair forever and I had to remind him that it’s one of few features of yours that can be attributed to me, so I better not see him pulling out the straightening gel anytime soon.

You’ve become a bit more obsessive about neatness – and in general, I fully support this. But at times, it’s really inconvenient. I have finally convinced you (I think) that when you drop popcorn on the ground you don’t have to pick up every kernel because the birds like to eat it too. A few nights ago, you dropped your bottle at the dinner table and the meal had to come to a complete stop while I lunged for the wipe to “clean it up!” immediately. You were mesmerized and couldn’t even think about eating another bite until the offending drops of milk had been cleansed from the floor.

You also started eating a few meals each week, which is really helping your dad and I remain sane, for the most part. Two nights ago, you had trout, tomatoes, green beans, bread, and part of that giant cookie. I even followed this book’s advice by setting out the cookie with the meal and it worked! You ate it first, but then moved on to the rest of your food. Of course, I nearly had a hernia today when you decided that food was for the weak and I swear didn’t eat more than 5 bites after breakfast. Your dad reminded me that “super zen mommy”, my new feeding persona, wouldn’t be bothered by this behavior, so I let it go.

The belly button is clearly an impressive body part, and sometimes, we have to put you in a "man suit" just to protect the poor thing. Tonight though, you had a very good idea. We've been talking about how there's a very tiny baby in my tummy, and you peered very closely at my belly button and asked if you could see the baby. It's a good idea but no, you cannot see the baby through my belly button. Sorry. Just like everyone else, you'll have to wait a good number of months to see that little one. You believe it is a girl, like mommy, not a boy like you and daddy. I believe you are correct. Your dad has his doubts.

I'm a little worried that you're going to start losing faith in your dad's and my ability to solve all problems because on occasion, you've demanded "fix it" and we have really dropped the ball. For example, we were planting periwinkle one afternoon and you decided to pinch a worm in half. You gave me both pieces and requested "fix it" but I had to tell you that once a worm was in two pieces, there was nothing to be done about making it one piece again. Luckily, when you break the play-dough, your dad can magically put it back together.

And thanks to you, Connor, your dad and I now own a cellular telephone. We purchased it because we started to feel that though we are almost always reachable, it is possible that something will happen when we are at a concert and you - I mean, your babysitter - will need to get in touch with us. Woohoo! Go technology! Now we just have to remember to bring it with us and turn it on, which are not the simple feats you might imagine them to be.

Along with all the joy you bring me, you also bring me many dandelions each day, and I do believe you understand that they are the ONLY flowers that can be picked by your little hands.

Love,
Mommy

First professional haircut

2007-05-11T08:00:00.000-04:00

A couple of weeks ago, it became obvious to me that Connor needed to get a haircut. Not so much because I mind long-haired boys, but because the back was truly getting difficult to comb, which meant Connor was becoming less and less cooperative since he knew he might get a hair tug in the process. Then, I bathed him one night (usually Ed's job), and when his hair was wet, it became truly obvious how long his hair had become.

Connor's hair had gotten long enough, and tangled enough, that I knew it was time to call in a professional. I polled the playground ladies who had boys with curly hair to see where they got their sons' hair cut, and as it turns out, they all go to the same person - so I decided I would take Connor there too. I decided that the best chance I had of making this adventure successful was to hope Connor agreed to it, so for several days, I would come home and ask "Do you want to get your hair cut today?" and each time, Connor would respond "No, another day". Finally, on Monday, I decided it was time - so I tossed Connor in the car and drove over to the barber shop. Annie was just finishing up another guy, which ended up being a good thing because we could read books and check out the place for a few minutes. As soon as the guy got down from the chair, Connor sprung up from where he was seated and shouted "Connor's turn" and indeed, it was. He hopped on my lap, positioned himself so he could look out the window, and we proceeded to count the red cars, the buses, the birds, and pretty much anything else we saw more than one of while Annie worked her magic. $12 later - with no scary moments - Annie was done. Connor turned around to admire himself and noticed the popcorn machine. He promptly informed Annie "Connor want some popcorn", and Annie happily gave him a scoop. If you ask Connor if he got his hair cut, he will likely tell you about the popcorn. Thank you, Annie!

That night, Connor was determined to get the bubble pig that no longer blew bubbles to work. After several minutes of diligently turning it on and off (a feat I didn't actually know he could do since I've been doing it for him), bubbles emerged from the pig and laughter emerged from Connor. And to think, Ed and I were just going to toss it when Connor wasn't looking.

Elaine

Two wishes...

2007-05-09T07:30:00.000-04:00

If Connor could have two wishes, I'm quite certain he would wish for a bottle of milk, and easy access to his beloved belly button.

And if he could squeeze in a third, it would be a pony.

Oh...to be almost two

2007-04-30T13:22:00.000-04:00

On Sunday night, we had some friends over for dinner. We ate outside (thank you, cooperative weather). Connor and I made bread for the event. Seriously, he can knead dough! He really pushes down with all his might, and can seriously move the dough around. Only problem is, at some point he decided the dough ball was a PILLOW! Thankfully, I intervened before I had a kid with a head full of dough or a dough ball full of hair. He's not the most efficient baker, but what he lacks in efficiency, he makes up for in enthusiasm. And he certainly seemed to enjoy the many opportunities to sweep up flour that he provided himself.

Naturally, the meal was a bit lengthy for his taste, but he didn't seem to mind. As Ed was bringing out food for the main course, Connor got up, ran off the deck, dropped to the ground, and rolled in the grass with this huge grin. Only one other guest caught the experience. He and I shared a big laugh. This is surely the very best thing about being almost two.

If I had a photo, I would post it a million times, because it is moments like these that remind me being a mommy is the best thing in the world.

Elaine

Vacation

2007-04-29T09:58:00.000-04:00

Last weekend in Florida was great. I was hanging out with friends from college, and just like the old days, we decided to sneak into a club. Not so much a club with beer and boys and cheap food - as might have been the case a decade ago, but rather, a Disney resort pool.

Connor and Ginger had the best time splashing around, and playing in the sand, but not going down the slide (this thing was super steep, and didn't have a long enough landing spot so its victims get shot out right onto the cement. It hurts! And the other playground equipment at the resort was so hot, you couldn't go near it without getting an instant burn. But, I digress - we came there for the water, and we enjoyed the water!

And Ginger also has very nice toys that she was generous enough to share with Connor. Check out these wheels!

Connor tried to be a very helpful guest, letting the pussycat in and out the pussycat door. He even tested it himself on our final day. He fits!

Calling Poopie

2007-04-28T22:02:00.000-04:00

Changing the subject in order to avoid something is a tried and tested practice of children (and adults, I suppose). I thought we had a few more years before we reached this stage with Connor, but as in many other cases throughout this parenting journey, I was wrong. Connor has learned that there is one word he can utter, certain to get my attention. In our house, we call it "calling poopie". For example, I might ask Connor to put some toy away so we can get ready to leave. If he wants to go on whatever mission I have planned for him, no problem. But, if he'd prefer to not be bothered, he will squat down, look up at me, sometimes even grab his bottom for that extra special effect and say "poopie". Even when I am certain it is not possible for him to have soiled a diaper, I will stop what I'm doing and check the diaper, which buys him a few moments to figure out what his resistance strategy will be. He might (a) drop to the floor and go limp the "baby passive resistance" move (b) say "Connor run" and take off down the hall the "baby can outrun mommy" move, or (c) just go back to doing whatever it was he was doing before he had to call poopie, as if he had never been interrupted in the first place the "if I ignore it, so will she" move. Calling poopie has also been tried when I am in the middle of my own task like cooking or folding laundry and Connor would prefer I be playing animals with him and extending the bedtime ritual a bit.

Tonight, Connor called poopie as Ed was putting him to bed. Ed smelled Connor's nether regions (truly the best part of parenting - NOT!) and declared there was no poopie. So, Connor looked at Ed and said "Frog Poopie" because apparently Ed had gotten it all wrong. The stuffed frog the two of them had diapered a few days ago had pooped - duh!

A few nights ago, some friends were over playing bridge. We suggested calling poopie was a pretty good strategy to get out of doing stuff, but my friend who works at a big-time law firm didn't think his boss would go for it. Neither Ed nor I have tried it at our worksites, but I'm definitely keeping the idea in my back pocket. I can see it now. I'm in the middle of a long meeting, I want to leave but don't feel I can just get up and leave without a reason, so I stand up and say "poopie". By the time anyone figures out what's going on, I should be safely out of the room. Who says you can't learn something from your toddler?

Elaine

Catching up on some reading

2007-04-27T09:49:00.000-04:00

One of my Mom's Group mates suggested a few parenting reads quite some time ago. And alas, my local public library has finally given me the opportunity to read "Unconditional Parenting". Apparently Connor knows something is up, because the day after I brought it home, he insisted we sit together and read the orange book.

How am I ever going to get a half step ahead of him?

Elaine

If only they understood

2007-04-25T07:45:00.000-04:00

Connor and I went to Florida this past weekend to visit a couple of friends I went to college with. The friend whose home we stayed at had two pussycats (Connor has decided that "cat" just isn't formal enough, I guess) including one that allowed Connor to chase it, poke it, attempt to carry it, etc., and didn't seem to mind. On our last day, Newton even came when called, so we got to bid him farewell. Connor would love a cat. Too bad his mommy would not love one.

When we got back, Ed picked us up at the airport. While Ed was loading my bag into the trunk, Connor promptly scrambled up to the front passenger seat, sat down, looked up at me and smiled. Clearly, he has decided that he would prefer to ride in the front seat. Nice try, Buster.

Yesterday, Ed and Connor went for a morning drive in the driveway, and out of the blue, Connor hopped in the carseat, requested to be buckled in, and then requested Ed take him to go see the gerbils. When Ed told him the store wasn't open yet, Connor looked at him and knew that Ed just didn't get what he wanted. So he brightly said "Fish?" because apparently, Connor realized that if Ed took him to the store with fish, Connor could show Ed where the gerbils across the aisle were located. Geez, Dad, don't you know anything?

Elaine

Hangin' with the donkey at the zoo

2007-04-20T09:53:00.000-04:00

Lucky day! The petting zoo was open at our local zoo, so Connor got a brush the donkey. Very cool.

Elaine

Happy 20 Month Birthday!

2007-04-12T21:08:00.000-04:00

Dear Connor,

Today you turned 20 months old. And in the past month, life has slipped by so fast that I wonder if I can possibly remember all the new things you’ve done. For starters, you can correctly and consistently identify robins, cardinals, and blue jays in the yard. Once you have mourning dove down, you’ll pretty much have my birding knowledge exhausted, so we’ll have to turn to a book to further expand your repertoire. You know that a robin eats worms and birds go “twee twee twee” – except a crow which goes “cah cah cah”.

I’ve gone from being “mama” to “mommy”. Likewise, “dada” has become “daddy”. Shortly after the transition, your dad remarked that he was sort of sad about the passage of “dada” because it was such a concrete sign that you were growing up. We also weaned, which has been easier than I expected it to be though you still look up at me, get this huge grin, and say “nursin’?” on occasion.

Your favorite accessory this month is this little stretchy necklace with hearts on it. I pity the child that comes between you and that necklace. I think it is the one toy you would throw down over, and I think even with a size disadvantage, you might win. Typically, you are a pretty mild mannered child when it comes to toys. You get a bit annoyed when other children take your toys, but if you get a bit too excited and take something in use, you’ll almost always hand it back with the assurance that your turn is coming. Earlier this month we met the very nicest boy ever on the playground. He had two trucks and you walked right up to him and said “Connor truck” and smiled at him and apparently you said it with such authority or charm that this little boy was compelled to give you one of his trucks. I suggested you offer him one of your two tigers in return (which you did), but he didn’t realize how cool the tigers were so you got to keep both tigers AND the truck. Wow – what a deal. We also met a little girl who didn’t appreciate you caring for her doll, even though she had abandoned it in her stroller. The little girl about popped a gasket when she saw you head over to the abandoned baby in the stroller and give it a hug. Her nanny took the doll from you without much comment and put it back in the stroller, and rather than punching the nanny in the face, I tried to cover for her brash behavior and said that apparently it was the dolly’s naptime and she needed to sleep in the stroller. This seemed to be a satisfactory explanation to you about why you weren’t allowed to care for that lonely, unattended dolly. This child and nanny didn’t seem to get that at our park, unattended toys are fair game. Of course, when the mean girl started playing with one of your unused toys, we let her. Maybe next time she’ll be nicer.

Further solidifying your roll as “old man”, you have taken to begging your dad and I to play “car” which means you sit in the front seat, play with the stick shift and whatever knobs and dials you can get your hands on. I still do not fully comprehend why your dad allowed this in the first place, but when I don’t feel like playing the most boring game in the world, I simply tell you that you have to wait until Daddy comes home and then you dutifully beg him to play when you next see him and more often than not, the two of you go on a Sunday drive right in the driveway. Perhaps you should talk to your Aunt Linda about driving before you’re legally able to do so. I don’t know all the details, but suffice it to say, I was a baby – and she decided to take us cruising, which fortunately ended with nothing more tragic than the bending of a street sign. I will admit I allowed you to play your boring game one day when I drove to a neighbor’s house to pick up a roto-tiller. I knew it would be very difficult, if not impossible, to wheel the thing around to the front yard and load it into the car with you running in all directions, so I simply rolled down the windows so I could hear you if you hollered loud enough, locked the doors, and left you unattended for a few minutes while I found the small machine and then loaded it into the car. No child protective agencies were involved, thankfully.

Your dad has proclaimed that you desperately need a haircut (he even suggested a “summer buzz cut”) but I think using a comb would go a long way, and I’d like to try that strategy first. I suspect you will be a bit hostile towards both. But, even if we do go to a professional to trim some of your curls, unless something goes terribly awry - you need not worry about the summer buzz cut your dad spoke about. It is definitely not your style.

About the only sound that still trips you up is an “l” sound in the middle of the word as in “Kellee” or “stroller”. But, even words with this characteristic can be understood by trained ears. You have jumped from two word phrases to three word phrases, which means now you can say “Mommy carry you” instead of just “carry you”. Pronouns are not working out for you just yet.

You took over the basement officially when your dad and I took down the pool table, though I suspect you’ll miss walking around the pool table and trying to frighten me by launching pool balls off it. You’ve added a couple of letters to the ones you’ve already known, and now you’re willing to admit that some letters can be shared by more than one person. When we went to Colorado, Grandma tried to convince you the “Mama” and “Michael” shared the same letter – but you would make her draw two “Ms” each time, insisting that one was Mama (the first one) and the other one could be for Michael if she insisted. This morning, I asked you whose letter “R” was and you said “Rani” and then “Ruth”. The letters you recognize are: C – Connor; D – Daddy; I – Isabella; M – Mommy / Michael; R – Rani / Ruth; Z – Zoe and sometimes T – Tiger and A – Alice / Amanda. Wow!

Love,
Mommy

PS: Making it just under the wire for 20 months, you said what I believe is your first complete sentence this evening while Daddy was cooking dinner. It was a command, surprise. "Daddy, turn the mixer off." He complied.

New Bike!

2007-04-11T20:30:00.000-04:00

My friend Vickie turned me onto the like-a-bike . But, the like-a-bike is rather expensive, and I am rather cheap. But, then Vickie told me that my beloved Target sold a knock-off, so of course, Ed rushed out to buy it (along with two other completely unauthorized purchases). Unfortunately, Connor is still a little too short for the new bike, so this not quite assembled version was as good as it got for Connor. But maybe by the end of summer he’ll be cruising along on his pedal-free wooden bike

Happy Easter

2007-04-10T12:04:00.000-04:00

I was planning to let Easter pass the same way most holidays pass in my home – without much notice except for some cool presents from Aunt Linda, Anna, and Emily and my parents. After all, I won’t be able to slack on this stuff forever, so I should take advantage of the fact that Connor doesn’t know about things like the Easter bunny now. But, a few weeks ago my mom was talking about how it would be fun to visit Connor next year and see him hunt for eggs, and it was then that I remembered the annual egg hunts my mom hosted in our backyard when my sister and I were growing up. So, I floated the idea with a couple of friends, and the first annual Easter egg hunt was planned – complete with a bunny cake from of our friends Elsa, Ceci, and Elaine.

It was supposed to be sunny outside. The twelve children I invited (8 of whom were able to attend) were supposed to join Connor in merriment outside on my deck and in my backyard. But, thanks to completely freaky weather (it SNOWED the day before the party), all plans had to be moved inside. This meant two things.

#1. Connor and his friends had a hostile takeover of the basement. The pool table that once thrived in Grateful Ed’s but has most recently been used as a place to store clutter gathered in other parts of the house was taken apart and will be taken away in the next few days – because even I am not insane enough to dye Easter eggs on the main floor of my house. And nearly every person in attendance remarked how the egg dyeing wasn’t nearly as messy as they thought it would be! Most importantly, Ed did not divorce me.

#2. After the egg dyeing, all of the children were released – at once – to roam around the upstairs uncovering over 100 hidden eggs. Wow! Talk about chaos. But it was fun! Afterwards, Ed and I told Connor his friends were messier than a bunch of drunks, which frankly Ed and I have a lot more experience dealing with.

I didn’t get any photos of the actual event. I was too busy making sure the house didn’t fall down. But this morning, after Ed had mercifully taken morning duty (this makes FOUR weekend days in a row!), Connor and I played egg hunt for another hour – and he would’ve played longer if I didn’t need to get in the shower because we were having a play date.

Next year, I’m considering switching out the egg dyeing event with a cookie decorating event, but only if it’s outside.

Elaine

How to dye an Easter egg

2007-04-08T22:13:00.000-04:00

Step 1. Set out cups for dye.

Step 2. Taste dye tablet to make certain Mom was telling the truth when she said it wasn’t candy.
Step 3. Spit dye tablet out and mix with water and vinegar.
Step 4. Throw hard boiled egg into dye as quickly as possible. Do this many times so Mom can’t keep up with you.
Step 5. Take egg out of dye. Do not bother using egg dippers and special spoons to remove the egg. Bare hands work fine. Throw egg in new color. Repeat until Mom says that's enough.
Step 6. Resemble the Incredible Hulk with cool green hands.

The Farm!

2007-04-06T21:49:00.000-04:00

Last weekend, we went to a petting farm. This is the second visit we’ve made, but the first visit Connor was unable to feed the animals himself, which left Ed carrying him around and me allowing goats to lick my hands. I announced on that visit that the next time we ventured to the farm, my hand was not going to be licked by goats. Ick!

This trip was even better. For one, Connor can feed the animals – though I helped a bit, and it didn’t gross me out as much before. Perhaps I’m becoming a mother after all. Most amazing, my little man, who typically does not like strange experiences OR experiences that involve strangers, actually got on a pony and rode it around with someone else guiding the pony and making sure he didn’t topple off. We weren’t planning to get him a ticket to ride the pony, but the friends we met there had gotten a ticket for their daughter, and while we watched others ride the pony waiting for Zoe’s turn, Connor announced “Connor pony”, which we took to meant he’d like a turn. We dutifully purchased him a ticket, though I think both Ed and I were quite certain we had just tossed the few bucks it cost down the drain. Much to our surprise, at the end of the ride when I told Connor we were all done, he told me “more” – but, there was a big line of other children waiting to ride, so I convinced him that a hug and a pat would have to do for now.

Elaine

Little dogs and Connor

2007-04-03T11:10:00.000-04:00

Connor has always loved dogs. A few nights ago, we went to a friend's house to watch OSU beat Georgetown. We opted to travel instead of invite our friend over because he was dogsitting a dachsund - "Beemer".

Only trouble was, Beemer does not like men he doesn't already know. This meant that Ed had to sit across the room and watch the game to keep Beemer from barking. But every time Ed moved, Beemer let us know he was aware of Ed's daring nature.

In spite of the noise, Connor still liked Beemer, though he was a bit nervous about getting too close. He did, however, enjoy playing in Beemer's water dish, figuring out that his head was too small to make it through Beemer's doggie door leading to the balcony, lying in Beemer's bed, and wearing Beemer's tiger print cape.

For the last two nights, before Connor has fallen asleep, he's brought up Beemer. Apparently that little dog made quite an impression!

Elaine

Hope springs eternal in April

2007-04-02T08:00:00.000-04:00

Ed pointed out last night that our household might be rooting for the two worst teams in baseball this year. I told him I could take it, but frankly, as a recovering Yankees fan, I'm not sure he has what it takes. Time will tell, I suppose.

But regardless of who your loyalties lie with...

Let's play ball! Or toss pandas. Whatever you prefer!

Elaine

PS: Outfit credit goes to Aunt Linda, Anna, and Emily - organizing credit goes to me since I held onto it since Connor's birth!

Happy Mother's Day...in March!

2007-03-30T20:54:00.000-04:00

When Connor was born, Ed and I went through this very intense phase of sleep deprivation. Ed could no longer see things right in front of him, and I could no longer form words. Conversations would go something like this.

Me: "Could you get me the...the thing? You know, that you make tea in?"
Ed: "The teapot? Yes. Where is it?"
Me: "It's in the...the place. That has doors. In the room we cook in."
Ed: "You mean, the kitchen cupboard? OK."
Ed...staring straight at the teapot. "No, it's not there. I can't find it." and then I would go up and point out to him that it was approximately 10 inches from his nose.

In the middle of all this, I decided one day that a cup of tea was just what I needed. Yes, a cup of hot tea would make everything better. I would make the tea, go downstairs and hang out in front of the TV watching Oprah, with Connor resting nearby, and everything would somehow be right in the world again. Well...I got to the part about putting water in the tea kettle, and the part about going downstairs, and the next thing I knew, Ed was turning the stove off. Every drop of water in the teapot had boiled off, and the once shiny copper kettle was now completely black.

Being a bit on the emotional side at the time, I suspect I cried. Not so much because my beloved teapot had been destroyed by my sleepy, careless hands, but because it was surely a sign that things would never be the way they used to be. I would never be able to function among other adults. My life, as I knew it, was over. And what's more, the life I was entering was over my head. I was in deep, and that teapot symbolized just how dark things might get.

Ed consoled me, and then he scrubbed that teapot so hard that it was almost copper again. Though in a weakened state, no doubt. But I was so happy to see even a little sign that things could be right again, I embraced by battle scarred teapot, and continued to use it.

Earlier this year, Connor decided my teapot was very cool. He decided he needed it for some very important kitchen project. I foolishly left it within his grasp. And then, a few minutes after I had left the kitchen, Ed and I heard the sound of something metal hitting the ground. It was the SPOUT. Yes, somehow, Connor had managed to free the spout from the pot. I'm not sure whether I should be frightened or impressed, but clearly the teapot was officially dead.

It was then that I told Connor it was all his fault that my teapot died and I would like a new one for Mother's Day.

Yesterday, a package arrived. As soon as I came home, Connor requested "scissors" so we could "open...present". I had been warned that Ed had ordered some things for my birthday, our anniversary, and Mother's Day, so I told Connor he and Daddy could open it when Daddy came home. Connor forgot about the box until he saw it this morning.

But when he noticed it, he called downstairs for Ed and insisted that Ed get scissors so they could open the present right away. I went into another room, and Connor and Ed dug in. As soon as Connor got the to the box with the teapot in it, he brought it to me, completely excited. Only I didn't want to ruin the surprise, so I closed my eyes. Connor bumped into me with box and I told him that I wasn't looking. Unexpectedly, he went from being the most excited toddler on the planet to bursting into tears. So I opened my eyes. And you know what, Mother's Day in March is just as great as Mother's Day in May. And that lovely brass tea kettle, still covered in laquer and super shiny? That's how I feel about life now.

Thanks, Connor. For the lovely brass tea kettle.

Elaine

PS: I realize the photos have absolutely nothing to do with the post, but I know some readers (ahem, Ed) only look at the blog for the photos - so a long-winded post from me is surely not appreciated without at least a couple shots showing that despite the morning chaos, all is well with Connor too.

PPS: My friend Thérèse read this post and sent me this link. I am not the only mom whose teapot fell victim to the early days of motherhood

Because sometimes, having one old man in the house

2007-03-29T09:51:00.000-04:00

just isn't enough.

Lately, Connor has taken to going outside and sitting on the porch, just watching the world go by. I presume by next weekend, Ed will have him reading a newspaper too, to complete the look.

Taking a ride!

2007-03-26T20:50:00.000-04:00

Last weekend was the big semi-annual consignment sale I have not missed since Connor's birth. Among other purchases, I scored this little stroller - which Connor has had great fun pushing up and down the street. He also enjoys a ride every now and then, much to the chagrin of Ed's and my aging backs!

Wishing he had more stylish parents

2007-03-26T20:44:00.000-04:00

Lately, Connor has taken to playing dress-up with Ed’s and my clothes. Ed’s shirts my be a little too big, but at least he’s not bothered by sleeves that don’t completely cover his wrists - a cause of great concern two days ago when I put him in a (gasp!) ¾ sleeve length shirt.

My clothes, on the other hand, are perfect for hiding under and running around the house. He can’t quite see where he’s going, so he bounces off the walls down the hallway like a pinball.

But shoes…now those are the best! And actually, he prefers my black, knee high boots, but he needs assistance getting into those.

Elaine

'Uh oh' is not

2007-03-18T20:20:00.000-04:00

walking over to a bucket of water left out on the deck, splashing to your heart's desire, and then looking up as if it were an accident. But boy is it fun when Dad comes home and he'll actually listen to your command of "on" in reference to the hose.

Elaine

"I'm glad...

2007-03-15T20:30:00.000-04:00

you do incredibly stupid things with him too." - Ed

Happy 19 Month Birthday!

2007-03-12T20:09:00.000-04:00

Dear Connor,

Today, you turned 19 months old. This month’s theme, much like last month’s theme, was talking. You can say almost anything, and many of your words can be understood even out of context. We’ve finally gotten a little bit of insight on the random functioning of your brain – and Connor, I think I understand why you don’t sleep more than you do. You’ve got a lot going on. For example, we’ll be sitting at the dinner table, talking about food and all of a sudden, you’ll turn your head around, look at the birdcage and say “bird!”, as if it’s the most logical think to be thinking about. You frequently give a running commentary on your activities, letting us know you’re running “run, Connor”, or walking “walk, walk, walk”, or when you get to the edge of the bleachers, “be careful”. I’m glad our words are starting to sink in. But, my most favorite thing of all is when you say something in complete gibberish, stare at me as if I’m supposed to respond, and when I don’t, you have actually said the gibberish slower AND louder – as if that will help! You will make a perfect Parisian traveler some day when you don’t know French and wonder why everybody pretends to not understand your English when you know they do.

For your first birthday, your dad and I had intended to get you a sand and water table because you seemed to enjoy it so much at your cousin’s house. By the time we made it to the toy store and figured out which one we wanted, they were no longer for sale. So, this past weekend, you finally received your first b-day present. It did not disappoint, though it did nearly make my head pop off. I got a glimpse into my dad of many years ago. You see, when I was a kid, there weren’t fancy “sand and water tables”, complete with shade umbrellas and covers so the kids stay out of the sun and the sand never gets dirty with rain water, bird droppings, or become the home of random critters – like spiders, which I detest. No, Connor, when I was a little girl, your grandpa got a giant tire, threw it out back, and poured sand in it. From the day the tire arrived until the day my dad finally got rid of it, my dad was constantly cautioning us to “keep the sand in the sandbox” - because he claimed it killed the grass. Well, Connor, that keeping the sand in the sandbox is presumably a very important rule, because your grandpa doesn’t have a lot of arbitrary rules – and this was a multi-year crusade on his part, so I felt obligated to pass it along. You, much like me, felt no compulsion to follow that rule. After all, dumping the sand on the deck is so fun! The most aggravating thing is that you clearly understand I am trying to impart an important rule because on your second day with the sand and water table (which, I might as well add, we were not foolish enough to put water in so it could become a mud table), you told me “sand” followed by “no, no, no”. But just when I thought you were going to comply with my request, you filled your little bucket up and dumped the sand on the deck. My friends tell me this goes on for about a year and then the concept sinks in. I have decided to embrace this phase of life and purchase stock in a play sand company.

You also received a bubble mower from your grandma. While we were on vacation, she gave me money to purchase you one so she wouldn't have to mess with shipping. Well, Connor, she gave me too much money - so I purchased the mother of all containers of bubbles to go with the mower. This is very cool. Though almost all of your toys are primary colored, the mower is pink. I suspect the store only had pink ones left, because everyone knows that mowing the lawn is NOT woman's work, so the target audience just wasn't buying the pink mower. I'm all for equality, but I do not mow the lawn. A few years ago, our neighbor's girlfriend mowed his lawn and I immediately told him he should never let her do that again because it was clearly man's work. That, and I didn't want your dad to realize that there is not some genetic reason why I refuse to mow the lawn. You seem to enjoy the pink mower, as I suspect all the other lawn mowing boys in training will when they get their pink mowers.

Your grandma also had the audacity to send you an Easter-themed Arthur book. For the most part, I have steered clear of this new book so it is not yet making me want to beat my forehead on the wall. I suspect by the time I write your 20 month note, there will be a flat spot on my head. But, I will get your grandma back. I will be sure to include it among our books when we travel to see her this summer.

Tantrums, knock on wood, seem to have been a short-lived phenomenon. But, your dad and I consider ourselves warned, and I suppose you’re probably just waiting for something really good to protest. I’m sure you’ll find what you’re looking for as soon as you can read the newspaper.

You used to laugh loudly when your dad would sneeze, so much so that he’ll fake sneeze just for the laugh. So, just for kicks, you learned to do this yourself. You will look at someone and say “Ahtoo”, and you always get the reaction you’re looking for. You’ve also found other ways to please a crowd. Just a couple of nights ago, we were eating dinner at a friend’s house. You insisted that your mushy green beans be placed in the little bowls meant for olive oil for bread – and at some point, you decided doing a header into the bowl and eating much like a dog would make for a great party trick. You were right – though it is always odd to clean green beans off of a forehead, nose, and chin. But hey, I’m just happy at least a portion of the beans went down, and you were pretty happy while I got to enjoy a very nice meal.

You’re becoming both more independent and more assertive. You can now play outside a bit without me right next to you, which allows me to do a little yardwork while you play. I have even dared to run inside to do a quick task like adjust the oven and both times I have done this, I have looked out the window to see you carrying random objects down the deck stairs. So far, your efforts have been successful. When we play together, you are much more likely to dictate what my role should be – “up” (pick me up) “house” (build me a house) “shovel down” (put the shovel down now, and nobody gets hurt). I have a feeling this could get old.

You continue to be such a joyful member of the family, Connor. Both your dad and I are really glad you’re here.

Love,
Mama

Gloating

2007-03-08T09:54:00.000-05:00

As most people who know Connor already know, he has approximately 1.2 million Little People. As most people who know me already know, I do not like it when any piece of any toy is missing. Connor is like me. When we go to the library and he sees the puzzles on the table (almost all of which are short at least one piece), he must tell me approximately 100 times the piece is missing before he can even begin to think about dumping out the rest of the pieces and reassembling them. I do not think Ed suffers from our affliction, but he does support it.

Before heading to Breckenridge, Ed assisted me in a thorough counting of the LP, and much to my horror, the lion and monkey that go with the A to Z Learning Zoo were missing and the tiger that goes with the train was missing. I was horrified. While Connor does have a second lion (which goes with the other LP zoo there is no other monkey. And sure, I could interchange the remaining tiger between the other A to Z zoo and the train - but it means he and Ed can no longer play 2x2 with the animals we used to have 2 of.

When Connor's nanny showed up yesterday, I mentioned the 3 missing pieces and she said she'd look for them during the day. Much to my relief, she located the tiger. And...when Ed met Connor at 4:00 yesterday, Connor showed Ed both tigers, and said "tigerS". Ed reported that Connor could now correctly use a plural noun, but Connor wouldn't answer the question "what do you have in your hands?" so I could not see this new skill for myself. I told Ed I didn't believe him.

This morning, Connor was playing with the two tigers (which he went to sleep clutching) and when I came upstairs after my shower, Ed asked Connor "Hey Connor, what's in your hand?" and Connor smiled and said "tigerS". You should've seen the look on Ed's face. He was so proud - and so happy to prove that my instinct to not believe him was wrong. Score 1 for Connor and Ed.

Elaine

Back from Breck!

2007-03-05T19:58:00.000-05:00

We spent the last week on our annual ski vacation out West which, thanks to my retired parents who are willing to put in a week of nanny duty, has not been interrupted by the addition of Connor to the mix. Which is not to say the vacation hasn’t changed. First, Ed and I no longer try to convince his brother to go out for a drink at night, instead we play Rochambeau to see who is stuck waking up in the morning (because my little friend has not figured out that it is totally acceptable to sleep past 5:30 on vacation) – and we spend the evening trying to figure out what might be fun for Connor the next day.

Day 1 was full of travel. Drive to airport = 1 hour; wait around in airport for an hour and hook up with Ed’s brother and dad, then fly to Denver = 3.5 hours in the air; drive to Breckenridge = 2 hours. Then, my parents decided to go out to eat and while normally this is something I dread, Connor actually make it through the long wait for a table and then ate dinner, in a seated position, acting like he totally knew what to do in a restaurant. I was completely impressed, so much so that I blew his cover and told my parents that never in a million years could this feat ever be repeated.

On day 2, Connor howled when we left, because apparently he didn’t realize that my dad has an infinite capacity to reread “Artur” books over, and over, and over – something I eventually told Connor I was done doing. On the bright side, he took a 3 hour nap which is pretty much unheard of, though quite welcome. My mom also read books to him and plied him with cookies. Turns out, he prefers Snickerdoodles over frosted cookies. Guess it’s good my mom comes prepared!

Day 3 was a bit easier in the departure department. I quit skiing earlier than the others – because it turns out, I’m a total wimp when it comes to cold, windy days. I stopped by the Children’s Museum on the off chance that the crew was there and indeed, my dad and Connor were busy performing engineering feats with the various building materials. They were learning about magnets and fishing, and physics, and all sorts of other good stuff. Connor pretty much had the run of the place, which is always nice.

Day 4 was an off day for skiing, which in retrospect turned out to be a bad idea because the sun came out. We started out at the indoor ice arena where my father-in-law was able to strap on a pair of skates and acted like he knew what he was doing, something my mom, Ed, and I were unable to do. Connor thought seeing Grandpa skating around was super great. I was next on the ice, and once Connor saw that, he knew this was as good as he suspected.

He walked to the ice entrance and told Ed “Connor ice, Connor ice” and it was unmistakable what he wanted. So, I went back to the front desk, rented the smallest pair of skates they had and a helmet, connected Connor to a walker for the ice, and handed him over to his grandpa. He actually skated a bit, but would’ve face planted absent the assistance of an adult. I went around with him a bit, and eventually he was exhausted, though I do believe he enjoyed it. And hey, sometimes you’ve got to try things that seem impossible and decide if there’s a way to make them possible. I appreciate that spirit in Connor and most other kids his age. My dad might refer to this as a lack of common sense, but I prefer to think of it as a zest for life.

After nap, we headed to the rec center which had been recommended by a co-worker who used to live in CO, and it did not disappoint. My dad had sat out the morning activity but was more than happy to barrel into the water with Connor, which is a good thing because Connor decided to show us that he knew what “under” was as he said “under” then took a step and bobbed his head. Quite scary for a parent, but also thrilling. He’s also somehow figured out how to hold his breath because even when he slipped and went under, he didn’t cough at all when Ed and I fished him out (unnoticed by the 10 year old lifeguard, I might add).

Later that evening, Ed sent Connor out to me to get him ready for a bath, and no sooner had Connor told me “clothes” had he noticed that I was eating a bowl of ice cream – which obviously was intended for him. Ed waited for a bit before coming out to find us both covered in ice cream. Yum!

Day 5 Ed, his dad, and I headed to Keystone for the day while my parents hunkered down with Connor enjoying a book marathon, a little Elmo tickling, and naturally, some sweeping. Connor’s love for the broom probably endears him to my mom. She appreciates a clean place, after all.

Day 6 was back to Breck, cold and windy.

Day 7 the boys headed back to the slopes, but my mom and I went t-shirt and candy shopping while my dad and Connor took a nap. We tried to hook up with them at lunch but missed each other, but it gave Connor a chance to ride a Gondola, which I have to admit didn’t seem to impress him much until he looked out the window and spotted a dog. Then Connor and I headed out to a nifty toy store my mom and I had discovered while we were out earlier in the day. Connor has never been fond of rocking horses – but rocking dogs, that’s totally different.

That evening, we went on a sleigh ride – pulled by HORSES, much to Connor’s delight. It was cold. Just ask my parents. Afterwards, there was a little skit while dinner was prepared, and Connor felt totally comfortable joining right in.

Day 8 was a reverse travel day and thankfully, Connor was once again a total champ about all this travel. It really made the trip bearable. It was super nice having Ed’s dad and brother in the airport because it meant there was someone else to chase Connor around and play with him. They also made for great entertainment on the plane as Connor would pop his head up and peek over the seats at them.

On Sunday, Ed let me sleep in while he took Connor to the zoo. I did get up and manage to get the laundry well underway and the ski gear back in the attic – a task made much easier when Connor is not around wanting to climb up there.

Phew! I’m ready to go back to work for a break!

Elaine

ON the growth chart!

2007-02-23T12:30:00.000-05:00

Today, Connor had his belated 18 month appointment. Not only has he FINISHED immunizations for a few years, but he has gained enough weight to make an appearance on the growth chart my doctor uses. It's not a big number, but I cheered (which caused Connor to cheer) when Dr. R. announced he had made it to the 5th percentile (which is not even the lowest bar!). He's still in the 75th percentile for height and head size. When Dr. R. said he had a big head, Connor grabbed his head and said "big". She about fell over when Connor counted to 10 and was totally impressed with all his yammering in the office. She said that he talks a ton, particularly since he's a boy and boys often talk late. Ed's response to that news "well, I guess he takes after you in some ways". Connor also barely cried when he got his two shots, and was quickly over it when he was rewarded with two stickers. I look forward to finding where he decides to put those two stickers when I come home this evening.

Elaine

Counting, and other new developments

2007-02-16T08:33:00.000-05:00

A couple of days ago, Connor displayed his latest skill - counting to 10. And this is a great skill, since that's about the number of words he seems to add every few days.

Connor enjoyed Ed’s 3-day weekend by hanging out at the zoo all day on Monday. He woke up talking about the zoo (after asking to go the zoo all day on Sunday – but that was not in the cards). Ed and Connor learned that though the grounds of the zoo typically open at sunrise, the zoo doesn’t really open up until 10:00. And on Monday, the grounds were closed until 10 because snow was being cleared at the zoo. So…they spent a couple of hours hanging out in the neighborhood playing in the snow. But boy were they ready when the gates were opened!

On their way home - many hours later - Connor and Ed picked me up from work. Connor was pretty dazed at the time, but later he told me all about the hippo (it's big), elel (also big), the ball - which apparently was an armadillo that Connor got to get very close to. He even got free cookies since we have finally become zoo members. Now that's cool!

This morning, Connor informed Ed he would like to go to the farm. These photos are from our most recent trip there. I’m sure my family will be proud to see Connor riding on the tractor as if he knows what he’s doing. I’m looking forward to warmer weather because then the farm has hayrack rides, which should be quite fun.

Connor is becoming quite adept at building towers and castles (which are remarkably similar) with giant legos. During our last visit to the Building Museum, he and Ed built this: And, it seems like every day I come home he and his nanny have built a new structure, which she informs me must NOT be taken down until mama gets to see it. For a while, I wondered whether it was Connor or his nanny building the structure, but after playing blocks with him a bit yesterday, I'm fairly convinced he plays a major role in the process. I'm sure his Pappy is proud.

Connor also has two friends - Bubba (aka, Isabella) and ZoZo (Zoe), that he really seems happy to see. Bubba shares a nanny with Connor, and she's been gone the past 3 weeks. Surprisingly, he really seemed to miss her. But luckily, Zozo's nanny started bringing her over to play regularly, which seems to work out quite nicely.

Elaine

Happy 18 month birthday!

2007-02-16T07:59:00.000-05:00

Dear Connor,

A few days ago, you turned eighteen months, and I can hardly believe it. You’re changing so fast now, that it’s tough to keep up with you. The day after you turned 17 months, we were playing at the park and you looked up at me and said “bye” quite distinctly before heading off to take care of some important toddler business like running, or climbing, or eating dirt. And a few nights ago, you started telling your dad “ni ni” and waving when you’re ready to drink your bottle of milk, snuggle up, and prepare for bed. Your vocabulary has exploded this month and this, quite frankly, is simultaneously fabulous and nerve-wracking. When we understand you, it’s usually fabulous (unless you’re asking for a “k k”, in which case we can no longer ignore you and pretend we don’t know you want a cookie). But at the same time, it’s super frustrating when you are very clearly telling us you want something and neither your dad nor I have any idea what you’re talking about. You try to be patient with us. You look us right in the eye, say the word slower, and repeat it several times. Still, sometimes we just don’t get it. Sorry about that.

The playground used to be a little bit of a harrowing adventure when we went without a second adult. Now, Connor, you own that equipment. I can start you out at the bottom of the structure, then you climb to the top, and finally slide down on your tummy.

You’ve been honing your climbing skills in a gymnastics class, and your dada reports that you are the only kid who on occasion, will – for no apparent reason – begin running around screaming with pure joy. Those are the moments we live for, Connor. Of course, you will sometimes go to class and spend the whole time conning your dada into going to the water fountain and never really doing any of the class things. You don’t appreciate the stretching at the beginning (after all, the equipment doesn’t have any of those other children on it!) and the end of class is a little boring as well, because there’s a brief activity with a parachute. One would think you would enjoy this, but you are very skeptical.

Your dada hung a Grateful Dead poster at the top of the basement stairs (an appropriate welcome to Grateful Ed’s Brewhouse in our basement) and the first time you saw it, you were totally shocked. You looked at me as if something was really out of place and Connor, I wanted to tell you how much that poster scares me, but I am trying very hard not to project my irrational fears onto your psyche, so instead I smiled and said “Dada’s poster”. Ever since then, whenever you see the poster, you smile and shout “dada”.

You’ve started playing actual games that random people might recognize. For example, you can play ring-around-the-rosey – and you certainly understand you’re supposed to fall down at the end, but you’re more interested in seeing your dad and I on the ground. Perhaps because we have a much greater distance to travel than you. You can also play “round and round the mulberry bush” and you make the most excellent “pop” at the appropriate time. Your dad was singing to you the other night, and he taught you to sing “toot toot” in a couple of appropriate places, and this might be the best yet.

You have also thrown your first, full-on tantrum. It was hard not to laugh at the ridiculousness of it, but I kept a somber face and after giving you a few minutes to go nuts, I explained that we all have bad days sometimes, and lots of people wanted to run into their room, slam the door, and lay down screaming on their rug. Then, I distracted you and it was over. You repeated this feat twice, though you haven’t had to pull it out in the past couple of days. Mostly, I think you were tired when you put on these fine displays. I fear for our future Connor, because you have the will that could only be possessed by your mims’ German relatives.

A few days ago, you totally freaked me out, but I think I have finally recovered. Before your nap, you were talking up a storm about the “zhoo” and the “ba pa” that you enjoy being carried around in. I told you after your nap we could go to the zoo and dada would carry you in the backpack. You took your nap, and after about an hour, you stood up and called for me. I went to your room and you looked me right in the eye and shouted “zhoo” and though I didn’t really mean we would go to the zoo the minute you woke up, I figured you deserved some credit for remembering the promise, so off we went. It was about 40 degrees outside – which means your dad was overheating but normal people like you and I were a little chilled, so we went into the “el le le” house and you stared at those enormous animals for over an hour. This was good, because it meant I could shove a huge amount of food in your mouth because you were distracted. Then we went to the gorilla house and I have to say, Connor, if we ever need a babysitter in a pinch, that mama gorilla might be perfect. She was playing the most exciting game of “sheet” ever with her toddler, one of your favorite games.

You successfully used your potty chair – and dumping it was very exciting. I have no dreams that you’re close to being potty trained, but I figure it can’t hurt for you to get used to the thing. And hey, if you happen to take a shining to it and no longer need diapers – woohoo!

You have learned to climb up on a stool, which provides you access to many things we used to keep out of your hands. You also completed your first couple of painting projects, with no unwanted casualties. We sent these to your grandparents for Valentine’s Day.

The collection of “emma” [animals] in your bed is growing. Sometimes, you insist on sleeping with “do do” the dog, err Siamese cat, just like the good ol’ days. Others, “buh buh” the pink bunny is the only animal that will do. But a few nights, “ssss” your seal is number one and “duh” the duck is also likely to be the animal that has won your heart for the evening.

You have really fallen in love with your nanny, and this is fabulous, because often in the morning when she arrives, you just show her what you’ve been playing with and invite her to come on over. It really is the sweetest thing.

Love,
Mama

MilesTone

2007-02-09T08:39:00.000-05:00

On Thursday, I came home from work, and Ed asked Connor whaT the birds drink. Connor puT on this very impish grin and said "waTer" and, in case you were curious, he drinks milk from a "boTTle". Previously, these words were "wawawa" and "baba". So now, noT only does Connor have an ever expanding vocabulary ThaT is nearly impossible To keep up with, folks besides Ed, myself, and Connor's nanny can even decipher some of thaT vocabulary. Amazing. Simply amazing.

On the downside, I think all of these new words are keeping him awake at night - or causing him to wake up early. This is not good for anyone's sleep, and I'm hoping he settles back into an 8:00PM - sometime after 6:00AM pattern very soon. Not sure I can cope much longer.

Nature vs. Nurture

2007-01-31T20:22:00.000-05:00

There's a longstanding debate about the relative importance of "nature" - an individual's innate qualities - and "nurture" - an individual's environment - in determining or causing personal traits. Watching Connor change has me fascinated in this debate. Some things, seem very clear. For example, when he wants to know where his dog is, he holds his hands out in front of him, palms up, with a quizzical look on his face and says "Dodo?". This very clearly comes from his second nanny, Emma, who used to do this. And, when I ask him if he wants to do something, of late, he's taken to saying "shu", which makes sense to me as I often say "sure" in response to Ed's queries. Both of these habits seem firmly entrenched in the nurture side of the debate.

There are other things about Connor that can just as easily be attributed to nature. For example, he's incredibly stubborn, just like his dad (and me, I suppose). Ed and I both feel like this is not his most endearing trait, but it's hardly his fault, so we try to cope with the force he is as best we can. He also seems very smart to us, just like me (and Ed, I suppose). We're a little more proud of passing this on.

But one thing in particular has me troubled. I am much more sensitive than Ed. When it's cold, I seem to be colder than him; when I stub my toe, it seems to hurt me more (of course, I did give birth with NO pain medicine, but that's another story). When Ed and I first met, he thought I was his brother, apparently. He would occasionally try and roughhouse around, to which - in classic wimp style - I would say "ow". Ed would then look at me and say "that couldn't possibly have hurt you" and then he would inflict the same pain on himself, "proving" that it didn't hurt. I had to explain to him that when you do something to yourself, you're expecting it, and it cannot possibly be the same. So now Ed treats me more like the princess I am.

A couple of nights ago, Connor bonked me on the head with his Little People lion. It was some sort of game that Connor made up, to which I told Connor "Mommy doesn't like to play that game. Please don't bonk me with the lion." He then went over and nailed Ed - right in the glasses. Ed also told him it hurt and asked him not to do that. Connor then took a step back, looked right at Ed, and hit himself with the lion, as if to say "that couldn't possibly hurt you". I would've thought a behavior such as this could be squarely attributed to "nurture", but Connor has never seen Ed do this. Apparently, "nature" runs deeper than I ever suspected possible. I'm very scared.

Elaine

Squirt bottle

2007-01-30T10:36:00.000-05:00

Connor learned the joy of the squirt bottle today. After a while, I told him he could practice his new skill with Dad when he took a bath tonight. Seems like a good idea to me!

Elaine

Swimming!

2007-01-28T20:02:00.000-05:00

A local rec center has a fabulous swimming pool. It has a gentle slope in, much like a beach, which means that Connor can approach the water on his terms, rather than having to get in all at once.

Connor loves this pool. When we tell him we're going to go swimming, he starts talking about water [wahwahwah], and is very happy to put his toys in the swim bag in preparation. Typically, we stay a couple of hours, and usually he would gladly stay longer. Trouble is, after about that length of time, he is thoroughly chilled. That, and all of his fingers and toes look like prunes. Ed purchased Connor a wetsuit after our first visit, just to increase the chance that Connor had of staying warm.

Sadly, on Sunday, the water was colder than normal. This didn’t slow him down at first, but it certainly slowed Ed and me down. And, though we tried to take him out more often than normal, we had a tough time really warming him back up. This meant we had to cut our visit a bit shorter than usual.

Afterwards, Connor was completely exhausted – though that didn’t stop him from playing his new game of “uh-oh” with Ed in the backseat of the car. I think Connor enjoyed it more than Ed, which makes sense since Ed is the retriever of all things “accidentally” dropped.

Connor said his name for the first time this weekend - or at least something that resembles his name. He also decided that along with "dodo" and "bubba" [translation: doggie and bunny] he needs to sleep with "duh" [duck] as well. All I can say is, it's getting pretty crowded in that bed, but he sleeps through the night and is a breeze to put into bed.

Elaine

All things are possible

2007-01-25T09:31:00.001-05:00

Yesterday, I forgot to bring my lunch with me to work, so I went across the street to get some Chinese food for lunch. The fortune in my cookie said "all things are possible". And today, at least, it seems that might be true.

This morning, Connor did not wake up until 7 AM. That is nothing short of a miracle.

I am giddy with excitement.

I am certain he is growing because he's also been eating like a trucker, at least at lunch - though dinners, even the ones not consisting of popcorn, have also been going pretty well.
But, lest you get the impression my little man is getting too big, as you can see, he can still fit inside my bathroom sink - and he seems to enjoy it. He can only go in there right before bath because he's likely to douse himself with water, a skill he seems quite proud of.

This morning, Connor learned the lesson that you should push tall towers of blocks away from your body rather than towards your body. Apparently a couple landed on his head - ouch!

Who knew TV could be so great?

2007-01-25T09:17:00.000-05:00

For Christmas this year, I made a video compilation of photos from Connor's first 16 months. It's a project I hope to repeat each year, not only because it took me a while to learn to use the software, but it's sort of a nice look back at the year. At first, the video could only be played on computer, but thanks to some work Ed did, it can now also be played on a DVD player. Some odd things happened in the conversion, but it's certainly of suitable quality.

To our knowledge, Connor has never seen anything on TV that actually interested him (though we suspect there was a period of about a week where his last nanny let him watch PBS - he busted her one day by pointing to the remote and saying her name). He's been privvy to a few football games, but after the excitement of seeing a ball wears off, he's likely to just go back to doing something that in his mind is much more fun - like coloring, or reading, or running around wildly. All of this has changed. Ed popped in the DVD of Connor and Connor was completely impressed with himself. Anytime a photo of Ed or I came on, he would identify "mama" or "dada". And, with each new photo, he would light up and say "da" pointing to the screen. That's about 500 utterances of "da".

The best part of the movie was when it got to one of only three live action shots in the movie (I had trouble getting the movie from the camcorder to the computer, sigh). There is a little clip of Connor when he was just starting to walk. He was holding on to Ed's hands, getting ready to walk to me. Connor let go, waved his arms back and forth to steady himself, and then fell right at my feet. Connor laughed. If only Ed and I could go inside Connor's head and know what he was thinking. Was he thinking "Wow, that kid on the screen sure looks funny when he walks" or was he thinking "Wow, I used to walk like that? It's amazing I didn't break my neck." I guess we'll never know.

Snow Day!

2007-01-24T07:39:00.000-05:00

There are few things Ed loves more than snow. So when we went all of December without even a hint of the fluffy stuff, Ed was starting to get nervous. But, to Ed’s great excitement, on Sunday, it finally snowed. I was happy for the sole reason that it meant the snowsuit I had purchased for Connor at a consignment sale earlier in the year would actually be used. Connor thought the snow was OK, but nothing all that special. It is, after all, cold and wet. But, it also made the playground equipment very slippery. Connor started to enjoy the snow a bit more when Ed brought us a big container full and we could play with it in our warm kitchen. It ended up being quite a project.

Elaine

I’m not tired!

2007-01-24T07:37:00.000-05:00

There’s a poem by Sandra Boynton where the mama bear is trying to get the young bear to go to sleep. Eventually, after hiding in many places around the house, the young bear drops.

Last Saturday, I went to a workshop on how to fire a gas kiln, and Connor and Ed did their very best reenactment of this little verse. Ed tried to get Connor to take a nap, but Connor was having none of it. Connor even went so far as to climb into a clothes basket and cover up, but at the moment he was about to fall asleep, he bolted up. In the end, Ed won the battle when he went to pick me up. After being in the car for approximately 30 seconds, Connor dropped. He was sleeping soundly enough that when we got back home, Ed was able to toss Connor into his crib where he slept for almost 2 hours. That’s one tired toddler.

Where's Connor, Take 2

2007-01-19T08:53:00.000-05:00

I’ve been looking for Connor everywhere. Has anybody seen him?

Oh right…I left him with the freshly popped popcorn. That plus some french fries should make a nice dinner. No…I’m not kidding about that. Well, I guess there was some ketchup involved as well (and at least some idiots think that counts as a vegetable). Oh well…at least I got to eat a hot dinner – without a kid on my lap or standing by my chair saying “mama, mama, mama…”.

Red Pants and Mom's Coming!

2007-01-16T08:46:00.000-05:00

Last year, my friend Kellee was posted in China. Upon Connor’s birth, she sent us some bright red pants, that presumably children in China wear. Connor loves these pants, ridiculous as they may be. In fact, he has loved them to death. Today, Ed tossed them in the trash. The seams were ripped, the embroidery was coming out, and they no longer reach Connor's ankles. Connor will miss his beloved "Chinese pants". They were always his first choice if they were hanging in his closet.

And, in case you ever wondered what Connor and Ed look like when I'm approaching, here's a good example.

Dear Mims,

2007-01-14T08:53:00.000-05:00

Please send more cookies. I only have FOUR left from Christmas.

Love,
Connor

Happy 17 month birthday

2007-01-12T20:37:00.000-05:00

Dear Connor,

This month, I think your dad and I finally breathed a sigh of relief. It’s as if we have finally figured out how to parent you – or at least we’re no longer worried about how much we’re screwing up. We have this very odd feeling that our lives are under control and we’re not under constant watch for whatever is going to go wrong or throw us a curve ball. Yeah, I know we’re totally going to pay for no longer being on constant watch, but hopefully we’ll always remember what a great month this was.

For starters, we traveled over Christmas and you slept…in your own bed…every night! The first night was a little rough getting to bed, in fact your cousins were hoping that you wouldn’t scare Santa off, but after that you and doggie and bunny hopped in bed and went to sleep. You seemed to enjoy hanging out with your cousins and, as always, you were a champ on the airplane (though I might suggest SLEEPING the next time our flight is delayed and it’s LATE).

You’ve become a master at opening and closing doors. When your dad comes barreling down the hall after you, you’ve been known to slip in the door and shove it in his face. He totally deserves this.

You have also learned that you can take advantage of the fact that your bedroom door is almost always slightly ajar. A few nights ago, you discovered that your skinny little arm can fit between the slats in your crib with ease. You can then play with the door a bit and it will open – tahdah! You’ve shown a clear understanding of your newfound power. For example, if you would like to get our attention, you now stand up in bed, open the door, and let out a wallop of a holler. It’s quite impressive. You also use the skill to check out things throughout the night, on occasion. Last night, you opened your door about every 3 hours, looked around and decided nothing good was going on, closed it and went back to sleep. Sometimes in the morning I hear you open and close your door a few times before summoning me to your bed with that sweet, sweet “mama” (which is a lot sweeter when it comes AFTER 6:15!).

When once the jokes were typically on you, now you’re playing them on others. The classic is getting a Cheerio or blueberry in your hand, holding your hand out to someone as you put on an extra sweet smile, and then after the person thanks you and tries to actually claim the item you are offering, you shove it in your mouth and laugh. You’ll also tell your dad a cow says “bah” and other things that crack you up.

I won’t go so far as to say you’ve become a “good eater”, but when you do decide to eat, it can be quite impressive. You might be testing out a career path at some meals, because you’ve been known to shove half a pear in your mouth – in one bite – and somehow you manage to swallow it. Oh baby, this could be big some day. Showing that you may not be my child after all, you started eating raisins. I think these are disgusting, even more so when you decide to spit them out. I’m grateful you seem to be done with the spitting out phase. Ick!

You’ve shown you have a real grip these days. I think your dad is never going to give you another cereal bar since the first thing you like to do when you’re handed one is squish it. But on occasion, you put that grip to good use. We went on a bike ride and you carried a toy giraffe for the whole ride. This morning at gymnastics you brought a little monkey with you, and though your dad assured you it would be easier to climb if you didn’t have something in your hand, you weren’t going to test that theory. Besides, Monkey probably wanted to play on the equipment too!

Although I have always been fairly convinced that you have a lot going on in your mind, it’s become very clear to others as well. You’ve started to play pretend with your toys and this is so fun to watch. Most of your stuffed animals and Little People have bathed, eaten supper, hidden, or participated in other activities. One of your favorite games to play with them is “ring around the rosie”. You say “ashes, ashes” and knock them all down. You have also shown that you might make an excellent only child because now not only will you kick the ball and chase it by yourself, you will also twirl around if someone sings “ring around the rosie” and then fall down. It’s sort of cute and sad at the same time. You also show that you know what’s going on by being able to follow all sorts of commands but this afternoon, Connor, you showed that you can solve problems too. I asked you to get me a tissue so I could blow my nose (I was folding laundry, trying to keep you busy so you wouldn’t be “folding” as well, which to most people looks more like “unfolding”). You went into the bathroom, but I could see that you couldn’t quite reach the box of tissues. So you unwound a reasonable amount of toilet paper, tore a piece off, and brought it to me. You also have an amazing ability to generalize. If you see a bird in a book, you will point to our pet birds. If you see a dog in a book, you will point to a dog toy as well. Tonight, we were flipping through a book and when it got to the “goose”, you bopped me on the head, as if we were playing “duck, duck, goose”, which is something we play frequently. Very impressive.

Your projects continue to keep you busy. Above, you're building a drumset. At the Building Museum, you were playing a typical game of "containers" where you dump the contents of one container into another. Only trouble was, the contents of your container were fish crackers, and the other toddler watching the game didn't seem to get the game and kept EATING the crackers. I got the feeling she was looking at you saying "no wonder you're so skinny kid, you have to EAT food, not dump it back and forth, geez". When the crackers were gone, you went to do some other important activity, and I'm sure you were thinking "what the heck happened to all those crackers?".

Ball has turned into a one syllable word most days, and I do miss the “bawa” days, but I’m getting used to the “baaaw” days as well. Some nights you’re like a zombie chanting “moooore” and I only hope it’s never in the context of wanting to suck my brains out.

This month, your dad made three attempts on your life, and you came out unscathed. First, he left the gate at the top of the stairs open. You and I were alone in the house, and I noticed you had been in the kitchen for quite some time – not making a sound. Because you are my child, I knew this could be cause for concern, so I peeked in to see what was going on. There you were, standing at the top of the stairs, looking down – but not daring to take a step. I didn’t know you could show that sort of restraint. Then, your dad left us alone in the house when he ran to the grocery store. He left a pot on the stove and the contents CAUGHT ON FIRE. The fire was contained in the pot, but let me tell you, waking up to the smoke detector from a nap is not fun. You correctly described the situation when you waved your hands frantically and said “hot”. No damage done. Finally, today we were driving in a strange neighborhood and your dad said to me “look at that house” and I did, and then I guess your dad had a change of heart at the last minute because he shouted “car” or “watch out” or something else, because as it turns out, another car was running though a stop sign, about to t-bone us. Because of your dad’s alert, I swerved out of the way. At first, I was totally grateful to your dad for noticing the car, but then he reminded me that if he hadn’t told me to look at this strange house, I might have seen it coming myself.

Before I started writing this post, your dad looked at me and said “you know, he brings a lot of joy into our lives”, and Connor, that pretty much sums it up.

Love,
Mama

Tools around the house

2007-01-09T19:46:00.000-05:00

On occasion, Connor prefers to sit across the table from me at Isabella’s chair rather than his own chair. This is fine, except it means that Ed or I have to either keep reaching over to refill Connor’s area with food if he has finger food, or we need to move our chair so we can help him with the spoon. This evening, Connor found a very long spoon amongst Ed’s beer equipment. We’re thinking it just might work…

And, in case you wondered what Connor looked like when he saw the fire in the pan a few days ago, here it is. He’s practicing saying “hot” and waving his hands up and down. Hopefully he won’t need to use the word in relation to fire anytime soon.

Connor doesn't have pants on, because it's after the second diaper change since my arrival home. Given that there's little chance we'll go outside after dark, I figure it's not worth it to try and keep him contained on the changing table long enough to get his pants back on. Unlike me, he seems to actually produce body heat, so running around without pants doesn't bother him. To the contrary, he enjoys it.

Elaine

Unseasonably warm weather

2007-01-09T08:41:00.000-05:00

Are you kidding me? Is it really 70 degrees Fahrenheit - in January?!? If things keep heating up like this, we may be screwed come summer, but I'm loving it now. It's meant extra bike rides for the three of us and a great trip to the zoo. It's as if all of the animals knew they were on borrowed time as well. The Orangutan was climbing overhead - something I've longed to see at the zoo but never witnessed, the tiger cubs were scrambling all over, and the panda made an impressive sound as she snapped a large piece of bamboo in half. After a while, we were reminded why we should bring the stroller with us. Connor is getting a bit heavy to carry around and he's not always interested in walking.

While we were on the bike path, we stopped at a creek so Ed and Connor could share the age-old enjoyment of throwing rocks in the creek. We thought the giraffe that Connor had diligently carried throughout the bike ride was done for, but Connor held on. I'm staring to wonder if our scheduled ski trip is a good idea. I hear there's going to be SNOW there!

Elaine

More Christmas...and burning down the house

2007-01-08T16:47:00.000-05:00

On Christmas morning, Anna and Emily bounded downstairs to where Ed and I were sleeping to see if Santa had paid them a second visit. It was, after all, shortly after 7AM. (Connor had awakened at 5:30, but my dad rocked him back to sleep so the two of them hung out until about 7:30 or so.) Santa had already dropped quite a load of loot at their house, but I guess he figured he could pony up a little more at Grandma's. Each of the grandchildren received a pre-assembled gingerbread house. Lucky for me, Connor decided he wasn't into frosting and candy, so I got to assemble his! After putting him down for his nap, Anna and Emily helped put the finishing touches on the house. Can you see how relaxed I look? I'm not sure if it's the Midwestern air or having my parents around - or sleeping so late! - but looking at this picture makes me feel younger than many of the photos taken in the past year.

In between opening more presents, Connor hung out with his little people. Ed was able to combine the little people and a toy where you push buttons to make characters pop up into quite a game, sending little people flying all over the place. I guess this is what happens when boys play with toys. My mom reports that in all the years of the girls playing with this toy, a spectacle like this was never created. All I can say is - watch out! I have a feeling Connor and Ed have many more tricks up their sleeves.

Although Ed appears to really like Connor and me in this photo, yesterday's actions bring this into question. I put Connor down for a nap, and decided I would nap with him. I heard Ed moving about in the kitchen, but didn't think much of it. He headed out to the grocery store, and then about a half hour later, Connor and I were greeted with the smoke detector going off. Turns out, Ed had put some chick peas on the stove and left - forgetting to turn them off. This caused them to catch on fire - which caused enough smoke to send the detector into action. Luckily, the fire was very small and contained to the pot. Imagine - smoke detector wailing, Connor initially crying but then sort of getting into the excitement, and me grabbing the pan with my sleeve wrapped around the handle a few times and putting it outside. (The same hand, by the way, that sent me to the ER with burns a few weeks ago!) As soon as Connor saw the pot, he started waiving his hand up and down saying "hot, hot". "Yes Connor, very hot. Please do not touch." I think Connor enjoyed the dousing with water that came next. No damage done - except a nap interrupted. I told Ed he'd have to be more clever about attempting to do us in the next time. Thankfully, our smoke detector had a battery in it. I can name at least a few times in the past year when this wasn't true - because it had gone off during some regular use of the oven (probably me burning cookies) and not been replaced right away. Guess we'll be very diligent about that now!

We celebrated my mom's birthday with a trip to an old train station that has a science center for kids and a few Christmas displays. Amazing us yet again, Connor took a spin on a train with my sister's children. I didn't think he would go for being separated from me, but he seemed to enjoy is moderately - even when I let him get out of my sight as he rounded the track behind the tree. The conductor kindly let me hang out right by the track so that I could snag Connor from the train if he found it unpleasant.

All in all, it's hard to keep up with those girls!

Lost! One Siamese Cat...Answers to the Name of Doggie

2007-01-04T16:30:00.000-05:00

Last Christmas, Connor received a stuffed animal from his Uncle Mike. Later that day, Ed and I pondered whether the animal was a cat or dog, with input from both Mike and Ed's mom. In the end, no one was truly confident, but we decided to call it a dog. Since then, I've been trying to get Connor to like "doggie", because every sleep book I read suggested that bonding with a stuffed animal could help a kid sleep. The theory is that they wake up, see their good friend stuffed animal, and fall back to sleep. I was certainly skeptical - because Connor is not often impressed with anything other than the real thing. After all, Connor has probably spent all of 60 minutes - in his full 16 months of life - sucking on a pacifier (and looking back, I think I recorded every one of those moments with excitement in this blog) but is quite fond of his human pacifier, me. But, in the end, I figured it couldn't hurt. Ed, also skeptical, correctly pointed out that the trouble with having a favorite stuffed animal is that if it gets lost, we could be screwed.

Well...it happened. Connor finally started liking doggie, only to have doggie get lost somewhere between my parent's home and ours. So, we did what any good parents would do. We checked all the lost and founds at the two airports, begged the airline to search the plane just one more time, and then turned to eBay. Thankfully, Ed was able to locate the stuffed animal (the man can't remember his phone number but remembered the brand of stuffed toy his son had received a year ago). In doing so, he learned that our beloved doggie is actually a cat. A siamese cat. This is even more funny to us because when Anna and Emily (ages 9 and 7.5) first met doggie, they looked at us confused and said "that's not a dog, it's a cat!". To which I replied - in very undiplomatic fashion - "well, we're calling it a dog".

When doggie arrived from the nice eBay store, I opened the package, tore the tag off, put doggie back in the package and then brought it out to Connor. I told him doggie got lost at Mims' house and she mailed him back to us. Connor wore a really huge grin when he saw doggie. Ed's comment "and the lies begin". I am now bidding on two more "doggies" on eBay, just in case this doggie gets lost. Connor now loves doggie even more, so I guess it's true... absence makes the heart grow fonder.

When Ed first learned doggie was a cat he told me that I would have to break the news to Connor. For now, I'm sticking with the story that it's a dog.

Merry Christmas!

2007-01-02T18:00:00.000-05:00

After a brief hiatus from blogging, I am now back in action. The excuses for the delay are numerous - the biggies being that today I was on a televised panel discussion. It was only CSPAN2 (reaired on CSPAN 3x so far!) - nothing exciting like ESPN or Lifetime - but I was very nervous about it and needed lots of time to think about it. Nothing embarrassing happened and a few folks have e-mailed to say it actually went well. Naturally, we traveled for Christmas, which accounts for a few more of the lapsed days, and then there's been a general lack of creative energy as I battle a cold for what seems like the millionth time this year.

Over Christmas, we were at my parent's and sister's homes, and it was really quite fun. One day, we were going to go to a mall that has a train that delivers your food - but the line was way too long, so we opted for the food court. My sister had already scouted the area out by the time we arrived and found a play area sponsored by Crayola. Connor jumped right into the area though it was filled with kids that resembled banshees. Much to our amazement, Connor didn't seem phased in the least, and actually went around the play area several times.

He also learned to say "Anna" at just the right time. While I believe he does know which one of his cousins is named "Anna", he was known to call both of them by that name. He also substituted "Emma" for "Emily" a few days. I guess if he doesn't figure out the "lee" part at some point, perhaps she'll consider changing her name. What do you think, Emily? My dad, Ed, and I chased the three of them around a playground that my sister and I used to play at. It was fun to see the cousins climbing around. Connor had to be taken to the car earlier than the bigger girls because I was worried about his un-mittened hands.

While vacationing, Connor took care a lot of projects, including stirring and sorting Cheerios for Aunt Linda. Her Tupperware and her dog were both big hits. Those, and the ten million varietes of cookies she plied us with on Christmas Eve day.

Connor napped through the wild part of present opening on Christmas Eve, but everyone saved a few presents to open with him when he got up from his nap. He seemed to enjoy tearing the paper off packages, but was more interested in playing with whatever toy was inside than he was in opening the next gift. He was able to make it through all the presents in a few days. By the time my mom's birthday came around a few days later, he was certainly willing to help her open more stuff - and he was very impressed that she got a whole bunch of fancy golf balls. The next morning, he kept talking about "ba-was" until finally, he found the package and showed me he was not talking about his "ba-was", he was talking about Mims's "ba-was".

Connor's bike seat was installed and since we are experiencing unseasonably warm temperatures, we've been able to take him on a few rides. Woohoo!

Elaine

Day SEVEN!

2006-12-20T12:10:00.000-05:00

We've entered day seven of the Clifford marathon here. Interrupted (thankfully) by a Christmas present delivery from Uncle Mike. Connor is now the proud owner of the Little People A to Z Learning Zoo and it is everything I dreamed it would be. You should see Connor trying to balance as many of the 26 different animals as he can at once. This morning's favorites were the walrus, lion, elephant, and seal. The seal scores points because he has a red ball. Woohoo!

Connor has probably heard the story "Clifford's Opposites" no less than 23 million times in the past week. And yet, Connor keep requesting it. Feel free to drop by if you feel like reading a book!

Elaine

Happy 16 month birthday!

2006-12-13T08:56:00.000-05:00

Last weekend, I heard a song on NPR that really hit home. The words of the chorus are “you ruined everything, in the nicest way”. And Connor, that is so true. During the interview, the artist talked about how after a child is born – particularly in the first three months – a parent’s old self dies, and like a phoenix, the new self must rise from the ashes. And while this initially struck me as a bit dramatic, I’m not really sure it is. Perhaps the most amazing thing about the whole process in my case – and I think this is typical – is that I can hardly remember what my life was like before you were born. This might be a product of sleep deprivation, but I think that explanation would be a bit shallow at this point – particularly since in the past month I think we’ve only had really one brutally rough night and early morning. I think it’s because my life is so full with you, that it’s hard to remember what I’m missing. Staying out late and sleeping in late the next day are wonderful things, I assure you (and someday I hope to experience them again), but watching someone go from doing seemingly nothing besides eating and sleeping to running, climbing, talking, and laughing is totally worth the trade-off. But, if you wanted to throw your dad and I a bone on occasion and sleep until 9:00 AM some weekend, we would be totally cool with that.

Today was a real treat. Because your nanny was sick, we were able to spend the whole day together, which isn’t something we get to do too often – usually we have your dad around as well. We visited a wonderful children’s bookstore for story hour, which came complete with a dog I had forgotten about. Although you didn’t seem to be totally into the whole group interaction thing, you surprised me when the storyteller stopped and you signed “more” and also kept signing “book”. I think you could’ve done without the songs in between books, but those restless children next to us needed a break. They just don’t grasp how cool it is for someone to be reading – particularly a new book. When the dog showed up, that was even cooler, which prompted you to walk right up to the front of the group, where you hung out for the remainder of the story.

You are really growing up now, because not only have you mastered the concept of more, you have taken it the direction most people take it which is “more is better”. So, where we used to be able to stick one toy in your left hand and another in your right, you now think this is not nearly enough stuff to carry around. I’ve seen the Little People in your hands number five. I fear it is as much because you want to carry a bunch of things somewhere as it is a desire to keep your things to yourself and not let anyone else mess them up. I suppose it was bound to happen.

You have also shown that we should do our best as parents to keep you away from drugs and other addictive substances. I’m hopeful that Frosted Mini-Wheats are not the gateway drug that they appear to be. Oh, how you love your precious shredded wheat. Prior to you, your dad and I never had this marvelous substance in our home. But, Isabella brought some one day, and like all good drugs – the first one’s free. And from the moment you got your paw on one, you were hooked. So much so that when you see the box of shredded wheat, you get very excited (even if you’ve just eaten), begging for more. And you need three. One for your mouth plus one for each of your hands. You love your shredded wheat so much that I have taken to calling it crack. While you are more than happy to hurl just about anything – oh the agony you go through when your precious cereal is in your hand. You want to throw it, but you don’t want to hurt it. So, you don’t. You cling to them until the first piece has dissolved in your mouth and you can reload. Sometimes when I’m not done with dinner and you’re ready for me to be, I lure you back to your chair with a couple of shredded wheats. I want to be supportive of your habit, after all.

You are also obsessed with balls - or bawas. Kicking them, throwing them, pointing to them, carrying them. Anything...

You’ve become expert at heading down the slide on your tummy and your shoes cause you absolutely no pause at all. You can open and close the doors and windows on your house, playing peek-a-boo. You hide under sheets, know just what to do when I say “dogpile Daddy” and you’ve even started calling him “Ed” on occasion – which would torture some other daddies, but yours seems to be fine with it.

Your laugh, Connor, is contagious. And you always keep us guessing about what will be funny. For example, I wouldn’t have guessed that seeing lots of monkeys in a book or a little caterpillar go from small to big would be so funny – but you know it’s coming and you can hardly slow down enough for your dad or I to read the words – and then when the right page arrives, you laugh. You also think it’s funny whenever you see a dog where you’re not expecting one. When we were launching Little People into the bath to go swimming yesterday that was also terribly funny.

You’re an ace at identifying body parts – from toes to nose – on yourself, in pictures, and on others. You seem to understand almost everything your dad or I says, which may mean we need to change what we say – and in some cases I’ve started the age-old trick of spelling something if I want to make sure you don’t overhear something. I figure I have at least a couple of weeks before you can spell.

I’m glad you ruined my life. It’s been an amazing 16 months.

Elaine

He's so much fun now!

2006-12-10T21:21:00.000-05:00

Those are the words Ed just said to me. And he’s so right. Last weekend, we headed out to a park that has actual farm animals – complete with a big red barn. This is very cool to us City Slickers. The park also has equestrian competitions taking place that visitors can watch. One person let us give her horse a pat-pat, which was quite exciting. The park also has bleachers to walk across – and though I doubt Connor thought he needed support from Dad, I’m glad Dad was there to give it.

Today, Connor showed that he may be endowed with my musical talent rather than Ed’s – which is a good thing because Ed was so bad at playing trumpet that his band director in grade school told him that if he just pushed the buttons and pretended to play during the concert, nobody would know he hadn’t played. And while I think it’s very sad that a teacher would say this to a student, I also think it’s very funny that it was said to Ed – who is really good at nearly everything he does. I can assure all who are worried about Ed’s ego that he did not suffer irreparable damage from the incident. Though Connor hasn’t shown Ed up on the trumpet (yet), Connor schooled Ed on the kazoo – a kazoo that was a gift from Santa. Connor seems to enjoy his kazoo, but I do not think he would think the visit to Santa was worth the prize. But I do. It’s been great watching Ed’s failed kazoo attempts.

Also the budding artist, Connor enjoys coloring at his little table – and has recently grasped the concept of PAPER being an important component of his artistic endeavors. Grandparents…clear your refrigerators!

But what is it that makes Connor so fun? It’s the way he runs to the door to greet Ed and me with this huge grin. And the way he chases Ed around the house, screaming right before he pounces. There are balls everywhere in our house – and Connor can kick them down the hallway – until he sees his dog on a string, which is nearly always a distraction. Connor has probably put a couple of miles on his shoes with that dog yapping at his heels. We also love his giggle that flows so freely when he lays on a sheet and Ed and I swing him above the bed. Fun times…fun times.

Elaine

Harnessing the Power of the Internet

2006-12-06T09:54:00.000-05:00

Last night, I went to the emergency room. Thankfully, it was for a few small second degree burns that I gave myself (I should really stop cooking!) rather than something related to Connor. While I was sitting in the waiting room, I saw parents of 3 babies come into the ER. In each case, the babies were either crying or slumped over the shoulder of a parent, the parent's eyes were filled with fear, and I took a moment to be thankful for Connor's very good health. But I am keenly aware that there are many parents who have to close their eyes each night, terrified of the health issues their children face.

So here it is folks...the grandest experiment of all. Can a bunch of loosely related people give Jack a shot at life?

My friend Vickie knows Jack's parents. In fact, she and her husband Benjie attended their wedding. This holiday season, they're asking us all to dip into our pocketbooks and try and raise money to fund a bone marrow transplant for Jack. The bright side of the story (if there is one), is that there are three potential matches here in the United States. But it's going to take $350,000 to bridge the gap between Manilla (where Jack is) and the potential bone marrow donors. So this Christmas, Vickie and Benjie want to send Jack's parents a check for $5,000 - which will be used for Jack's medical expenses.

All you have to do is pledge at least $25 to Jack's fundable account (click on the link). If enough people pledge enough money, Jack will receive a Christmas gift of at least $5,000 that will be used for his medical expenses. The account expires on Christmas - so time is of the essence here.

Thanks!
Elaine

Belated photos from Thanksgiving

2006-12-03T08:00:00.000-05:00

We had a great Thanksgiving with Ed's family. Connor got to hang out with three of his cousins - including Samantha, who is only 8 weeks old. And, as my sister-in-law noted - that makes Sam about 1 year different than Connor and Katie (who are exactly 3 weeks apart in age) and it is AMAZING to look at Sam and think about how much Connor and Katie have changed.

We began our adventure on a shuttle bus, and this was very exciting because it was a moving vehicle without a carseat. Nothing like a little danger to get the adrenaline pumping before a plane ride. The rain outside made the trip all the better. Connor was his usual champ on the airplane, after playing a few rounds of seat tray up, seat tray down, playing peek-a-boo with the willing folks behind us, and then settling in for a nap on my lap. We were spared the repeated trips up and down the aisle since Connor's slumber was sufficient to take up most of the trip.

Connor is the only boy in his generation, so visiting cousins always provides the opportunity to experience a whole new set of toys. Connor fit right in, putting his lipstick on one morning in front of Sleeping Beauty's mirror. It's important to look your best, you know. And, it's hard to get a little mirror time when competing with two cousins who spend their days wrestling toys from other kids. But, never fear, after a few days of getting toys swiped left and right, Connor had decided enough was enough and on the last day of our visit, Ed saw him walk up to Katie and snag a toy.

On the way back home, we waited in the airport a bit, where Connor got to enjoy a blueberry scone. As he walked around checking out everyone's computers, books, and other oddities - he kept jamming huge pieces of scone in his mouth so he could barely keep it closed when chewing. It made it all the better as he stared uncomfortably at a few people in the airport with a look that clearly let them know they were weird. And of course, the implication that he was normal.

Elaine

Can he read, too?

2006-12-01T07:00:00.000-05:00

I think Connor is reading this blog. I think this because twice, in the past few weeks, I have written something about Connor that was true at the time, only to have it not be true a few weeks later. First, I pointed out that Connor didn’t pull his toy dog around like the manufacturers intended only to watch him start pulling that toy around nearly nonstop. And in the 15 month post, I pointed out that Connor was getting “it”, but not including sleep as part of “it”. But then, miracle of all miracles, Connor not only went to bed on time while visiting his grandparents for Thanksgiving (a feat he has accomplished in several cities), he STAYED in bed and SLEPT – for 11 consecutive hours, for four consecutive nights. And when he woke up, he didn’t scream, he just called out “Mama? Mama?” seemingly asking if I was there and did I want to play yet? And I was there and “yes”, I was ready to get up and play – and not just because Ed was a total bed hog while we were on vacation making me want to leap from bed, but because I, too, had slept.

Though Connor did not knock Dr. G's socks off with his weight gain over the past three months, he - shall we say - cruised through all the cognitive development stuff. Connor started the visit out by showing he knew what each of the animals on the office walls were, complete with a "roar" for the lion and a hand up in the air for the elephant going "snore" as he does in Sandra Boynton's Going To Bed Book. Next, he showed Dr. G. that he can say at least five words - mama, dada, Emma (his nanny), Bella (the girl he shares the nanny with - which sounds more like Bubba), and ball (which sounds like "bawa" and I assure you I will miss that "bawa" when it turns into a true "ball"). He also has hippo and pappy - which is still whispered, because apparently it's a very secret thing to have a pappy. And naturally, he responded "nah" to some questions I asked him during the visit but also waived his hand and said "da" which has become a consistent form of the word "yes" as well. He showed Dr. G he could walk, run, and climb as he moved about the office. Perhaps most impressive to Dr. G was that Connor can stack 5 blocks. He can sign and understands "more" and "book" and these are very useful to Connor since if he could do one thing in life, it would be to sit and read books all day.

And, just in case Connor is reading this, I want him to know that if he has time, he can feel free to fill-in other cool things he did for the Dr. that I can't think of right now.

Elaine