My attempts to slow the passing of time are failing miserably. How can it be that my baby boy is nearing 2 years old already??? I absolutely love watching him grow, and each "phase" we go through seems better than the last, but why does it have to come so quickly!!!??? I don't like that one bit.
***UPDATED*** I forgot to note that as of Wednesday, April 8, Brax is binky-free!!!! No more "ni-nites!" He's such a big boy.
HEIGHT/WEIGHT/TOOTH COUNT: 36 in, almost 27 lbs., holding steady at 12 teeth. Getting these canines in has not been fun!
PERSONALITY: Mr. Social, very expressive, outgoing and personable. Adapts well to change.
VOCABULARY: Brax will repeat anything, and now regularly speaks without "prompting." (Before we would have to drag it out of him--"Say ______!" Now he converses voluntarily!
Clothing: Hat, shirt, pants, socks, shoes, coat
Body parts he says (he identifies more than he actually verbalizes): Hair, head, eye, nose (I love how he says it--"naws"), teeth, neck, knee, back, hands, feet, cheeks, leg, toes, rice
Animals: Cat, cow, dog, bunny, bird, duck, horse
Food: Milk, water, eggs, yogurt ("'gurt"), Kix, chicken ("tsicken"), peas, beans, cookie, cheese ("tseez"), sauce ("sowse"-this means either applesauce or ketchup-he loves to dip his food in ketchup!), noodle, cracker, ice, ham
Outdoors: Sun, moon, grass, shovel ("shubbel"), dirt, rocks, street, lawnmower ("mo-mows"), car, home, outside, bat, ball
Indoors: Steps, door ("doe"), show (meaning cartoons), bath, bubbles, books, toys, blocks, trash
Shapes: Heart, circle
Randoms: Up, down, out, in, more ("mow"),ow, no (a classic toddler favorite), yes/yeah, please ("peas"), sorry, neat, quick, Tiger [Woods], Brax, buddy, Daddy work, up high ("'pie"), again ("'gin")
Adjectives: Hot, cold
Verbs: Eat, sleep, sit, run, go, jump, cook, tickle, swing, poot/poop (that's a fun one), cut, walk, rock (in the glider), sing, shut, kick, come, wash, clean, mix, hug, kiss
NEW TRICKS: Goes up and down stairs by himself, without holding the rail or a hand. When he "mows the lawn" he knows to tilt the mower up to get the front wheels over the edge of the sidewalk/driveway. He stops at the sidewalk, turns and puts out his hand for you to hold before he crosses the street, and if he sees a car coming he darts up the driveway saying "run, run!" Folds his hands to pray and says amen ('men). Attempts to pull his pants and shirt off by himself. Eats cereal in a bowl with milk using a spoon. Will sometimes sit on the potty (fully clothed-nothing exciting happens, but it's a start). Makes car noises when he rolls his toy vehicles around. Plugs his ears a lot to see what things sound like with his fingers in there. Sings a lot--says "sing, la laa la laaa, sing, la laaa la laaala..." Runs laps around the main level saying "GO! RUN! GO! RUN!". He "counts" alot--anytime there's more than one of something, he says, "One... Two... Two... Two." I guess two means anything over one to him!
FAVORITE FOODS: Some new things he has liked are ice chips, pork chops, ham, asparagus, hamburger patties, summer sausage, spaghetti squash w/ parmesan cheese on it
FAVORITE PEOPLE: He's become a little attached to Momma these days (I don't really mind!)
FAVORITE BOOKS: Any book with a bunny in it-we have a several of them. He just loves to say "bunny."
FAVORITE TOYS: His lawnmower, cars and trucks, throwing balls
FAVORITE ACTIVITIES: Playing outside, talking to people, dancing, running, hiding in Daddy's closet, rocking and reading in the glider, snuggling Momma (I love it too!)
DAILY ROUTINE:
7-7:30 up, breakfast (oatmeal) immediately!
snack around 10
lunch at 12
12:30-3ish nap, snack immediately
dinner at 6
bath/books/bed 7:15-8
FAVORITE SONGS: Any of them!
DISLIKES: Brushing teeth, changing poopy diapers, being in the carseat too long
FUNNY THINGS HE SAID/DID:
Several days after we had been at My Gym, Brax was saying "Circle? Circle!" and then going thru the motions we do at Circle Time when the class is over--hands in the air, pat your knees and shoulders, bye-bye hands.... He remembered!
One nite I was rocking him to sleep and one of us may have pooted (I won't say who)--he took out his ni-nite and declared "POOP!" I started cracking up, and so did he. He kept saying it over and over and neither of us could stop giggling. Why is that word still funny to me?
Brax was "helping" me make a pasta salad, standing on his stepstool in front of the sink. I was cutting veggies, then he would take them off the cutting board and put them in a bowl I had sitting in the sink. After putting several broccoli florets in one at a time, he realized how inefficient this strategy was. He took the cutting board from me and dumped the whole pile in at once. Daddy always says--Work smarter, not harder!!!
MOMENTS I DON'T WANT TO FORGET:
Mike was coming home late one nite and at dinner time Brax pointed to the door and said, "Daddy work?"
I was singing "The Wheels on the Bus" after bathtime one nite and he kept saying, "Gin? Gin?" wanting me to sing it again.
At My Gym he pointed out the hearts on a little girl's shirt.
4/10- I think he had his first bad dream. Weird crying and thrashing around at about 11:30 pm for about 5 minutes. Never got up, eventually went back to sleep without me going in.
4/11-Wanted to sit on the potty for the first time (with clothes on)
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Friday, April 17, 2009
The Sweetest Words
This past week, I started praying out loud with Brax when we're rocking at nite. Before, I would just pray in my head, because I didn't want him to think it was time to be awake and have a "conversation" with each other. But on Monday nite, he was restless and fussy when I turned out the light after storytime. So I put his little hands together under mine and just started saying our prayers out loud. He immediately quieted down.
Then, on Tuesday night, I did the same thing. I also decided to see if he would participate verbally, since he's such a big talker now!
Brax said the sweetest words I've heard him say yet... "love you Jesus, Amen."
Well, really it sounded more like "yuh-you-'Zus-men," and it was broken up by me prompting each word one at a time. But regardless, he said it!
After we finished, he persisted, " 'Gin? 'Gin?" (Again, again??) So I said some other things we were thankful for. " 'Gin? 'Gin?" I fulfilled a few more prayer requests I'd come across on blogs. " 'Gin? 'Gin?" He would take my hands and try to manuever them around his, folded in prayer. We prayed for everyone and everything I could think of, until I finally had to explain that our time was up.
But I was reminded... It never really is. Our prayer calling card never runs out. When he's old enough to understand, I will tell Brax that he can keep praying as long as he wants, without ceasing. And I hope that he does.
Then, on Tuesday night, I did the same thing. I also decided to see if he would participate verbally, since he's such a big talker now!
Brax said the sweetest words I've heard him say yet... "love you Jesus, Amen."
Well, really it sounded more like "yuh-you-'Zus-men," and it was broken up by me prompting each word one at a time. But regardless, he said it!
After we finished, he persisted, " 'Gin? 'Gin?" (Again, again??) So I said some other things we were thankful for. " 'Gin? 'Gin?" I fulfilled a few more prayer requests I'd come across on blogs. " 'Gin? 'Gin?" He would take my hands and try to manuever them around his, folded in prayer. We prayed for everyone and everything I could think of, until I finally had to explain that our time was up.
But I was reminded... It never really is. Our prayer calling card never runs out. When he's old enough to understand, I will tell Brax that he can keep praying as long as he wants, without ceasing. And I hope that he does.
And the Most Charming Son EVER Award goes to...
Yep. My son. He's officially the smoothest kid in town. He so knows how to work me.
If you ever watch PBS Kids, you may have noticed the advertisement for Cindy Crawford's latest line-o' crap---"Meaningful Beauty" skincare. They play the infomercial frequently between the kids' programs, hoping that tired, homely, unkempt moms like myself will buy into it with hopes of looking like Cindy.
But apparently I don't need it!
Laura told me yesterday that every time Brax sees the commercial he points to Cindy and says, "Momma? Momma?"
Did you hear that? My one year old thinks I look like Cindy Crawford. And I don't even have the lip mole. God bless you, little boy.
It's enough to make me not even care that he watches enough TV to notice and recognize that "I" am on there!
This is probably what Cindy looks like
when she's doing dishes in the middle of winter, too.
Again, I should credit my husband for this award winning photograph.
If you ever watch PBS Kids, you may have noticed the advertisement for Cindy Crawford's latest line-o' crap---"Meaningful Beauty" skincare. They play the infomercial frequently between the kids' programs, hoping that tired, homely, unkempt moms like myself will buy into it with hopes of looking like Cindy.
But apparently I don't need it!
Laura told me yesterday that every time Brax sees the commercial he points to Cindy and says, "Momma? Momma?"
Did you hear that? My one year old thinks I look like Cindy Crawford. And I don't even have the lip mole. God bless you, little boy.
It's enough to make me not even care that he watches enough TV to notice and recognize that "I" am on there!
This is probably what Cindy looks like when she's doing dishes in the middle of winter, too.
Again, I should credit my husband for this award winning photograph.
"Raising Children"
A very sweet article. The part I put in bold really stuck out to me...
Raising Children by Anna Quindlen, Newsweek Columnist and Author
"All my babies are gone now. I say this not in sorrow but in disbelief.
I take great satisfaction in what I have today: three almost-adults, two taller than I am, one closing in fast. Three people who read the same books I do and have learned not to be afraid of disagreeing with me in their opinion of them, who sometimes tell vulgar jokes that make me laugh until I choke and cry, who need razor blades and shower gel and privacy, who want to keep their doors closed more than I like.
Who, miraculously, go to the bathroom, zip up their jackets and move food from plate to mouth all by themselves. Like the trick soap I bought for the bathroom with a rubber ducky at its center, the baby is buried deep within each, barely discernible except through the unreliable haze of the past.
Everything in all the books I once poured over is finished for me now. Penelope Leach., T. Berry Brazelton, Dr. Spock. The ones on sibling rivalry and sleeping through the night and early-childhood education, all grown obsolete. Along with Goodnight Moon, and Where the Wild Things Are, they are battered, spotted, well used. But I suspect that if you flipped the pages, dust would rise like memories. What those books taught me, and finally what the women on the playground, and the well-meaning relations -- well what they taught me was that they couldn't really teach me very much at all.
Raising children is presented at first as a true-false test, then becomes multiple choice, until finally, far along, you realize that it is an endless essay. No one knows anything.
One child responds well to positive reinforcement, another can be managed only with a stern voice and a timeout. One child is toilet trained at 3, his sibling at 2.
When my first child was born, parents were told to put baby to bed on his belly so that he would not choke on his own spit-up. By the time my last arrived, babies were put down on their backs because of research on sudden infant death syndrome.
To a new parent this ever-shifting certainty is terrifying, and then soothing. Eventually you must learn to trust yourself. Eventually the research will follow.
I remember 15 years ago pouring over one of Dr. Brazelton's wonderful books on child development, in which he describes three different sorts of infants: average, quiet, and active. I was looking for a sub-quiet codicil for an 18-month old who did not walk. Was there something wrong with his fat little legs? Was there something wrong with his tiny little mind? Was he developmentally delayed, physically challenged? Was I insane? Last year he went to China. Next year he goes to college. He can talk just fine. He can walk, too.
Every part of raising children is humbling, too. Believe me, mistakes were made. They have all been enshrined in the "Remember-When-Mom-Did " Hall of Fame. The outbursts, the temper tantrums, the bad language, mine, not theirs. The times the baby fell off the bed. The times I arrived late for preschool pick-up. The nightmare sleepover. The horrible summer camp. The day when the youngest came barreling out of the classroom with a 98 on her geography test, and I responded, "What did you get wrong?" (She insisted I include that.) The time I ordered food at the McDonald's drive-through speaker and then drove away without picking it up from the window. (They all insisted I include that.) I did not allow them to watch the Simpsons for the first two seasons. What was I thinking?
But the biggest mistake I made is the one that most of us make while doing this. I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of the three of them, sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages 6, 4 and 1.
And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night.
I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less.
Even today I'm not sure what worked and what didn't, what was me and what was simply life. When they were very small, I suppose I thought someday they would become who they were because of what I'd done. Now I suspect they simply grew into their true selves because they demanded in a thousand ways that I back off and let them be. The books said to be relaxed and I was often tense, matter-of-fact and I was sometimes over the top.
And look how it all turned out. I wound up with the three people I like best in the world who have done more than anyone to excavate my essential humanity.
That's what the books never told me. I was bound and determined to learn from the experts. It just took me awhile to figure out who the experts were."
Raising Children by Anna Quindlen, Newsweek Columnist and Author
"All my babies are gone now. I say this not in sorrow but in disbelief.
I take great satisfaction in what I have today: three almost-adults, two taller than I am, one closing in fast. Three people who read the same books I do and have learned not to be afraid of disagreeing with me in their opinion of them, who sometimes tell vulgar jokes that make me laugh until I choke and cry, who need razor blades and shower gel and privacy, who want to keep their doors closed more than I like.
Who, miraculously, go to the bathroom, zip up their jackets and move food from plate to mouth all by themselves. Like the trick soap I bought for the bathroom with a rubber ducky at its center, the baby is buried deep within each, barely discernible except through the unreliable haze of the past.
Everything in all the books I once poured over is finished for me now. Penelope Leach., T. Berry Brazelton, Dr. Spock. The ones on sibling rivalry and sleeping through the night and early-childhood education, all grown obsolete. Along with Goodnight Moon, and Where the Wild Things Are, they are battered, spotted, well used. But I suspect that if you flipped the pages, dust would rise like memories. What those books taught me, and finally what the women on the playground, and the well-meaning relations -- well what they taught me was that they couldn't really teach me very much at all.
Raising children is presented at first as a true-false test, then becomes multiple choice, until finally, far along, you realize that it is an endless essay. No one knows anything.
One child responds well to positive reinforcement, another can be managed only with a stern voice and a timeout. One child is toilet trained at 3, his sibling at 2.
When my first child was born, parents were told to put baby to bed on his belly so that he would not choke on his own spit-up. By the time my last arrived, babies were put down on their backs because of research on sudden infant death syndrome.
To a new parent this ever-shifting certainty is terrifying, and then soothing. Eventually you must learn to trust yourself. Eventually the research will follow.
I remember 15 years ago pouring over one of Dr. Brazelton's wonderful books on child development, in which he describes three different sorts of infants: average, quiet, and active. I was looking for a sub-quiet codicil for an 18-month old who did not walk. Was there something wrong with his fat little legs? Was there something wrong with his tiny little mind? Was he developmentally delayed, physically challenged? Was I insane? Last year he went to China. Next year he goes to college. He can talk just fine. He can walk, too.
Every part of raising children is humbling, too. Believe me, mistakes were made. They have all been enshrined in the "Remember-When-Mom-Did " Hall of Fame. The outbursts, the temper tantrums, the bad language, mine, not theirs. The times the baby fell off the bed. The times I arrived late for preschool pick-up. The nightmare sleepover. The horrible summer camp. The day when the youngest came barreling out of the classroom with a 98 on her geography test, and I responded, "What did you get wrong?" (She insisted I include that.) The time I ordered food at the McDonald's drive-through speaker and then drove away without picking it up from the window. (They all insisted I include that.) I did not allow them to watch the Simpsons for the first two seasons. What was I thinking?
But the biggest mistake I made is the one that most of us make while doing this. I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of the three of them, sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages 6, 4 and 1.
And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night.
I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less.
Even today I'm not sure what worked and what didn't, what was me and what was simply life. When they were very small, I suppose I thought someday they would become who they were because of what I'd done. Now I suspect they simply grew into their true selves because they demanded in a thousand ways that I back off and let them be. The books said to be relaxed and I was often tense, matter-of-fact and I was sometimes over the top.
And look how it all turned out. I wound up with the three people I like best in the world who have done more than anyone to excavate my essential humanity.
That's what the books never told me. I was bound and determined to learn from the experts. It just took me awhile to figure out who the experts were."
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Easter Cont., Part III
Ok, this is the last of my Easter pics, I promise.
These are from Resurrection Sunday!
Handsome boy, before church.
My poor husband, forced to "show his teeth" [SMILE]for yet another photograph.
Opening his Easter basket from Nana.
A thank-you kiss!
Opening his Easter basket from the EB.
Can a kid get too many Easter baskets?
Naaaahhh.
Coloring eggs with his grandmas!
Opening his Easter basket from Nana.
A thank-you kiss!
Opening his Easter basket from the EB.Can a kid get too many Easter baskets?
Naaaahhh.
Coloring eggs with his grandmas! WFMW-Crayons Stay ON THE PAPER!
For this week's "Works For Me Wednesday" I will share a little secret to keeping the butcher paper on your child's table. We don't have one of those fancy craft tables that have the roll of paper attatched to it, but this works just as well.
These are just tablecloth holders
you can get at any party supply store.
Cut your paper to wrap around the edge of the table,
and put the holders on each corner.
Ta-da!
No more coloring all over the table.
Well, except maybe for on the chair....Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Easter Cont., Part II
Grammy and Pop-Pop (Brax decided that was what he wanted to call Grandpa Hill this weekend!) got to our house Friday evening. We had so much fun!
These pics are from Saturday...
Kisses from Grammy.
He has been asking to sit on the potty!Of course, this is as far as we get--
But it's a start, right?
Grammy and Pop-Pop brought Brax a new "pet,"he loves Henry!
Brax filling Pop-Pop's shoes with peel-and-stick eggs.
"Here Pop-Pop, I have a present for you."
Pretty limber for a Grammy, isn't she?
So charming.
Brax's Easter basket.
Brax helping me plant a sunflower seed in a pot.
Yes, my green thumb is so bad that I have to read the directions.How hard can it be to plant seeds in a pot???
Brax had it figured out.
"Ok Buddy, that's enough dirt!"
Saturday nite Nana Star and Papa T got in town.
Papa T took over in the kitchen and helped make us a FABULOUS dinner-
Pork chops, asparagus, sweet potatoes and a pretty salad!
Brax helped, too of course.
When he got bored with cooking, Nana took him to play in the bathroom sink!
This kept him entertained for quite awhile!
His shirt was soaked after that,
I had no idea the kid would eat veggies and dip!
Papa T working the grill. 
Beautiful!
(That's chunky applesauce on the chops-
This kept him entertained for quite awhile!
His shirt was soaked after that,but he didn't care.
He just wanted a snack.
I had no idea the kid would eat veggies and dip!
Papa T working the grill.
Beautiful!(That's chunky applesauce on the chops-
if you've never had them that way, try it!)
Grammy, Megan (Terry's daughter), Nana and Brax.
(Daddy and Pop-Pop were golfing while we made dinner!)
Delish.
Grammy, Megan (Terry's daughter), Nana and Brax.(Daddy and Pop-Pop were golfing while we made dinner!)
Delish.Weekend Rewind--Easter Continued, Part I
but they're too cute not to post.
Brax helped me decorate for the Easter egg hunt.
I set up the little table for the kids to snack at.
Fresh flowers and a "Happy Easter" banner.
We had crackers, veggies and dips, and my favorite lemonade-1 can frozen lemonade concentrate+2 cans Fresca+2 cans water
I set up the tunnel for the kids to play in(although we never got around to that.)
And put some toys and the bubble machine in the backyard.
And a dorky bunny in the flower bed.
Isaac and Brax enjoying some puzzles.
"Try this one!"
Aunt Leslie and Liam.
Brax being "soft and gentle" with Baby Liam.
The gang's all here!
And put some toys and the bubble machine in the backyard.
And a dorky bunny in the flower bed.
Isaac and Brax enjoying some puzzles.
"Try this one!"Isaac's momma, Christa.
Aunt Leslie and Liam.
Brax being "soft and gentle" with Baby Liam.
The gang's all here!
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