Shrishmiss Tree

Oh Schrishmiss Tree, oh Schrishmiss tree, your needles are sooooo pointy.

Cooper's mispronunciation of Christmas is charming, and his delightfully innocent and clueless approach to the season is really fun. Matt and I are just not that into the whole buildup of presents, Santa, Rudolph, etc- so we've decided to just let Cooper do whatever he comes up with from his friends and peers at daycare. If he wants Rudolph, we'll know, and we'll do Rudolph.

So far, Cooper has informed us that "Shane has big socks with presents," which reminded me that I need to set out our stockings to keep up with expectation on that one. Cooper also randomly called Santa on the phone a few days ago, and when I asked him what he was talking to Santa about, he looked a tad puzzled and then said that Santa needs cookies and juice. Emphatically FIRST cookies, THEN juice, also. OK, so we're going to leave out some cookies and juice on Christmas Eve, it would seem.

Cooper also knows that we got some presents for his cousins, but I don't really know if he knows that he is also getting presents. I suppose it will be very exciting if he remains in the dark on that one until actual Schrishmiss morning.

Meanwhile, Grant has hardly even noticed the tree- partially because we set it up behind a couch so that Grant can't eat it or knock it over. He's too intent on practicing his walking (getting better!) and surprise attacking Cooper with vicious bear hugs and contagious giggles. Unfortunately, Grant has been having a really hard time sleeping lately, so that's been tough on Matt and I. But he's making up for it with good naps and lots of walking practice, so I think it will all pan out OK in the end.

Tell me the future

Cooper is currently missing some of the grammatical structures that the rest of us take for granted. Thank goodness he doesn't let that stop him from constructing jaw-dropping soliloquies. His most recent habit that is amusing me is how he tells long, involved stories of how he's going to do something in the future, and it is almost never apparent what on earth he is talking about until he gets to his "punchline." On the way there, he covers all the bases. And I mean aaaaaaall the bases. Alongside the funny dialogue, you have to imagine he's looking off into space and bobbing his head from side to side with each individual thought...

Cooper: Hey Momma?
Me: Yes, Cooper?
Cooper: I gonna go brush teeth and then I gonna get into Pee-Gees with dinos on them. Then I gonna go to sweep with doggie horsie blankey in my bed wiff my waterbobble. An Grant gonna sweep in his crib upstairs by the bed. Then I gonna get up and eat flakes and take my diaper off and THEN I use the potty and get dressed in my pants and two shirts and get in car with Grant and the bags and then we go to Shanes house for daycare. And THEN I GONNA EAT PANPAKES AND THAT WILL BE GREAT!

All that, to inform me he is looking forward to eating "panpakes" tomorrow morning. Wouldn't want to forget any details. Eventually, I know he'll figure out how to say, "Tomorrow morning..." Until then, bring on the soliloquies.

Bad example

Cooper was watching his favorite movie earlier today when he announced to me, "Momma- that little mouse pushed the big mouse. He don't do that. We don't push friends."

I told him that yes, the little mouse shouldn't push the big mouse. And Cooper said, "Yeah, that's not nice."

What a sweet kid.

Grant is walking!

It is official. With one day to go before he was 10 months old, yesterday Grant squeaked in under the wire to match his brother's impressive feat of really, truly, independently walking during his ninth month. Twice yesterday, he covered about 5 - 7 feet worth of floor space with a steady but slow and shuffling walk.

Congratulations Grant!

Sticker supreme

Yesterday's morning went extremely poorly. Matt had to leave at the crack of dawn, so all of the morning readiness was up to me. Things were OK with breakfast, but then Cooper took an active resistance role in getting dressed. At one point when he was almost completely dressed, yet angrily screaming and tearing at his clothing, I put him in his room to cool off so that I could get Grant in his car seat without losing my mind. I opened the door about 3 minutes later to an almost naked toddler in the middle of the room- standing in a small tornado style array of tiny clothing bits- that proudly, angrily, declared while looking me in the eye "I NOT WEARING UNDIES OR SHIRTS."

The next five minutes of my life are best forgotten, but nobody got hurt, and Cooper indeed was wearing fully coordinated, weather appropriate, clothing as I hauled him kicking and screaming across the icy yard.

During the workday I talked to Matt about it on the phone, and we agreed that something had to be changed, because nobody benefits from that sort of interaction. And right around dinner time, I came up with an idea.

Me: "Cooper, tomorrow if you can get dressed for daycare without being sad, you can put a horsie sticker on the calendar."
Cooper: "I want a sticker!"
Me: "You can have one! Tomorrow you just have to get dressed without getting sad."
Cooper: "Yeah! My love stickers!"


When Cooper woke up this morning, he asked me (essentially) if the horsie sticker offer still stood. I told him it did, and further, if he also got his boots and jacket on, and then got into the car, without getting sad, he could also have a horsie sticker on his jacket to show Shane.

And with that, after breakfast was over, Cooper happily picked out his outfit. He put on his undies and pants all by himself, then asked for help with his teeshirt and sweater. The first sticker was a lovely white horse, carefully placed on the calendar to cover the 1 of December 1st. Then, he selected some socks, asked me to put them on, got his boots, put them on, and then calmly asked if he could wear his blue hooded jacket today, which I told him sounded great. And then he walked out to the car, got in his car seat, and asked nicely for a sticker on his jacket. A brown horsie this time, please.

Why didn't I think of this, like, a month ago?

Walking and talking

Grant is, as we say in our house, on a rampage. He's like a little tiny monster, except in a good way. He seems to be saying his first words, which is kinda wild but really, it happens often enough that I don't think I'm losing my mind. He says Doggie, Dada and Mama, in the right sorts of contexts. Unbelievable. He'll be 10 months old in less than two weeks. Also, he's started taking steps between furniture, and we are quite sure legitimate walking will follow very soon. Lastly, his ability to climb the stairs is startling, and he can get three steps up onto a tiny ledge with his hands death-grip-white-knuckled onto the gate in the turn of your head. He's fast, he's fearless, and he's motivated. And he doesn't fall- thank god. When I try to get him off the gate, it takes all my strength to pried his tiny hands off the bars as he screams in frustration. And then no matter where I put him, he jets off crawling (thud thud thud thud) back the gate, climbs the steps, stands on the ledge and roars like a baby lion.

We're in trouble. :)

Much better!

The last two nights were so much better. Thank god. Monday night Grant woke up once at 3am to nurse, and then got up at 6am. Cooper stayed asleep from 7:30pm to 6:45am, which is much more typical for him. And last night, Cooper woke up at 2am to pee, which obviously isn't ideal but I can't really complain too much about a kid that doesn't want to wet the bed, and then Grant got up at 4am to nurse for a little bit, and then Grant got up for the morning at 6am sharp. Overall, not perfect, but quite good.

Today Matt and I are fully rested and feeling so thankful that our kids are generally dependable sleepers. Sunday night's once-an-hour fiasco really was rough on us and I'm sooo sooo glad it is a highly unusual situation!

Can we do that over?

Last night was rough on the edges. The kids went to sleep at regular times and in regular ways, and then...

Grant half woke up at 1am, cried a bit, but fell back asleep on his own.

Cooper woke up at 2am to pee, and was restless and whiney when he was done, and took a while to settle back into bed.

Grant woke up at 2:30 to nurse for about 20 minutes.

Cooper woke back up at 2:45 and freaked out for no obvious reason, and then got back in bed after a hug and a kiss.

Cooper woke back up at 3am and wanted to sleep with his horse costume in his tent. Whatever, goofball. Here is your costume. Go to bed.

Cooper woke up at 4am for no discernible reason and cried briefly before Matt got him back in his bed and he fell back asleep.

Grant woke up at 5am and cried for a minute before falling back asleep. Thank god.

Grant woke up at 6am and wanted to nurse (that's pretty standard). Matt murmured as I was getting Grant tucked in nicely to nurse under the covers, "Can we do this night over? Call it a mulligan and try it again? 'Cause that was pretty much torture."

Yup!

Dang cute

Grant is getting ready to walk. We can see it in his eyes, in the way he's sort of half-stepping away from the furniture, and in how he's standing. I'm guessing we'll have a walker by December.

Cooper goes on kicks where he only want to read one book, like many toddlers do. The current book is our "Ten Little Mice" book, where a bunch of mice have fun adventures in the English countryside on the way back to their nest for the night. It is a lovely book that has gorgeous illustrations, fun animals like sheep, dragonflies, badgers and bees, and it encourages counting, and both Matt and I enjoy reading it. Oddly, one of the only things that Matt and I often disagree on is children's books- we have really different taste in kid books. I find this bizarre. But, both of us like the mouse book, which is awesome. On the last page, all ten mice are sleeping in their little hay lined nest, snuggled in with each other. And Cooper likes to close the book, put it back up on the shelf, and declare, "I going to sleep in my nest with hay like a sleepy mouse. Momma put me in the nest with hay like a mouse." So I tell him his blankey is his hay, and his bed is a nest, and I'm picking up a biiiiiig mouse. Sometimes, Cooper says "I a mouse and the mouse needs a kiss on the cheek for sleeping in the hay" so the big mouse gets a kiss, too. So cute!

Moment of weakness

This morning, as with many mornings, the quest to get both kids in the car in a timely and organized fashion to depart for daycare got a little hectic. As I was clipping Cooper into his car seat, he got extra mad and did something he very rarely does- he intentionally screamed as loud as he possibly could right into my ear. It was awful. And instead of doing something smart about it, I just clamped my hand over his mouth and yelled at him to stop it. It wasn't my proudest moment, but it happened, and at least it made him stop screaming in my ear.

Both the boys were now clipped in the car, so to compose myself a little I went into the house and drank a glass of water and then got in the car to drive. Cooper was silent, petting his favorite blanket and looking out the window as we drove. Grant was happily babbling to himself and playing with the velcro on his shoes. About halfway to daycare, Cooper piped up.

Cooper: Momma, don't do that.
Me: Don't do what?
Cooper: That.
Me: I don't understand.
Cooper: Don't put your hand on my mouth. I don't like that.
Me: I'm sorry buddy, I got frustrated. You were screaming and it hurt my ear.
Cooper: I don't like that. Give me my blankey to help me feel better.

So that's Cooper. He's so stinking insightful that it makes me want to cry. It really amazes me. And next time, I'll give him his blankey instead of clamping my hand on his mouth like an out of control fool.

What'd ya do today

Various answers from the last week or two of daycare to the question, "Cooper, what did you do today at daycare?"

"We went to see the horsies and horsie poops." (wasn't clear when he said it if this is a noun or verb use of "poops")

"Ate lunch. It was good."

"Played on the swing-sweat with Hillen." (Killian)

"Saw the two ducks that Shane got and roosters too."

"The kids sang the monkey song."

"Bob pushed Bill and took his pretzels and I cried and Bob got a timeout in the timeout chair and Bill ate the pretzels and was OK." (Bob, who is about 18 months old, is not really named Bob, but he sure does seem to be on the path towards becoming a bona-fide bully. Oddly, Bob virtually never bothers Cooper, but Bob does bother Cooper's buddy Killian quite a bit despite Killian being twice Bob's size and nearly twice his age. I guess he's quite specific about his victims.)

There is meat in your butt

Well, we are back from the trip to Ennis, and it was fun. I'm very glad to be home, though. I spent the time hanging out with a large group of friends, 5 toddlers, and a wild array of dead animals- so it wasn't so much relaxing as it was a big change from my normal routine.

Matt successfully shot and killed three deer, which was his goal for the deer. He didn't get any pronghorned antelope, but that's OK. They are much harder to hunt. Maybe he'll have more luck next year.

Cooper, as one might have suspected, was highly wary of the rotating collection of freshly gutted dead deer in the garage of our giant rental cabin. The first day he was willing to go in and "look at the animals" but then my friend Kristina was showing our other friend Dalit how to remove a certain cut from the deer and... well... Cooper freaked out. I think he thought Kristina was hurting the deer with the knife. Mind you, the deer had been dead for about a day or two, but Cooper didn't know that or understand it. He was screaming and crying and backing up into things- it wasn't pretty. The other toddlers were all poking the eyeballs of the dead deer with sticks and being yelled at to quit touching stuff, so the contrast was really amazing.

After I got Cooper calmed down and away from the deer, I explained to him that we hunt deer, and then once they are dead, you can get meat out of them with a sharp knife. He kinda thought about that and said something about how he didn't want to look at the animals again. A friend called out from across the hall "He's gonna be a vegetarian at this rate!" I laughed.

Cooper isn't dumb, though. He thought about it for a while. At dinner that night, he told me that he eats meat sometimes, and there is meat in deer. I agreed, and we dropped it. The next day, he talked about how there are dead deer in the garage, but he didn't want to go look at them, and they have meat in them and you get the meat out with sharp knives. I said that was right and that deer have deer meat in them, and that we eat deer meat. And I left it at that.

On the third day, Cooper put all the pieces together. He started talking about how all the deer in the garage were dead, and how they had meat in them, and how Daddy was gonna cut off their tails and their heads, and how the meat in them was deer meat, and that Cooper likes to eat deer meat, and its yummy, and he's gonna eat deer meat for dinner and that will be good. All in one sentence, like that. I agreed with it all and told him that the deer meat is all over the deer, especially in the butt of the deer. I thought he'd find that funny. I didn't get a response, so I left it at that. And then he wanted to go look at the deer, which kinda surprised me, so we went to the garage. Needless to say, I didn't have to warn him not to touch them. And we chatted about the deer, and how they are dead, and how then you get the meat out with a knife. And then he said...

Cooper: "Mommy, there is deer meat in the deers butts."
Me: "Yup! And we eat it. It is good."
Cooper: "I like deer meat."
Me: "I'm glad."
Cooper: "I have deer meat in my butt."
Me: "No you don't. You are silly."
Cooper: "YOU HAVE MEAT IN YOUR BUTT! THERE IS MEAT IN YOUR BUTT! HA HA HA HA!"

So just like that, it was a funny joke. He's amazing.

Attack of the fall viruses

It has been a rather challenging few weeks. The boys succumbed to no less than three separate viruses in as many weeks. First, they got Hand-Foot-Mouth disease, which can be really serious but in our case was just annoying. Cooper had some rough nights, as well as one day of bad fevers. Grant had one day of fever and then a few nights of multiple wakeups- and Grant did get a few of the characteristic blisters on his fingers, too. Matt and I both seemed to get "adult" h-f-m disease, which is super mild and in our house consisted of being whiny and having a sore throat.

Then they both got a mild cold. It wouldn't even be worth mentioning except that Matt got it from them and was pretty well sick for two days, and both of them seemed to be running a "most repulsive nose secretion" competition. Ugh.

Then, Grant ran a fever for two days with no other symptoms besides being very sleepy and grumpy. He was eating OK and would perk up periodically, but it was clearly a serious illness. On the third day he seemed fine, and then bizarrely on the fourth day he broke out in a subtle but nearly full body rash. So I went to Google and voila, exact description of Roseola, one of the zillion not terribly severe childhood viruses that nearly all kids get. Sure enough, in another day, the rash was gone and Grant was back to his perky chirpy self.

Then I got sick. Not badly sick, but grumpy, sore throat, lethargic, that kind of thing. Blarg! I feel about 95% of total capacity at this point, so it passed really fast, but still.

It is worth mentioning that ALL of this took place in less than three weeks. So aggravating!

OK, done venting. Tomorrow we are off to Ennis (near Yellowstone) for a family vacation. 5 day weekend! YAY!!

Overheard

Grant and Cooper were playing in the living room while I cooked dinner.

Cooper: I LOVE YOU.
Grant: Squeak!
Cooper: I sharin' with you.
Grant: Squeak! Squeak!
Cooper: Grant, you sharin' with me. That'll be good. You love sharin'.
Grant: snuffle snuffle munch munch
(pause)
Cooper: You LOVE sharin'!
(pause)
Me: Cooper, what are you sharing with Grant?
Cooper: He's eating my food! I'm sharing. It'll be great.

I came around the corner to see my 8 month old son's mouth completely stuffed full of raisins, like some sort of odd college dare. Grant was in total heaven... food! attention! my brother is touching me! And Cooper was SO proud of himself for sharing his raisins, so it was disappointing to all of us when I scooped them all out of Grant's mouth and tried to explain that Cooper can and should share a lot of things with Grant, but maybe not yet raisins.

Go to bed!

I've been neglecting the blog because of various boring reasons- we've been busy, the boys got sick and I got behind on work, and the weirdness of how once you get behind on something, there is less and less reason to keep up, so it self perpetuates.

Anyway, thanks dad, for reminding me to get on it.

Grant is on the way to teaching himself how to walk. He's started standing independently quite a bit, and is learning how to transfer his steady hand from one thing to another- like couch to coffee table- in a way that is very self assured and confident that he won't fall. I remember vividly when Cooper started doing this- Matt and I were sure he (Cooper) would figure walking out in a few weeks. But I do recall it took at least another month. However, Cooper didn't have a role model, so who knows.

This evening Grant was pretty frustrated with being put down to go to sleep, and he was crying really angrily for a while. Our house is small, and sounds really travel, so Cooper could clearly hear Grant crying. Cooper had been quietly lying in his room falling asleep until Grant started up, and much to my and Matt's amusement, Cooper decided to tell Grant what to do. This is a rough script of what we heard;

Grant. Grant. GRANT!
(pause)
Don't cry. You just need to take a nap. Momma is gonna go upstairs and nurse you and you'll get your blankey and feel better.
(pause)
Grant. GRANT! Go to bed.
(pause)
Grant! Don't cry. Just take your nap.
(pause)
MOMMA GO UPSTAIRS AND NURSE GRANT and make him feel better and then he's a-gonna take a nap and I'm a-gonna sleep here in my bed and GRANT don't cry go to sleep upstairs you just need to feel better with your blankey.

Sometimes I feel like a genius

Cooper's overly earnest and overly specific way of talking makes me laugh. He sounds almost like a Dr. Seuss character. I swear this is almost exactly verbatim- he really does talk like this-

Me: It's cold out today. Let's get you some pants. How about these blue ones?
Cooper: I don't want to wear pants.
Me: These brown ones?
Cooper: I don't want to wear blue pants. I don't want to wear brown pants. I want to wear fish shorts.
Me: You could wear the fish shorts under your pants! That could be fun!
Cooper: No. I don't want to wear pants. I don't want to wear fish shorts under pants. I want to wear no pants.

And then here is where I had a genius parenting move.

Me: OK, let's get those fish shorts on you. (brief interlude) Now, can you please go outside and stand on the deck tell me if it is cold out? (opening the front door, blast of cold morning air pours in)
Cooper: No! I don't want to stand on the deck! It is pretty chilly out! I want to wear my brown pants!

Ha HAAAA!!!!! And that is how I got Cooper to wear brown pants today. And fish shorts. And puppy print undies.

Also, he really says "pretty chilly out" as a phrase. He picked it up from me, apparently.

Attack of the munchies

Grant is growing fast, nearly walking (yes, really), and pretty much determined to eat anything that crosses his path. I'm all for the slow and steady approach to kids learning to eat- start with some baby oatmeal powder, progress into pureed peaches, applesauce, carrots, you know, the usual. Grant has a very different agenda. He wants to eat it NOW and he doesn't care what I think. In the last week or so, this has taken on a fairly extreme degree. A few examples;

I gave Grant a large, sturdy carrot to nibble on while I was getting dinner ready. He was in my arms so I could see and hear his every move. I assumed he'd sort of suck on it, perhaps scrape at it a bit with his teeth and maybe gum it, too. Nope. He carefully used his 6 thick fat little teeth to actually bite off tiny pieces (about the size of rice grains) and eat them. He managed to eat quite a bit before getting frustrated. I then fed him 10 ounces of steamed and pureed carrots, which for his body weight and age is a really obscene quantity. That boy loves carrots.

Today I was cleaning the kitchen as Grant crawled around. He was happily banging on things with a wooden spoon and generally just being a cute little fellow. I was engrossed in scrubbing something when I noticed Grant had gotten awfully quiet. I looked down to find that Grant had somehow opened my large cardboard box full of ripe tomatoes (an achievement unto itself), swiped two large Roma (sauce variety) tomatoes, and was fully eating one of them while clutching the other one in his hand. He was covered in tomato seeds and juice, and absolutely thrilled with his achievement. I was dumbfounded as I watched him efficiently bite off appropriately sized nibbles of tomato (with the skin on!), gum them thoroughly in his mouth, swallow them, and bite off a new nibble. Unreal. I took the second tomato away from him because I was concerned he'd get indigestion, having never eaten something that acidic before. Needless to say, he wailed at me quite angrily.

I've begun to let go of my assumptions of how the kid should eat. I'm buying him things that just make no sense for his age- like cottage cheese (he loves the curds) and regular tofu (fun experiment for tomorrow!). I think we might just need to say farewell to the purees way before I had anticipated. And that is OK.

I'm not

I love the way Cooper speaks. It amuses me to no end. He and I sometimes play this game in the car where I ask him if he's certain animals, and he denies it, until he decides he wants to be one of the animals. Sometimes he gets off on tangents, and that's where the fun is.

Me: Cooper, are you a shark?
C: No I'm not.
Me: Are you a bear?
C: I'm not!
Me: Are you a donkey?
C: I'm not!
Me: Are you a bird?
C: Yeeeessss!
Me: What kind of bird?
C: I a little bird that sleeps in trees with a birdie blankey.
Me: Oh I didn't know that birdies sleep with blankets!
C: Yeeess. In trees. With blankies. Little birds.

Cooper also replaces words that he doesn't know with funny phrases. My favorite right now is that he doesn't seem to know the word "barefoot" so instead, he's saying "in toes." As in...

Me: Cooper, I don't want your feet to get cold. Let's find socks for you.
C: Noooo!
Me: I want you to sleep in socks, buddy.
C: No! I sleep in my toes! No socks! In toes!

You never know until you try

Cooper's self initiated sleeping location testing program took an unexpected turn last night. In the last week, he has tested and rejected the following locations; his bed, smack dab in the middle of his area rug, and inside his cardboard box fort. The latest location? Deep underneath his tiny, low bed, on the rock hard and cold hardwood floor.

I really would not have guessed this was a spot he would have tried out, but then again, I'm not a creative toddler (anymore). Last night he went to sleep OK in his room and then fell out of his bed at 11pm. That alone isn't odd- he does it about once every two weeks and it is usually around when I go to bed. I think that's because my rustling around the house to lock up tends to make him half-awake, which is when he probably rolls over and accidentally falls out. No big deal, I gave him a hug and helped him get back into bed clutching doggie and blankey. He was asleep in less than a minute.

Then at 2am I heard some nervous whiney yelling from his room for a minute or two. I was about to open his door when it stopped, so I decided to leave well enough alone and go back to bed. I figured he'd had a bad dream. In retrospect, I think that was not the case.

At 4am I woke up to more nervous whiney yelling, this time a little more insistent. I went into his room- pitch black- to presumably help him get back into bed, or maybe pat his back from a bad dream. But he wasn't in his room... it seemed. Not in the bed. Not in the fort. Not on the rug. Not behind the door or hiding behind his craft table (he tends to stumble around confusedly after falling out of his bed, so you can't quite predict where he'll be). He was... invisible? Nah, that made no sense. So I turned on the light. And that's when he got really upset. "MAMA COOPER STUCK MAMA HELP STUCK STUUUUUCK!!"

My first reaction was, unfortunately, to burst out laughing. How on EARTH did he get so far under his tiny low slung bed? Unbelievable. So I lifted his toddler bed (it is very light and very small) and he crawled out, looking dazed. I did my best to stop laughing as I gave him a hug and put him back in bed, but he definitely was mad at me. Why was I laughing at him for getting stuck under the bed! Geez... parents are so rude.

But I am left with this- why under the bed? WHY? and for that matter- why the sleep location testing?

Who knows.

Mr. Demanding

Lately, Cooper has been very bossy and demanding. I've had to start telling him I won't do what he asks unless he uses his "happy voice" i.e. isn't bossing us around, and also we've gotten much more insistent about saying please.

But sometimes, I have to laugh at what he sternly instructs me (or Matt) to do.

He's been fighting his nap today, and he keeps hopping out of bed and using the potty. A few rounds ago, he came out of his room and saw I was using the computer. He stopped dead in his tracks, stared at me, then pointed right at the computer and said, "Momma! Watch bike videos on the peter!" in a very authoritarian voice.

About ten minutes ago, when I thought he was actually asleep, I went outside to help Matt with a gate he's installing. Unknown to me, Cooper then snuck out of his room to use the potty again, and in the process he could have clearly seen Matt and I working on the gate together. Much to my surprise, when I quietly came back into the house, I was greeted not by silence but by a loud yet squeaky command piping up from in the bathroom, "MOMMA! Go back outside and play with Daddy!"

So special

Me: It is chilly out this morning, let's find you some pants.
Cooper: I want special pants!
Me: OK, we'll find special pants (grabbing the top pair in the bin).
Cooper: NO no I want DIFFERENT ones.
Me: OK, pick out a different one.
Cooper: (grabbing the next pair in the bin) THESE different ones. THESE special pants. I want THESE.
Me: Great. These look like perfect pants. Let me help you...
Cooper: NO COOPER DO IT. NO COOPER PUTS TOES IN PANTS NO MY DO IT.
Me: You are putting them on backwards, dear.
Cooper: NO STOP MOMMY STOP MY DO IT COOPER DO IT PUT PANTS ON MIIIIIIIIINE.
Me: They are still backwards.
Cooper: Mommy help.

Love

Cooper has discovered the word, although maybe not the real concept, "love." He uses it in very sweet and sometimes funny ways. And he's very emphatic. He's also started saying Oh My Gosh as one word, ohmygosh, although it sounds more like "oh-mee-doss."

"I LOVE brown cookies today ohmygosh."

"Cooper LOVES feed Grant his oatmeal!"

"Ohmygosh I LOVE eatin' pomatoes from the garden."

(He calls tomatoes pomatoes, which is an improvement from when he said straight up "potatoes" but still very confusing)

And lastly "My LOVES my doggy horsey blankey naptime."

Awwwww.....

They are not the same

I forget sometimes the profound, inborn differences that are already evident in my boys.

Cooper loved sleeping in strollers and the car seat. He liked nothing more than a good stroller-nap. Cranky? Stroller! Falling apart? Car ride!

Grant does not fall asleep in the stroller. He will actively fight it by squirming, crying, and getting mad. He's basically got an anti-stroller nap policy. Even if he's tired, he'll fight it tooth and nail, opting to alternately cry and suck his thumb instead of sleeping. Likewise, he needs to be totally exhausted beyond reason to sleep in the car seat. Sure, he'll lie quietly in there, resting, but his eyes are open and he is NOT sleeping.

The boys are similar in their approach to napping and sleeping (when compared to the right ages) but the falling asleep differences are stark. For nearly a year, Cooper would get so strung out and panicked if we tried to let him fall asleep by himself that he'd either get diarhhea, vomit, or become hysterical with panic and scream himself hoarse. Needless to say, we rarely attempted this because it was clearly very traumatic to him.

Grant prefers to fall asleep on his own. His idea of a good way to fall asleep is to be laid in his crib, given a soft flannel receiving blanket, and stare at the wall while sucking his thumb. He likes the sound of the fan, but it isn't required. Rubbing his back is a neutral- he likes it, but not hugely. And that's it. If he's tired, he'll slowly fall asleep stroking his blanket and sucking his thumb. Done. And he's been like that since birth. Even as a tiny tiny baby, he didn't want to be held while falling asleep- he preferred to be swaddled and laid down.

And I think these two things are quite related. Cooper needed lots of stimuli to become quiet on the inside, somehow. Grant, on the other hand, likes to deal with it himself- I want the world to be sleepy so I can be sleepy.

It will be interesting to see how this pans out as they grow up!

Closet ninja

At 7:10 this morning Matt murmured, "I think Cooper is in the closet." 99% asleep, I grunted. Matt said it again, "No, really, I think he's in the closet." Now closer to 80% asleep, I heard the closet door make a tiny, nearly imperceptible creak, and then silence. I said, "Dog musta leaned against the door. Cooper is not in there. I'm tired." And I fell back asleep.

At 7:20, I woke back up because Matt was saying it again, "Honey, I really think Cooper is in the closet." My response: "Don't talk so loud, you'll wake up Grant and Cooper. And Cooper is not in the closet."

And then, Cooper opened the closet door, said "Hi Mommy!" and crawled onto our bed with a big smile.

HOW LONG WAS HE IN THERE? And perhaps most importantly, WHY?

Grantzilla the giggler

Grant perfected "pulling to a stand" in the last few days, and one of the things he likes to stand on is Cooper's plastic barn. He towers over it and likes to whack at it with his hands, and it has a sort of comical Godzilla-esque look to the whole experience. As a result, we've started calling him Grantzilla.

On an only tangentally related note, I took him in for his 6 month appointment today. He weighs 18lbs and 14oz- which is still quite large for his age. I think they said it was 86% or something. Big kid!

In classic adorable Grant fashion, when it was time for him to get his shot he thought that the nurse was trying to tickle his fat little thighs, and he giggled confusedly the whole time. It was sort of a nervous giggle laugh. Perhaps best of all, it made the nurse and I laugh, and so when the shot was over and it no longer stung, Grant burst out into a full on laugh at us laughing at him. The nurse said she's never seen a baby giggle while getting a shot in her whole full 10 years of nursing. She told all the other nurses about it, and when we left the exam room they were all saying "there's the baby that giggled! can you believe it?!"

That's Grant for you. He's so dang positive that he thinks a nurse grabbing his leg to steady it for a hypodermic needle is actually a fun tickling game.

Two funny things

Cooper has been saying a lot of funny stuff lately, but two things are in the front of my mind right now.

1) He can't seem to figure out how to pronounce "tofu-dogs," as in the faux hot dogs that we sometimes cut up and serve for lunch or snack. Instead, he strings together a random assortment of related syllables before the word dogs. It cracks me up. Today he called them "mo-foo-doo dogs" and "two-foo-foo dogs" and my favorite, "foo-coo" dogs.

2) His mimicry of us, ever amusing, has led him into some funny (and also not great) habits with Grant. As a good example, today Grant was getting all fussy and cranky and Cooper, in an irritated tone, said, "Grant, could you please try to relax?" Oh, dear. I think I'm going to have to mention this to Matt (he's the one that uses this phrase). He also sternly warns Grant that he's not allow to stand in the bathtub "No standing! Its slippy!" that certain behaviors are not permitted "No pull on momma's hair that hurts momma!" and that screaming is never ok "Grant! No Screaming!"

On a sweet note, today Cooper got possessive of Grant and told me it was "Cooper's turn to hold the baby." This happens about once a week. Grant was in a great mood, so I plopped him onto Cooper's lap. Grant giggled as Cooper fumbled him around, and Grant had a great time poking Cooper in the eyes as Cooper told him to stop while laughing all the while. It was awesome. They are adorable.

Grant is going to be 6 months old in a few days. That's mind blowing. I'm looking forward to his weigh-in... any guesses? FYI, he's really, really big. I'm thinking 19lbs, but we'll see if that's right.

Milestones

There have been a lot of milestones lately in this house- especially for Grant.

Grant got his second pair of teeth in this week, and they are big! I forgot how huge they look in a little baby's mouth. So far we've avoided getting nipped, but I do know it is inevitable with those big chompers that he's going to bite something.

He also started both crawling, and being able to transition himself from a crawl into a sitting position. He's incredibly pleased with himself and spends a lot of time slowly crawling around the house to grab some object, and then sitting there contentedly with whatever precious thing (like a spoon, or washcloth, or a dried leaf) he has found.

This week also brought my first business trip since Grant was born. It went really smoothly and when I got home I was impressed, as always, that the dishes were done, the laundry was under control, and the kids were clean and happy. Even Matt seemed pretty dang put together. We had Grant join Cooper at daycare for two days so that Matt could still work while I was gone, and that went well, too. The report was that he ate well, took good naps, and Cooper didn't seem too weirded out by having Grant there.

The fun part was going to daycare on the day I got home and picking up the two boys. When I walked in, Cooper was playing in the main room. He looked utterly startled and started whimpering like he was gonna cry, and then he finally sputtered out "I want to go see Grant" and then he grabbed my hand and dragged me over to the baby-napping room (where the little guys nap). Grant was just barely waking up and so Cooper, in his funny big brother "parenting coach" mode told me in a rush of words that I should "Pick up Grant put Cooper in car seat in the car to go home have dinner." Sure, kiddo! So we did that.

Lastly, Cooper is SO excited that we are growing string beans. He stands next to the row of beans and tells me to pick them so he can eat them. I'm hoping soon he'll learn to pick them himself, to take out the middleman. I should have planted purple string beans to make them easier to locate on the plants... I planted some yellow ones, but they are not yet ready for harvest. Live and learn, right?

First big boy birthday party

All names have been changed to protect the children... my friends are very amusing to me.

___________ the invite ___________

Yo Whores!

My son Tom the puff boy (almost back to normal now from "the incident") has specifically requested your presence for his 4th BDay bash. Sorry I am not sending cute Spiderman invites but Ann's wedding and camping weekend took all my planning strentgh. SO, Sunday 4pm (yeah I know, this coming weekend). We have some slip and slide competition planned, wet t-shirt contest, bocce etc... Please let me know if you are coming so I know how much crap to get.

Can anyone fwd this to Matt's wife 'cause little Cooper has to be there too. Let me know of one of you has her email.

Peace out

Kate

---------- my response ----------

Hi Kate-

Thanks for inviting the family! We'll be there, and Matt is looking
forward to modeling his pecs for the wet teeshirt contest.

See you soon.

-Leigh

____ another response after recalling how Kate told me she hates goody bags _____

Also, Kate, if you could please make sure to fill us a goody bag of useless
plastic crap, especially if it includes some sugary foods and black
permanent markers, that'd be great.

:)

-Leigh

_____________ another friend's response __________

wait, Cooper doesn't get the chocolate-covered espresso beans?

------------- final response from Kate -----------

Great! Tom will be thrilled to have "little Cooper" over! I will make sure to also include sharp objects in the bag (I hate these...better to spend money on beer for the adults).

Kate

Grant's recent triumphs

Grant is hellbent on learning to crawl, and just mastered sitting up on Saturday. He still topples periodically, but for the most part he can sit on a blanket for a minute or two, and sometimes longer, and play with toys. It is so fun to watch him- I had forgotten how adorable they are when they first learn to sit.

In terms of crawling, let's just say you can tell he's been working hard because he has rug-burn. The kid is squirming, pushing, kicking, flailing, spinning, tucking knees under himself, getting up on his arms, rocking back and forth, and generally training for what appears to be his upcoming crawling marathon. He's going to get it all together soon, I think. He just figured out in the last day how to get into a good crawl position and maintain it, and of course within hours of that advance he had added back and forth rocking to the list of skills. When he gets really mad, he tries everything at once and usually ends up scooting himself either in a 360 pivot on his belly, or straight backwards and under some piece of furniture, or both.

Of course, being Mr. Even Tempered, he does all this with a smile. Even when he's mad. He'll grunt and grumble and then look up and smile as if to say, "Hard work is so FUN!"

My snappy comeback

I'm pretty much incapable of snappy or witty comebacks to rude comments. I'm not fast enough, and I tend to take things personally.

You can therefore imagine how incredibly proud of myself I am for what I said today. Here's the scenario; Cooper was hungry and overwhelmed, and pitching an impressive 2 year old's tantrum in the middle of a very busy and hot farmer's market. It was a classic toddler moment- the kid was just unable to cope with the stimulation, crowds, heat, etc and so he just lost it. Of course he took it out on the best target available (me). He's screaming "MY MOMMY," "UP!" and "HUG!" at the top of his lungs (these are the three things he repeats when he's miserable and really, really wants my attention), clawing at my side and legs, and trying to keep me from walking by running full force into my legs from in front. I'm somehow moving forward in the crowded market, pushing Grant in the stroller, trying to get into the calm dark parking area to help Cooper get himself together, and super grateful that my friend was with me to carry my veggies. And this older woman, perhaps 60, stops right in front of me and asks in an accusatory manner, "Well? Are you his mommy?"

And I looked at her like she was out of her mind, and said the first thing that came into my head as my poor overwhelmed little boy ran headfirst, again, into my legs and wrapped both arms around my thighs, and let out a big wail of frustration.

"CLEARLY!"

And then I walked pointedly past her while Cooper clung to my right leg like a rabid monkey, screaming. Incidentally, it is very hard to push a stroller while dragging a nearly 30lb kid on your shin.

A few minutes later, after Cooper had finally taken a few deep breaths in the parking garage and drank some cold water, and he even was able to say "Cooper frustrated Cooper want to go home," my friend said something like, "Good comeback to that woman. I can't believe she said that to you!"

Me neither. Had she never seen a tantrum before? Seriously.

Poor little kid

Grant has been all "off" because he's got both upper front teeth coming in at once. His sleep is all weird (which is to say he's acting more like a normal infant), he bites everything (he almost drew blood on my wrist yesterday) and his spastic nursing is really frustrating to both of us.

This afternoon I did something I've never done before- I gave my own kid a bottle. And he drank it. Of course I have something like 200oz of stored milk in the freezer, so it isn't like this was a sacrifice on my part, but still, I'm sort of shocked. Right now he's busily chewing his hand raw while clutching a clean cloth diaper, bouncing in his bouncer, and loudly hiccuping. Poor little dear seems to do best when he's very, very distracted. I hope those teeth come through soon.

Oh, and yes, we've been giving him ample ibuprofen. It only helps at night, somehow. During the day it doesn't seem to make him any happier.

Matt made me do it

I wasn't gonna write this, but Matt says I have to.

Yesterday after using the potty, Cooper was looking into the bowl to admire his handiwork. In the bowl was a very large item, and one very small one. He exclaimed proudly, "Cooper pooped a mommy poop with a baby poop!"

I laughed. Certainly, they had a family resemblance going for them. Although honestly, they both looked like shit.

Out of the mouths of toddlers

For better or for worse, he'll say anything, and he's very descriptive.

"Cooper pooped big brown bunches of poop in the potty! YAY! Cooper dump big poop out in big boy terlet. And flush!"

"Cooper no touch doggy's big fuzzy penis. No. Not ho-'kay. Cooper ho-'kay touch doggy's fuzzy butt."

And my favorite, while we were getting ice cream downtown last night in the summer heat... "HEY MOMMY!" "Yes, Cooper?" "I FART. LOUD!"

Welcome to grammar

Cooper has miraculously started to use all sorts of grammatical structures. It is very funny to hear in his squeaky little voice things like, "I want milk in a cup!" or "Where is my shoe?"

Of course, he doesn't always get it right. But it so amazing to me that these things are so sneaky and sudden. Just last week the same things would have been, "My milk cup!" or "Shoe where?" and now- Poof!- we have full grammar and use of all the different parts of speech.

Also, Grant is almost able to sit up unassisted. So cool! He's pretty proud of himself. I'm very happy for him, too. Sitting up makes it so much more fun to hold toys.

The boy who cries potty

Cooper recently figured out that we will nearly always come get him if he's in his room yelling, "Potty!"

Oh man. That, plus the fact that I found this adorably tiny toddler bed (it is like a regular bed in every respect except that it fits a crib mattress), means that nap time and bed time have gone from super-easy, to groan worthy in-and-out of the bed frustration filled times.

But we are figuring it out. First of all, if I bring his little potty into his dark room, and make him use it by the bed, then that takes all the fun out of tromping through the house, and removes the stimulation of bright lights, etc. So that decreases the potty calling tremendously. Since I started that a couple of days ago, we are seeing huge improvements. Remove fun factor... check.

The new toddler bed seems to have thrown him back off track, as we suspected it would. Matt has tried a few options to get him to fall asleep, and the last two times (last night for bed, and today for nap) reading him his favorite book about owls has gotten him to lie calmly in his bed for long enough to realize he is tired, and that has led to actually falling asleep.

It is 1:29 in the afternoon. I put Cooper down for a nap at 12:15. We've read one book, and done in-room potty service once. I think he fell asleep about 5 minutes ago.

Improvements will come soon... right? At least he naps. And sleeps all night in his own bed. I shouldn't complain.

Vanishing spike

Grant's signature wacky adorable hair is slowly fading out. As his hair is growing longer, the weight of each strand seems to be preventing it from sticking up. Right now, depending on the humidity, if he's been wearing a hat, and how clean his hair is, his hair varies from totally "normal" (a.k.a. the contour of his head) to three or four big soft wavy curls perched on the top of his head. Matt and I are sad to see his hair changing, but I suppose it was inevitable.

It is looking like he's going to have light brown hair that has soft broad curls (they look a bit more like curls than waves to me) and bright blue eyes. He's also well on his way to charming all of Missoula into submission- he's extremely smiley and sweet, and often giggles quietly when people talk to him. The contrast with Cooper's shy and somewhat fearful nature when it comes to new people or situations couldn't be more stark.

With that said, Cooper is one heck of a kid. He's really good with names (which I am not) and loves to talk about people. He'll randomly say interesting things about his friends, to my endless amusement. (some names have been changed, and grammar is corrected for readability.)

"At daycare today, John was in timeout. He hit Charles, and Charles cried."

"Julie is Ollie's momma. Ollie likes sunscreen. I shared the slide with Ollie."

"Hannah played with my alligator toy. Hannah likes yogurt. Kristina is Hannah's momma. Momma is friends with Kristina."

He has a very sweet toddler crush on Hannah, our friend's daughter who is about 1 year younger than him. Hannah is a very outgoing yet gentle girl, and Cooper seems to just really dig her. He lets her use his toys, pet his hair (which is very funny to watch, as they both think it is SOO FUNNY), and he taught her how to ride her new scooter. They are totally adorable.

Not a raccoon

Cooper likes the names of shapes lately, and is learning shapes and letters pretty rapidly. He especially thinks that triangles and squares are great.

Yesterday I was trying to explain the difference between rectangles and squares, when I came upon an issue.

Me: "See, Cooper, this looks a lot like a square, but it is long and thin. That makes it a rectangle. Squares are more, um, even. Not long and thin."

Cooper: "No, square. Dis square."

Me: "Well, I agree it is like a square, but it is a rectangle."

Cooper: "NO NO NO square. NOT raccoon. Dis square. Not raccoon. Not owl. Not doggie. Square."

Indeed. I think we'll need to work on both the pronounciation, and the listening to, of the word rectangle, before we can make any progress on the difference between rectangles and squares.

Eww

Me, puzzled by what appears to be Cooper trying to smoosh a pebble up his nose,

"Hey Cooper, what are you doing?"

Cooper, matter-of-factly, "My nose yucky. My wipe nose with rock."

And then he threw the snot covered rock into the yard, and proclaimed, "All done! Nose heen!"

We all lost the bet

I bet 16lb 8oz, Matt bet 16lb 10oz, and Lindsey (our new, delightful, part-time nanny) bet 16lb 13oz... and we always bet "Price is Right" style... and we all lost. Little boy weighs 16lbs 7oz. ZOUNDS! I should have breastfed him for like 5 more minutes in the waiting room and I'd have WON!

:)

Silliness aside, he's still a huge kid. Over 75% for all measurements, and very strong for his age. The doctor was very impressed with his standing and push-ups. She agrees that by the 6 month, it is likely he'll be crawling, and sitting.

Also, his even temperament is amazing. He happily sat in my lap, fiddled with my sweater, played with a toy, and nursed- for almost two hours (the dr's office was running extremely late). And THEN he got a vaccine- and cried for less than 30 seconds. Then he giggled at me, and cooed. Crazy.

As for Cooper, his toilet training hit a rocky patch a few days ago when he had some kind of GI disturbance that led to very, very messy stuff coming out of his rear end. Poor kid. The positive side is that it really helped him transition out of using the front yard as a latrine, and also made him figure out WHY he needs someone to help him clean up after he's done.

So now we have a kid that yells, "Potty! Potty!" and then "I poop wiff my bupp on the potty!" and once he's done, "Momma! Help heen my bupp!" And finally "All done. I dump it out potty in terlet. My hurn flush terlet!"

Awesome.

Weekend successes

Cooper's potty training is going so well, I'm almost hesitant to say anything and jinx it. He's averaging about one pee accident a day, and he's only had one poop incident since the day we started this process (and it was day 2). Today he started his day in the same underwear as he ended it, which was also the case on Thursday. I'm really excited about this whole thing.

As usual, I don't really think our incredibly superior parenting skills (ha!) are the cause of this. Sure, we seem to have picked a good time, and not screwed anything up royally. But overall, I think it is all about Cooper. I think he wants to do it, and I know he was physically ready. He's figured out all on his own how to stay dry during naptime, which we just assumed would take months. Nope... instead, despite still wearing a cloth diaper during naps, he holds it all nap and then when he gets up, he carefully unsnaps his diaper, puts it in the laundry bin, sits on his itty bitty toilet, pees, and then asks for whatever pair of underpants he's favoring that day. "All done potty! All done pee! Doggie underpants pleeeeeze. Mama help!"

Amazing kid.

His underpants selection is cute, I think. Motorcycles, racecars, dogs, turtles, alligators. He likes them all, but I think dogs are becoming the favorite. He's getting better at getting them on all by himself (he can get them off really well) although he still needs a hand getting his feet in the holes. He often ends up with both feet in one hole, etc, and then gets frustrated. I understand- that'd annoy me, too.

"Healthy but scrawny"

We have some friends that visited from out of town with their 1 year old- the little guy's birthday is this week. He's cute as a button and has just started walking. And when they got a look at Grant their very first question went something like this, "OMG how much does that kid WEIGH?"

Turns out, last week they had their one year checkup and vaccines at the doctor's. At the end of of the appointment, their doctor scribbled down a few things on the stationary for them- weight, height, some suggestions about good toddler foods, and the phrase "Healthy but scrawny." They had never really thought that their son was that small, so they were a little surprised.

We all had a good laugh, because Grant is only one pound short of their little fellow's weight. At four months old, I'm quite sure Grant weighs right around 16 pounds- probably not fully 17 pounds, but it is possible. He's really chunky and sturdy, and he certainly can't crawl yet, so his exercise options are pretty limited to push-ups (which he does all the time), rolling (ditto) and jumping up and down in his jumper thingy.

At any rate, it was fun to talk about how amazing different healthy children can be. Also- it is not like this child's parents are small people. The mom is about my size (although a bit skinnier, but overall roughly the same build and height) and the dad is probably only about an inch shorter than Matt.

On a related note, we have our 4 month checkup and vaccines next week for Grant. I'm looking forward to finding out officially how much he weighs, and probably bragging about his ability to practice standing, practice sitting, roll over both ways, do push ups, and bite you so hard on the finger that it nearly bleeds. Did I mention he's teething?

Small glitch in the system

We've got a small, amusing, and ultimately unimportant issue in the potty training. It probably is not one that you'd have seen coming. I sure didn't.

Cooper now won't poop anywhere except in the front walkway. He gets panicky and resistant if we try to make him poop on his tiny toilet, and he hasn't pooped in his underpants since last Saturday (which was only day 2 of the training weekend, so it was pretty understandable). Nope. In fact, he's managed to poop in the front walkway 5 of the 6 last days. The one missing day was a poop-free day.

Now, the weather is sure not inviting for pooping in the walkway lately. It has rained or drizzled almost non-stop for the last two weeks. And it isn't like we are overtly encouraging this behavior. It is just that the kid is always in the yard- throwing his frisbees, digging with his little shovel, jumping off the landscaping rocks, climbing into the lilacs and getting stuck between the branches... typical toddler stuff. He has a nice rain hat and rain jacket and rain boots. Why not!?

I almost wonder if this is all because of the dog. He poops in the yard, and Cooper can see that all the time. Maybe given his options, Cooper just thinks he might as well try out what Lucky has been doing. Hard to tell. Or perhaps it is just a way to avoid coming inside and interrupting his play more than needed.

But most of all- whatever. He understands when he has to go, that he should tell us when he has to go, that he needs to pull off his pants and underpants, and he's going about once a day. And it is not like he's pooping in the vegetable garden- that'd be worse.

But really- front walkway? Couldn't he have picked somewhere a little more hidden? Like at least the backyard?

:)

He gets it

Cooper is well on his way to being a fully capable underwear wearing kid. Yesterday was his first day at daycare and he used the toilet with a little kid seat adapter thingy five or six times. He peed his pants only once, and it was in the first five minutes of the day (probably the most stressful part of the day, in my mind).

When he got home, he used his tiny toilet several times to pee, and then asked me if he could go outside and poop in the gravel walkway. I said yes (hey, at least he asked) and was amazed when sure enough, he marched out there, pooped in the gravel, looked at it, and then told me he needed help cleaning it up and getting himself some jellybeans. After dinner, he also used his toilet multiple times, and peed in the grass out in the backyard for fun.

This morning, he peed twice in the tiny toilet before going to daycare, and asked to please wear his bike-print undies. That's motivation!

I'm pretty amazed. He totally gets it. I know we'll have regressions, and I know it is very early to expect Cooper to really do this, but I'm still very optimistic. This is a kid that really seems legitimately able to do it. Awesome.

Three updates

1) My surgery recovery is going extremely well at this point. I feel good- only a little sore here and there. It is a shame that I can't do any fun stuff yet, because I so desperately want to dig in the garden, go for a bike ride, and so forth. But I'm resisting the temptation. I'm excited that I look good, too (dare I say it). The swelling is almost entirely gone, my skin is pretty smooth, my body's shape is almost back to a normal contour, and the scar is extremely thin and looks like it will be remarkably subtle once it fully heals. It is very exciting.

2) Cooper's cold-turkey diaper removal project has been really, really enlightening. It turns out that Cooper's only roadblock to full underpants wearing capability is his own reluctance to change his behaviors. He's fully capable of it, physically, and when he wants to use a toilet, he does it just fine. So now I think we just need to make it normal and routine, instead of new and different. Kind of exciting, really!

3) Grant can roll over both ways, grab toys, and stuff anything he wants into his mouth. He loves to laugh and be tickled. He's got two razor sharp teeth and is working on more teeth for sure, as he is a veritable drool fountain lately. And I think his hair is getting lighter. His top curls are getting more and more goofy looking. The kid has just spectacular hair, that's all there is to it!

Good stuff!

Follow up is done

Today was my post surgery follow up, and things are looking good. Now that I'm able to go with only ibuprofen for pain relief, and now that I have a pretty normal range of motion, I'm cleared to drive again! So that's a huge logistical improvement around here.

My surgery site is looking good- not a lot of swelling, no redness, no weird stuff going on. My surgeon explained in somewhat graphic detail the extent of the repairs that she did, and it was a tad gory. The craziest part was that she told me that my incision was very small because my skin is so loose (from being post-baby) that she just could move it all over my abdomen to reveal what she needed to repair. EEeeeeeeewwwwwww. But at least that will result in less scarring and a quicker recovery, she said.

My belly button is very well hidden and I have yet to see it. She sewed it onto a synthetic mesh patch that is now permanently embedded in my gut. I know, that's totally crazy. So if anyone ever tells you that a belly button can't fall off, you can now tell them that in fact it can rip off, in which case a surgeon can sew it back on using a patch. Truly.

The breakdown on my exercise and activity restrictions is fairly strict. Nothing but walking on relatively level ground for four weeks. Hiking OK from week 4 - 6. Biking and running only OK after 6 weeks. No backpacks heavier than 10 lbs for 6 weeks. Carrying Grant is OK, but try not to bend over with him in my arms, and don't carry him on one side or hip for more than a second or two. Carrying Cooper is totally out for 4 weeks, and cautiously OK for very brief periods from 4 - 6 weeks, but mostly to be avoided for the full 6 weeks.

Much of this activity restriction isn't from my hernia exactly, but instead from the repair that she had to do on my muscle structure to ensure that the hernia didn't reoccur. I have almost an eight inch span of muscle repairs, which does explain why whenever I run low on painkillers, my ribs hurt. It is because they sort of got sewn back together last week.

Still not sure

I got to take off the surgical dressings and take a peek at my surgery site today. I still am not sure how long the incision really is- my surgeon drew a ton of funky lines pre-op all over my skin with a marker as she and I discussed my exact options for the repair, and so under all the steri strips and distorted skin I actually can't tell what is incision, and what is surgical pen red lines. Kinda weird, really. Regardless, its certainly under 4" long, and probably more like 3". And I was right- I got all steri-strips (glue stitches) and no traditional external stitches, and no staples. So that's nice, as steri-strips generally scar less.

Showering felt good, too. Ahhh.... and I halved my pain med dosage this morning to see if I would still be comfortable with a lower dose, and I am. So that's nice. I'm less loopy on the lower dose for sure!

Only 20 more days in a corset

We're doing very well here with post-op recovery. 2:30am and 6:30am were unpleasant- those were when Matt and my phones both rang really loudly, at opposite ends of the bedroom, for what Matt dubbed the "drug alarms." This was to make sure I took my pain pills on time, as not only does being in pain suck, it suppresses breast milk production and that could make us all very miserable, very quickly. But other than the rude awakenings to eat a few crackers and down some pills, the night was fine and today has been good. Grant doesn't seem extra sleepy or cranky, and I've been reassured by four separate doctors that he will have no ill effects from breastfeeding while I'm on the particular meds I need to take, so that's great.

The post anesthesia nausea yesterday was pretty mild, and I got my appetite back around mid-afternoon, so Matt took it upon himself to make me a healthy high fiber meal with a few of my very favorite things. It might sound bizarre, but turkey bacon wrapped around roasted asparagus on a bed of brown rice, with a side of cold carrot sticks, is one of the damn tastiest things I've ever had. And Cooper LOVED his "green sticks with bacon!" much to our amusement. He daintily pulled each asparagus stalk out of the bacon bundle, nibbled it to nothing, and then ate each empty circular crispy bacon shell last. He also asked for a second helping of brown rice, which was amazing to me. He eats more then me some meals.

I still don't know how many stitches I have, because I was told not to take off my surgical dressing until tomorrow. I actually think they used those glue-on strips instead of stitches, but we'll see tomorrow, I suppose. I also have no idea how long the incision is, for the same reason. I do know that the piece of repair-mesh that they inserted under my abdominal wall tissue was 3" x 6", but that stuff is very flexible and thin, and it is designed to be inserted with a minimal incision, so those dimensions don't tell me very much in terms of what my incision scar will look like.

Matt informs me I look like myself again, after spending yesterday rather pale. So that's nice. And the IV that the nurse gave me was amazing- no bruising, no swelling. It looks like I got caught by a thorn- no joke. Just a bitty scratch. I'm really impressed by that!

In terms of practical things, I'm happy to report that while I'm on strict orders to take it very easy, I can still do all the things a person needs to do. I can go up and down the stairs unassisted, get in and out of bed without help, pick things up off the floor as long as I use very good posture, and I'm allowed to stay on my feet as long as I want. Tomorrow I can shower again, so that'll be nice.

The only bummer is that while I can pick up Grant (although I was told not to carry him around much- just pick up and put back down as needed), I'm forbidden to pick up Cooper for at least three weeks. He's just too heavy. Luckily, Cooper is all about "I DO IT MYSELF!!!" lately, so today I've been able to subtly coerce him into getting into the changing table by himself, climbing onto the couch by himself, getting onto the kitchen chairs by himself... you get the idea.

Back at home!

My umbilical hernia surgery was this morning, and I'm home! The surgeon had to do a lot more repair than originally anticipated because my muscle separation from the two pregnancies was wider than normal once she got a look at it, so I'm facing a longer recovery than we thought going into this. But for now I'm doing well, in large part thanks to Lortab, and I'll be able to take short walks starting tomorrow. I'm kind of amused that I have to wear a spandex corset for the next three weeks... that ought to be interesting.

Cross your fingers that I have an "innie" again when all this is done!

The bike

We got Cooper a tiny red bike. It is awesome. He loves it to death. I mean seriously, it is unbelievable how much he likes this bike. All we've done, all we've talked about, and all the exercise he's gotten since this bike was purchased (Friday morning) has been about the bike. That's really about 7 hours of biking a day, for four days. Honest to god.

After breakfast for the last three days, he's run out to the garage door yelling about how he needs his bike and his bike helmet and momma open the gate and Cooper wants to ride his bike in the street and ride the bike to see Mudge (a local dog he likes) and ride the bike to the park to see the horsies and Dada push Cooper on the bike to go fast and ride the bike to Julie's and Ollie's house (pronounced "JewwyOwwies hoooome"). Then he rides it around in the yard. And as soon as Grant has started his morning nap (often around 8:30am), we head out onto the pavement.

The baby monitor barely, barely receives a working signal as we circle the block over, and over, and over again, incredibly slowly. Cooper stops and stands still for every car (Matt taught him that, and while it is safe, it is tiresome). He patiently aligns his tiny handlebars with his body each time he falls, and murmurs, "Cooper got it. Bike up." This morning we spent 30 minutes watching a man with a chainsaw cut dead limbs off a neighbor's tree, all the time standing transfixed on the bike. "Cooper, do you want to go get closer to the man and the tree?" "No. Cooper on bike. No loud noise." "OK, Cooper, do you want mama to push you on the bike away from the loud noise?" "No. My got it."

Last night, as I attempted to get Cooper off his bike and inside to go to bed, he started throwing a fit and crying. When I finally got him to calm down enough to talk, it was revealed that the problem wasn't exactly that I had told him he needed to get off his bike. The problem was that Dad told him the helmet ALWAYS stays with the bike, and I had foolishly put it on the bench in the entryway, and what if "helmet went missin'" and then, well... chaos, right? The end of the world? So I told Cooper that I had made a mistake, and of course he should go RIGHT NOW and put the helmet on his bike. He wiped up the tears and trotted out to the bike, gently placed his tiny red helmet onto the handlebars (just like Mom and Dad do) and came back inside to go to bed.

Needless to say, this weekend's biking ranks second only to Cooper's first day on skis in terms of things Cooper has done that make Matt feel like the proudest, happiest, father on earth.

really, that's early

Grant bit me on the thumb today. With a tooth.

Where did he get that thing?

:)

Do as I say?

Cooper's young enough to not really know about certain kinds of rights and wrongs, which can make for funny and awkward moments. Two examples;

I somehow dropped a particularly slinky undergarment in the living room a few days ago, after needing it for a photo shoot that a friend was doing for her magazine for modern moms. Gotta have clean lines under tight dresses even when you have a somewhat bumpy post-partum figure, you know. Anyway- yesterday Cooper found said undergarment, puzzled over it for a moment, and then proceeded to try and wear a flesh colored pair of women's thong underwear the same way that Borat wears his bathing suit- legs through the holes, but instead of the sides being on the hips, they go over the shoulders in a dramatic and wholly inappropriate V. All the time, Cooper was proclaiming, "Cooper wear mama underpants on his bottom! Yay!" Matt was laughing so hard I thought he might burst a blood vessel.

Sometimes, when Lucky barks a lot at people or other dogs, Matt or I will say, "Lucky, that's enough" in a stern voice. And then Lucky usually stops barking. I didn't really realize how much Cooper was listening to things we said to the dog until a few days ago when the whole family was in the car together. Grant was crying pretty loudly and Cooper was obviously pretty unnerved by how upset Grant was. After a minute or two, Cooper turned to him and said, in a very serious tone, "Dant, that's enough."

Also, Cooper has decided that he knows how to parent. When Grant is crying upstairs, he tells us that we should "Check baby and be right back." And if Grant is crying while we are holding him, he declares, "Mama try nursing."

Rollin' rollin' rollin'

I forgot to mention- Grant can roll over! He's not very good at it yet, but he's rolled over (front to back) at least 5 or 6 times. He's also started moving around the crib in his sleep like Cooper used to do. Cooper used to get put to bed at the "bottom" of his crib (with his feet by the bars, head near the middle) and then I'd wake up and his head would be smooshed against the "top" corner. I personally think this is very cool, as this must mean that Grant is getting stronger and much better at moving his limbs and squirming around.

Grant is also about 90% there in rolling back to front. He gets almost 100% over and then sort of panics and flails and rolls back flat on his back. I give it about two more weeks.

T minus two weeks

Matt and I have decided to take a strategy known as "cold turkey" on the toilet training. As you might guess, it goes like this: once you are pretty convinced that your child is ready to go to full-time underpants, you just stop using diapers one day and never look back. No matter what.

Given Cooper's unbelievable bladder control (which he displays by peeing 10 to 15 times per session, in order to carefully harvest the greatest number of jellybeans from the jar), I'm pretty dang sure he's ready. And he's shown a pretty consistent pattern with toilet training- when we change the routine somehow, he's excited by the novelty at first and uses his potty many many times a day, and then within a few days he goes back to diapers full time. So I think he'll probably resist the full time undies for a few days, then get used to it for a few days, and then it will be normal.

Of course, as a friend pointed out, you can't really go anywhere during the initial shock-and-awe phase of this, because you are guaranteed to have an accident. That's fine with me, though. That's why there are two parents. And also, this doesn't apply to overnight diapers. No need to make the kid sleep in his own pee.

Starting on the afternoon of the 27th of May, we're doing it. Wish us luck.

Oh, and also, did you know you cannot get little boy underpants from our Target that don't have some kind of registered cartoon character on them? Nope. You have to choose from this selection; Elmo, Diego, Toy Story, Cars, Thomas the Train, or Mickey Mouse. I wouldn't really care except that Cooper doesn't know any of those cartoons, so they don't really appeal to him. Why no just plain cute pictures of bikes or dogs? Sheeeesh. I guess I'll be going back to gymboree's awesome selection of overpriced little boy underpants covered in various cool animals- like alligators! Yeah!

Welcome to phrases

Cooper has now advanced in his language absorbing abilities into the realm of learning whole phrases. The funny part is when he uses them a little wrong, or just without really knowing what exactly he's saying.

Two examples:

For a while, when Cooper closed a door or drawer, he was saying something that was incomprehensible. Matt and I were puzzled. Then a few days ago he said it a little better. I'll let you guess- it sounded like "wash the fin noises." Answer at the bottom.

On Mother's Day, I requested a Mother's Day kiss like this, "Cooper, can I have a kiss?" Cooper was too busy sorting ballpoint pens according to their colors, and replied, "No, you're all set."

Answer to translation... watch your fingers.

Suck it

Last night, Matt turned to me as we were sitting on the futon upstairs and said, "I can't believe how different the boys are."

And it is true. Grant is a horse of a different color in many respects. Sure, he's currently not a fan of the bottle (same as Cooper) and is very big and strong (same as Cooper). But he's also extremely positive, cheery, and independent- as opposed to Cooper's rather delicate, easily irritated, and very needy nature as an infant. If you put Grant down in the bed while he's tired, he'll usually coo and giggle for a while, then whine and grunt, and then fall silent- sleeping. If you put him on the couch to look at the world when he's fed and calm, he'll sit there for almost 15 minutes, just gripping the edge of a blanket and watching things go by. Cooper wasn't capable of that kind of poise until he was about, oh, 18 months.

But lately, something new has cropped up. Grant is a thumbsucker. It is hilarious to Matt and me. We had no idea how incredibly intense the need to thumbsuck could be. Grant loves it to the extreme. Last night, he sucked his thumb HARD for almost 45 minutes before falling asleep.

We've started doing sort of a rakish half-swaddle to allow Grant his thumb. His right arm is still pinned down hard to his body by the blanket, but his left is free to indulge in thumbsucking. And suck he does. This morning he sucked the life out of that thing, eyes screwed shut, otherwise peaceful, for two hours. Unreal.

I do realize that there is the potential for me to be pretty unhappy with this habit when he's about three years old. But whatever. It is very clear to me that he needs his thumb. Cooper never gave a second look at his thumb- it held zero appeal. Grant though, he's got a buddy, and it is his left thumb.

It was nine in the morning

Grant is a sweet kid. His idea of a good time is being tickled on the belly when you change his diaper, or admiring the extremely handsome baby that lives in the bathroom mirror. But by far the most amazing part about him is his love for sleep, and the relative ease with which he falls asleep. Last night he went to sleep around 8:30pm, woke up at 5:30am to nurse for about a half an hour, and then slept until NINE. 9. In the morning. Outrageous.

Then, he got fussy around 10:15, so I nursed him, did his diaper, patted his back, swaddled him up, and put him in bed. After five minutes of whining and grunting in annoyance, he was peacefully asleep again for his morning nap.

I know things change, and that he might outgrow his love for sleep, or outgrow his miraculous ability to fall asleep without either being continuously held, rocked, or nursed. But good lord is it convenient and wonderful right now!

Farewell, zits. Hello, hair loss.

Two things have happened nearly simultaneously here in the Radwood household.

1. Grant's baby acne is now a thing of the past. Finally! Poor kid has been zitty for almost two months! He now has gorgeously rosy baby skin that is completely smooth and soft.

2. I'm losing hair by the handful. It is gross. I hate this part of the postpartum process. Matt already had to "drano" the tub because it was draining too slow. Blech. Time to get out the special ultra fine drain-hair-catcher-thingy and start brushing my hair twice a day to contain the mess. Soon, if it is like last time, my hairline will even recede a little. I do know it will all grow back, but seriously, yuck.

Funnier by the day

The more Cooper speaks, and the bigger his vocabulary becomes, the more entertained I am by his antics.

We were jumping off the side of the deck while holding hands (a favorite activity, it is only about 18" up and we land in the grass) and I was counting to three, i.e. 1, 2, 3, JUMP! Then, Cooper decided it was "my hurn! my hurn!" and started counting for us. Using his own methods...

"1, 2, 3, DUMP!" (jumps) "Yaaaaaay!!! Boo fall down!"
"3, 4, 8, DUMP!" (jumps) "Yaaaaaay!!! Boo dumping! den!!" (den = "again")
over and over and over again.

He is very consistent that proper Cooper counting is either 1 2 3 4 8 or rarely 1 2 3 4 7 8. We tell him that 5 comes next all the time, to no avail. No mention of 6.

So, after a while, I got a little tired of jumping off the deck. So I suggested he try to do it himself like a big boy. He looked excited at the idea.

This is what happened next.

"1, 2, 3, 4... 8... DUMP!" (bends knees. gets nervous. stands up and looks at me.) "No. Too high. No mama. No Boo hurt. Too high. Need mama hand. HAAAAAND!!" (I give him my hand) "Yaaay! Boo dump! Dump!" (jumps flawlessly to the ground) "YAaaaaaay!!!!"

This is why I'm not too worried about the kid's safety. At a mere 18" off the ground, he refuses to jump off the deck without holding my hand because he's concerned he might get hurt. Almost shocking, really. It does confirm my notion that the two foot tall stack of bricks in the backyard may not be entirely safe, but given the quirks of my rather careful child, is also not a major liability.

Moo and Wah

I've officially begun the process of becoming a registered Human Milk Donor! Neat! I'll need to fill out an enormous form, get permission slips from my midwife and Grant's doctor, get a blood test, and pump at least 150 extra ounces of milk over the next 3 months. I also have to make sure to not donate milk that I pump up to 12 hours after I take an advil or tylenol. But aside from those rules and errands, this should be pretty easy for me, and I'll be helping sick babies. Very cool!

My excitement is mediated a little bit by the fact that I have to go back to work in two weeks. It isn't that I don't like my job (I do like it, very much), it is just that I really love the freedom and fun of not having a job. Parenting Grant is easy right now, and Cooper is fun and adorable most of the time (and a normal, demanding, toddler the rest of the time) and it is just that, well, if we could afford it, I wouldn't go back to work for a long, long time.

But we can't. And I'm fortunate to have a great job, a great husband, and the flexibility to go back part time. So I guess I should try to focus on those positives.

Also, my home office is getting closer to functionality. Insulation is 50% done, flooring is purchased, and we are getting there. Me being in the office by the 4th is doubtful, but not impossible.

In contrast

This morning was also delightful, with the small exception that at about 7:45am Grant gagged indelicately on some phlegm and then forcefully vomited apparently a gallon of curdled milk all over my chest, stomach, and lap as well as the bed sheets. I yelped, "Oh gross- help!" Matt groggily got up, stumbled around for a moment, and started to hand me a tiny washcloth. I said, "No dear, this is more like 'bath towel' level." To his credit, he can't see squat without his glasses on.

After cleanup was complete, we had pancakes and coffee. Lovely.

Set the scene

It is 8:34am. The sun is shining in through our big front window.

Cooper is asleep.
Matt is asleep.
Grant has fallen back asleep in bed with Matt.

I'm watching streaming video of local Missoula bakery owner win the showcase showdown on the Price is Right, while making banana whole-wheat waffles on our Belgian style waffle iron.

I love Fridays!

Two month appointment

Grant had his two month checkup today, and as usual, he's doing really well. He's on target or surpassing all his motor control milestones like watching objects that move, lifting his head, grabbing at objects, etc. And just as we suspected, he's still really big. He's 95% for weight, which is consistent with his previous weights, and is 13 pounds and 13 ounces. He's at about 80% for height, which is again pretty consistent for him with other measurements. The doctor said "He looks very healthy" and that despite his lingering eye discharge issues (he had an eye infection, and then that turned into pretty severe blocked tear ducts) his eyes look quite good at this point and I should not worry about it at all. Excellent!

Cooper was such a doll this morning when he got out of bed. Adorable. "Mama, open window! Mama, pick up baby crying! Mama, Cooper muffin?"

And then, of course, the usual useless, endless, discussion of whether or not I would be willing to let him wear his dino-pj's all day (which I never do, but he always asks).

Cooper: Cooper dinosaur pajamas?
Me: You need to wear pants and socks.
Cooper: No socks. Dinosaur pajamas.
Me: Sorry Cooper. Let's pick out a pair of pants and socks.
Cooper: No pants. No socks. Dinosaur pajamas.
Me: Truck socks! You love truck socks!
Cooper: Mama striped socks. Cooper no socks. Cooper dinosaur pajamas.
Me: You are wearing pants today. And socks.
Cooper: No no no no no no dinosaur pajamas!!!!!!

Roll over!

Grant has done it! In a fit of annoyance at being left on his belly for too long, he pitched over and got onto his back. Congratulations Grant! And good problem solving, too!

Normally, he likes being on his belly. He is great at lifting his head and shoulders in a partial push-up, and is content like that for a pretty long time. Sometimes he slumps down and dozes off, which is adorable. If I set him up on the couch just right, so that his eyes are at chest level to Cooper, then Grant gets really excited to watch Cooper run around the house and his eyes are like saucers. It is great to see him already idolizing his big bro- I figure this will last us another 10 years or so. And Cooper sometimes goofs around and gets onto the couch next to him and imitates him, which is so dang funny. I took a picture- it is on my Kodak site- of the two of them doing "tummy time" together. Hilarious.

Farewell, Tweedy

It is off topic, but I feel compelled... Ms. Tweedy, one of our oldest and meanest chickens, died last night. She's been in bad health (crappy looking feathers, bad posture, droopy personality) for weeks now, so it came as no surprise. And she is/was almost 3 years old, which is, ahem, no spring chicken. But it is still sad. For a while she was our best egg layer. She was mean from the start, remarkably homely, and had a penchant for biting fingers, but was fair to her fellow hens and was never loud or obnoxious. We'll miss her.

Cooper loves to carry a single egg - he prefers brown eggs - from the nest boxes to the fridge and then pick which hole in the egg carton it belongs in. This is a very zen question, as it turns out. Near other eggs, or all alone? Next to one the same color, or a different color? Diagonally from the other eggs, or directly adjacent? Cooper seems to really need to think deeply about this. Sometimes I can hear him murmuring softly as he contemplates which spot the egg should reside in "no... egg... brown... no... yeah. dat hole."

It takes him long enough that now I take the 18 hole carton out, place it on the kitchen floor, and just leave him alone to make this apparently heavy decision. Then he tries to put it back (which courts disaster) and I have to help him lift it and get it back onto the shelf. Overall, it seems to be something he really enjoys, and for whatever reason, something that requires a lot of careful thinking.

they grow up so fast

Grant is growing like a weed. His latest achievements include smiling on purpose, holding his head very steadily while in a sitting position, and standing on our laps (with lots of help) so that he can watch his brother's shenanigans. He also enjoys making adorable baby coos and goos, and is rapidly outgrowing all his current clothing. I need to find the 3-9month box STAT because we are very quickly tossing things into the too-small bin. I know that box is in the garage somewhere. I'm down to only about 3 shirts! YIKES.

He's also large. Big. Did I mention he's a big kid? I figure he weighs about 14 pounds. And he feels like a little football when you hold him- all sturdy and round. It is actually mildly alarming how fast he's growing. I know Cooper was the same way, but I had forgotten the really amazingly fast rate that they get bigger. It is shocking. And I had also forgotten how I sort of mourn the out-growing of certain favorite clothing. Whaddya mean this super adorable shirt doesn't fit? It just fit last week... oh... yes, it is not supposed to be 3/4 sleeved. Sigh. Maybe it will fit on a doll or something someday.

the sleeper

The only one in this house that gets to sleep in consistently is Cooper. Last night was the first night of Ultimate, so Cooper got to stay up late watching mom run around on the fields. He also went for a long walk around the fields with dad to try to make Grant fall sleep in the stroller. Lots of doggies to look at.

Result? A kid that went to bed at almost 9pm (and slept like a rock) wakes up at... wait for it... 9:45am. Bright and sunny, demanding that I let him pour the cereal into the bowl all by himself.

I'm jealous. So is Matt, who had an 8:30am training across town.

A few thoughts

I admit, I thought it would be a failure, but the new fancy yet reasonably priced hippy laundry powder that I bought to try it out on a friend's advice TOTALLY WORKS BETTER than the normal stuff we buy at Costco. Noticeably better at zapping baby related stains. Truly. In case you care, it is Charlie's Soap. Maybe not a miracle product, but actually cleans better with the same amount of effort and only a trivially more expensive per-load cost. Go figure. http://www.charliesoap.com

Now I'm going to try using it to make Matt's ski clothing not smell like used teenaged boy's unwashed hockey equipment. Wish me luck.

Also, I'm gonna brag. Grant is a great sleeper. Awesome for his age, and I'm proud of him. I think most of it is inborn, but I do also think some of it is smarter parenting for kid #2. Probably 20% smarter, 80% damn lucky break. That's my guess. Sometimes he sleeps up to six hours in a row at night, and then another three hours after a quick nurse-burp-rock session, which is pretty amazing for seven weeks old.

And Cooper is such a cute kid. His language skills skyrocketed in the last two months or so, and he now says the funniest stuff. He's also becoming much more understandable and is able to hold a thought for a while- so much so that a friend remarked this weekend "Wow! I totally can have a conversation with Cooper now! This is so FUN!" I feel the same way.

Most recent amusing vocabulary additions for Cooper;
Nipple (adorably mispronounced as Nibble)
Guinea Pig
Alligator
Bike Helmet

Some of my favorite things that he still mispronounces are-
Faw-fee (coffee)
Aw-dah Bobble (water bottle)
Boober (Cooper)
Dat Dable (coffee table, which he refers to as "That Table", presumably because we refer to it as such frequently)
Hair-pane (airplane)

This last one is usually shrieked at a very high volume, while running about randomly and pointing in the air, in response to seeing an airplane pass over the house. Like this; HAIRPANE! HAIR PAAAAANE! MAMA!!! MAMA! UP HIGH! HAAAAAIRPAAAANE!!

OMG.

Cooper is two!

Cooper is growing up so fast!

His birthday party was awesome. Lots of friends and good times. He even ate his cupcake, which is an improvement over last year.

He also surprised Matt and me by starting to use his potty more often. Sometimes he manages to pee on it several times a day, and other days not at all. His record is 5 successful visits in one day. We're excited that this is going well, mostly, so far.

Hilariously, the part of the potty training that is going the worst is his aversion to wearing underwear where it belongs. He's thrilled to wear it on his head as a hat, but refuses to put it on properly. Conversations go like this;

Me: See how Momma wears underpants on her bottom? (pulling down my pants a tad at the hip, to show that I'm wearing them)
Cooper: Cooper bike underpants hat. (waving his bike-patterned underpants in the air, and then pulling them onto his head like a skullcap) Mama dots underpants bottom (pointing to my underpants).
Me: Yes, Momma's underpants have dots on them. See how I wear them on my bottom? That's where you wear underpants. On your bottom.
Cooper: No, hat. Cooper underpants hat. (pointing to his head) Cooper bike underpants! Cooper hat!
Me: Can I help you put your bike underpants on your bottom?
Cooper: NO! HAT! HAT!

Also, I am happy to report that Cooper's 2 year checkup went really well. He's skinny and tall according to the charts, just as we suspected. He's met or exceeded all the milestones for his age- things like "uses two or more words in a row" (he often uses four or five to get his idea across), "climbs the stairs unassisted" (he's been doing that since he was 6 months old, frighteningly enough), "runs, and jumps by lifting both feet at once" (with gusto!), "eats well unassisted" (yup), and "can take off some pieces of clothing" (I would almost rather he was not able to do this, but yes, he can take off his pants and diaper and socks with startling speed.)

Heard at our house

While playing with toys...

Me: Helicopter
Cooper: Hoppa hoppa
Me: Let's try again. Hell-ee-cop-terrr
Cooper: Haaaappa haaaappa
Me: Good effort.

While changing Cooper's diaper

Cooper: Cooper diap-ah change owwnstairs. Cooper penis!
Me: Yup.
Cooper: Dada penis! Baby Ant penis! Ucky Doggy penis!
Me: That's right
Cooper: Mama no no no penis
Me: Exactly

While jealous of attention

Cooper: Baby lie down floor.
Me: Sorry Cooper. Mama needs to hold baby right now.
Cooper: Baby seat. Baby lie down. Baby upstairs. Baby nap. Cooper mama lap!
Me: Nope.

What he said

Cooper's pronunciation is usually quite good, especially for a toddler of his age, but some things are still really hard for him to say. He drops certain consonants and replaces others at random. This makes for moments of hilarity around our house sometimes.

A few days ago, Matt walked into the house after puttering around the yard and garage for a while. Cooper pointed right at him and said, "Dog Shit!" Matt's eyes opened wide and he said, "Excuse me?" to which Cooper clearly enunciated, "DOG SHIT! DOG SHIIIIT!" Very quickly, I was in tears from laughing too hard. Matt was laughing, too, but he was also trying to talk to Cooper and figure out what the heck was going on. Then it dawned on me, as I glanced at Matt. He was wearing a shirt with a huge Siberian Husky logo (for Powderhound Ale, a local beer) on the chest. Cooper's love for talking about clothing had led him to remind Matt that he was wearing a "dog shirt."

Also, Cooper pronounces Juice as, unmistakably, Douche. Yup. "Orange Douche! Num!"

Enough said.

Get out!

The weather here has been painfully nice, and I'm proud to say I'm on a three day (soon to be four day) stretch of getting out into the sunshine for at least an hour with kiddos in tow.

Friday the four of us headed up to Snowbowl to let Cooper get more time on his skiis. He wasn't that into the skiing, but walking around in the snow in his boots and looking at the tame spruce grouse (CHICKEN!!!) near the entrance to the bar was thrilling enough. Grant obliged us by sleeping the whole time, nursing when I was hoping, and then sleeping on the ride home. Good baby.

Saturday I took Cooper to the playground with nice baby swings. Grant slept soundly for all but the last 5 minutes of the journey and Cooper was so excited to have a big open space to run around in. He loves that playground. Swings! Roundabout! Stairs! Slides! Can see the horsies from the top of the slide! Yay!

Sunday I met up with my friend and we walked dogs, chatted, and let Cooper run around in a big open field. Grant slept through it all, as planned. Excellent.

Today the high temp is supposed to be almost 60. Crazy. So far I've taken care of nearly everything around the house that needed tending, including mucking out the chicken coop while Grant takes his long morning snooze. I'm thinking a nice walk in in the sunshine will be an easy sell- especially because Cooper is at daycare today so I have no toddler to coax into shoes and jacket and so forth. Newborns can protest, but it isn't nearly as effective as a running giggling screaming hiding almost 2 year old that knows how to take off his clothes.

So civilized

Evidently the boys got the memo this morning that they should sleep in. Matt and I had a lovely breakfast together, he left for a day of ski patrolling, I started up the dishwasher, poured myself a cup of coffee, and now it is 7:45 and I'm sipping said coffee and reading up on the news of the day. Grant is snuggled in bed after a good night of sleeping and nursing, and Cooper is zonked out in his crib.

Such a nice way to start my day! Now, I need to decide how early I can start calling my friends to see who wants to go for a walk with me. Matt said 8:30, but I think 9am is more appropriate.

Forgot

I had forgotten about so much.

Squeaky sleepy noises.

Soft soft cheeks.

Funny facial expressions with no warning or meaning.

The love of ceiling fans.

Importance of good burps.

Big big stretches.

But now it is all back again, and watching Grant makes me both appreciate him now, and remember how his brother was just as sweet and soft way back when. Awwww...

Lessons on skiing as a family of four

Today Matt and I braved our first recreational outing as a family of four; a trip to Snowbowl to get Cooper another day on his skiis, and to generally just get us all out of the house for some fun. We learned a few lessons...

1) Just like when we first had Cooper and became a three-some, learning how to get out of the house as a four-some is a little overwhelming and stressful. Matt timed it- from "oh hell let's just go" to "we're off!" took 45 minutes. I guess that's not awful, considering the toddler ski gear, baby gear, toddler snacks, nursing mom snacks, Matt ski gear, little diapers, big diapers, switching over the ski rack to the other car... Good god its a wonder we ever leave the house.

2) If you take an extra 45 minutes to leave, then ski-time gets impinged on by snack-time and as it turns out, you should have encouraged the toddler eat snacks on the drive to avoid crankiness.

3) Always check toddler ski boots for foreign objects before putting them on. When we got home around noon and Cooper took off his ski boots, an orange plastic spoon fell out. That could not have been comfortable for him. That explains why he kept asking Mom to carry him.

4) Failing to wake up and nurse the sleeping newborn during the ski lodge snack break will result in a baby that wails for most of the drive home. Rookie mistake! Can't believe I blew that one.

Other than that, it was a fun morning. Cooper did ski (despite his hidden spoon) a few runs and it was a gorgeous sunny day. And we all got some fresh air. Good times.

One week!

It has been a week since Grant was born! Wow!

So far, Grant has been a great little newborn. He's a great nurser and sleeper, and despite his size he's actually kinda quiet. His full head of dark brown wavy hair is totally adorable, and after one or two days of slight orange-ness, his skin color went right back to a handsome pink-tan tone (like his dad- not ultra fair like mom!).

Cooper has been doing really well with all the weirdness and change in his life. He's showing some small signs of stress (possessiveness of strange things, being more picky than usual with food, some nap disruptions) but he's really sweet with Grant and generally seems on an even keel. Today, Cooper even "gave" Grant some toys to play with. The poor kid was buried in them- I had to just keep making sure Grant could breath under the avalanche of loving gifts. The funniest part was that Grant slept through the whole thing. Cooper was adamant that Grant needed a minimum of a stuffed owl, two books, six markers, a blanket, a dog, a horse, and some plastic spoons. To nap with. You know, in case he got bored.

Cooper also has petted Grant's head, and tickled his feet. We haven't tried to get Cooper to hold Grant on his lap yet, because that seems like a lot for our cautious kiddo. It'll come with time. Matt and I agree that proceeding really, really slowly with Cooper is proving to be the right decision.

My recovery was a little rough on the edges at first but is dramatically better by this one week mark. Unfortunately, I sustained quite a bit of damage from Grant's quick exit and have been pretty uncomfortable with sitting and other functions that involve my bottom end. As of Monday I was still really uncomfortable, but somehow yesterday was a big difference, and today I'm feeling really good. At this rate, by next week, I think I'll feel pretty much back to normal even if I need to be careful with lifting heavy objects, etc.

Nap time is just about over... gotta go!

Grant Thomas "Radwood!"

We named the little fella yesterday! Welcome Grant Thomas!

Gotta run. :)

Baby Two arrived!

Well, I did not really expect yesterday to go the way it did... but hey, I'm not complaining.

As I write this, a 9 pound baby boy is making sleepy squeaky noises next to me. He's a cute kid, and apparently was very, very ready to escape the womb when he finally set his mind to it.

Yesterday started out pretty normally. I took Cooper to daycare, toodled around the house for a while, and then decided to take my midwife's advice to "encourage labor" with some castor oil. Its yucky stuff, but harmless, and sometimes it can start labor maybe a day or two ahead of time. With 10 days behind me, I figured "why not?" so I made a weird castor-oil-banana-chocolate smoothie and went about my business (mostly, cleaning the house).

At about 10am I didn't feel so good... kinda just generally crummy. So I figured it was time to take a nap, and laid down. At about noon I woke up to two things- my phone ringing, and a seriously intense abdominal cramp. It didn't feel like a contraction- it just felt really unpleasant. The downside to castor oil is that it gives you diarrhea, and sometimes some bad cramping. Not the end of the world, but yucky. So I figured that was what was going on.

Off to the bathroom I went. After several more cramps, plus the effects of the castor oil, I decided to call back whoever had called me. It was my doula, Michelle. She wanted to see how I was feeling today. "I'm having some really bad cramps, its no fun." Michelle wasn't convinced. "You mean, you are having contractions? How far apart?" I was in denial. "No, no, these aren't quite right. They are waaay to close together for contractions, and they don't feel anything like the contractions I remember. Totally different. I think its just the castor oil side effects." She was dubious. She said she'd finish up her errands and come over in a short while.

I called Matt. "Honey, I feel crummy. Can you please come home? I'm not really in labor, but I feel gross and want you here." He said he'd be home in about 30 minutes.

So now its 12:15. These damn cramps are getting bad, and weirdly, they've become very consistently about 2 to 3 minutes apart and 30 seconds long. All of a sudden it dawns on me. Not only am I in labor, I'm in active labor. NOW. Big time. And I'm all alone in the house. This is trouble.

So I call my midwife's practice. Nurse Tina answers, and within about 30 seconds she pronounces, "Don't do anything. Just keep breathing. Get on your bed. We'll be there in 20 minutes. Try to relax."

The midwife pipes in "We'll be there right away. Just try to relax."

Now I'm in full blown ridiculous labor. I call Michelle again to try to tell her to hurry, but I can't even talk. She knows its me by the number, and can hear me being miserable while trying to talk, so she's saying, "OK Leigh, you are fine, just hold on, I'll be there in about 15 minutes. You're doing great. I'm coming really soon."

Matt got home around 1:20pm, thank god, and things were looking like a baby was coming right now. The midwife and her two nurses busted in the door about 15 minutes later- and the midwife immediately sat down next to me (I was headfirst hiding under blanket, trying not to explode or have a baby) and said "As I came in the door, it sounded like you are pushing. Are you pushing?" Me: "No! I'm fine! I can't be pushing yet! No!" I was like a 13 year old. Total denial. Everything is fine!!

Ooops. Within about 2 minutes (now about 2pm), I started pushing like crazy, and Michelle appears out of nowhere to apply cold washcloths and help Matt stay sane. After 45 minutes of frustrated pushing that seemed to be going nowhere, the baby finally passed under a particular bony arch (the same bone that Cooper got stuck behind for about 3 hours because he was at a funny angle). Amazingly, I could feel it happen, and my whole body remembered that now we were home-free (so to speak). He was born about 1 minute later in a big rush of shock and excitement. Matt almost missed it because it all happened so fast- he was busy trying to arrange for a ride home a few hours later for Cooper and had to hang up abruptly on a very confused friend and run over to my side.

But then we had this big new baby in the living room, crying very softly and snuggling into my chest. Oh my god! It was 2:46pm. What just happened? Didn't I just get up from a nap?

Everything else was textbook and hardly worth talking about. I have some pretty extensive stitches, but a nine pound baby can hardly be expected to pass through unnoticed, and I remember from last time that the recovery to comfort "down there" is usually quick. Baby's hobbies include snuggling, nursing, mewing, pooping and sleeping. He's kinda quiet, especially in comparison to his older brother's newborn "air raid siren" imitation that even made the nurses remark, "Wow, that kid is LOUD." But nope. This one is kinda quiet and mew-y, the way I always thought newborns would sound. Funny.

He's 9 pounds exactly, and 21.25 inches long. That's extra long, by the way. He assessed at 37 weeks, which means that he was in outstanding condition at birth and suffered no ill consequences for being past due date. In fact, it sort of confirms my idea that he wasn't past due at all. I never felt "past due" myself- I still felt totally fine up until like 9:45 yesterday morning.

We are finishing up choosing his name today, and will let you know.