We have been MIA for many reasons but mainly because, well, two kids is a lot of work. So what have you missed?
We had a wedding in California. It was beautiful. Crossing three times zones with a two year old and a 3 month old is a nightmare at times. Having a wife who holds it all together is a blessing. Harrison would not concede that we were in California if asked, we were "AT CARLY'S WEDDING!" and that was the final answer. He misses his cousins.
Sophia now giggles. She is a powerful little child who has thighs like tree trunks, a belly like a mini Buddha, and a gummy smile that makes you laugh and melt at the same time.
We can't wait to feed her real cereal because then maybe she won't want to eat all the time. She actually licked an apple the other day and cried when Liz took it away. The girl likes her food, I think that is a good thing.
She is four months old. It is unbelievable that is has gone by this quickly, yet, as she gets older I get more excited for her to grow into a little girl. I think she will be a special one :)
We went trick or treating. H wanted to open each piece of candy after every house. He loved it. Towards the end of the night and with each house we passed he would say "juuuuust one, one more house daddy?" He then had as much fun, if not more, passing out candy to all the tweens and teens who came by later in the evening. He also enjoyed running back and forth between the neighbors house and ours to make sure he didn't miss a trick or treat-er.
We are in the midst of the two's. I won't call them terrible, because let's face it, when a little guy looks up at you at night and says "hold me daddy, hold me" it can never be too terrible.
H has a fierce streak of independence and fierce streak of neediness. They often collide. It often isn't fun.
H also has a very active imagination. We often spend a lot of time sitting on the floor of his room AKA the airplane, waiting to land, only to have to drive a mini John Deere AKA a bus to the Zoo, where he finds animals for us to feed and pet. It is exhausting and not to mention a wee bit painful when the bucket of the John Deere mini tractor wedges in your bottom. It's worth it most of the time.
I like to think of it as controlled insanity. Liz would argue the controlled part.
Monday, November 09, 2009
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Tuesday, October 06, 2009
September Pictures
No we did not fall of the face of the earth! Here are some very overdo pictures of the wee ones!
Parenting
Parenting is:
* Catching an already eaten breakfast in your hands and on your lap as you try to force medicine down
* Doing seven loads of laundry in one day
* Being used as a trampoline and enjoying it
* Sleeping in a twin bed pinned against the wall with 37 stuffed animals a cell phone, a toy hammer, a pair of mittens, and a copy of Cat in the Hat lodged in your back
* Playing with all the Legos and toy trains you could imagine
* Reading the same book night after night and trying to find ways to make it interesting
* Being able to see where Mickey Mouse Clubhouse is on the TiVo at 5:45 in the morning without your contacts
* Grazing from your child's unfinished plate as a your meal
* Melting as soon as your baby coo's at you
* Wondering how long he will ask for "huggers" and "kissers" when you drop him off
* Sleeping with an elbow across your throat
* Wondering if you are a good parent, hoping that you are, and knowing that you are doing your best.
* Catching an already eaten breakfast in your hands and on your lap as you try to force medicine down
* Doing seven loads of laundry in one day
* Being used as a trampoline and enjoying it
* Sleeping in a twin bed pinned against the wall with 37 stuffed animals a cell phone, a toy hammer, a pair of mittens, and a copy of Cat in the Hat lodged in your back
* Playing with all the Legos and toy trains you could imagine
* Reading the same book night after night and trying to find ways to make it interesting
* Being able to see where Mickey Mouse Clubhouse is on the TiVo at 5:45 in the morning without your contacts
* Grazing from your child's unfinished plate as a your meal
* Melting as soon as your baby coo's at you
* Wondering how long he will ask for "huggers" and "kissers" when you drop him off
* Sleeping with an elbow across your throat
* Wondering if you are a good parent, hoping that you are, and knowing that you are doing your best.
The Parenting Manual
Every parenting manual should have an "In Case of Emergency, Break Glass" component. In that glass should be a bottle of Whiskey and a one way ticket to Fiji. Wait, they don't make manuals? Crap...
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Big Blue Eyes
As a dad it is harder to form a bond with your newborn, especially if they are breastfeeding. And I think, it is especially hard when you have another child because most of the time you are running interference as mom tries to feed or bathe or soothe the new one.
But as I was rocking Miss Sophia the other night I had one of those moments. One that as a new dad you cherish. Sophia is starting to become very aware of her surroundings and is very much aware when I come by - or at least that is what I tell myself because she always seems to smile when I poke my head in to her swing or her bouncy seat. So, anyway, as I was sitting there rocking her and realizing how fast she was changing, she started cooing and batting her hands in the air. She was moving them at a frantic pace but all the while her big blue eyes were locked in on mine...and at that moment I made a connection I hadn't made in the first few weeks of her life.
She was staring through me, into me, like she knew that I was her daddy, and that I was the one who was going to be there for her, no matter what. That I was the one that would console and congratulate her as she moved through the years. That I was the one that would be completely wrapped around her little finger now and forever. And, yes it sounds crazy that I saw all of those things in a few moments of a stare but that is what happens with kids.
One minute you are crazy from exhaustion and the next you are overwhelmed with pride, and joy, and disbelief, that something so small, so beautiful is yours to protect and to nurture, and you get overwhelmed so you read too much into an innocent stare, but it is ok. Because at the end of the day those things, they are what they will look at you for. Maybe not at that precise moment but in the future. Those stares in a rocking chair are harbingers of things to come, of hurts and pains that you will have to sooth and of joys that you will share.
So, maybe it was exhaustion or maybe it was real, but thanks baby for that moment. For the deep blue stare. For giving me something to grab on to and something to look forward to.
But as I was rocking Miss Sophia the other night I had one of those moments. One that as a new dad you cherish. Sophia is starting to become very aware of her surroundings and is very much aware when I come by - or at least that is what I tell myself because she always seems to smile when I poke my head in to her swing or her bouncy seat. So, anyway, as I was sitting there rocking her and realizing how fast she was changing, she started cooing and batting her hands in the air. She was moving them at a frantic pace but all the while her big blue eyes were locked in on mine...and at that moment I made a connection I hadn't made in the first few weeks of her life.
She was staring through me, into me, like she knew that I was her daddy, and that I was the one who was going to be there for her, no matter what. That I was the one that would console and congratulate her as she moved through the years. That I was the one that would be completely wrapped around her little finger now and forever. And, yes it sounds crazy that I saw all of those things in a few moments of a stare but that is what happens with kids.
One minute you are crazy from exhaustion and the next you are overwhelmed with pride, and joy, and disbelief, that something so small, so beautiful is yours to protect and to nurture, and you get overwhelmed so you read too much into an innocent stare, but it is ok. Because at the end of the day those things, they are what they will look at you for. Maybe not at that precise moment but in the future. Those stares in a rocking chair are harbingers of things to come, of hurts and pains that you will have to sooth and of joys that you will share.
So, maybe it was exhaustion or maybe it was real, but thanks baby for that moment. For the deep blue stare. For giving me something to grab on to and something to look forward to.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Thursday, August 06, 2009
Sophia One Month
Oh,Miss Sophia, you my little princess are one month old. The last few weeks have been a blur. Being a second child I often feel guilty that I don't lavish you with enough attention that I might have with Harrison, or that somehow this time around things are less special because I actually don't feel as lost as I did the first time around. But the fact of the matter is that every time I see your chubby (we'll get to that in a minute) face, I am so very proud.
You are a beautiful little thing. I can see, as the days pass, the little glimmer in your eyes. I notice the adorable little features, like your downy-soft hair, and your chinless-chin, that you have.
You are a special little thing, and each time I hold you against my chest I am reminded that I have a little girl to protect, and that is a very big job for a daddy.
Yes, we are still very much surviving. Every day is an adventure and your mother is doing such a wonderful job keeping this house together, that I sometimes forget how crazy things actually are.
You are a sweet, yet very noisy little thing. You grunt a lot and you seem to know exactly when we need to get something done, because that is the exact time that you wail and want to be held.
My favorite part of the day so far has been early in the morning after mommy feeds you. You seem to always be a little bit uncomfortable so I end up holding you on my chest as I dose in and out of sleep for the last hour or so before it is time for me to go to work. I love hearing your little sounds and your breath as you slowly get comfortable and eventually fall asleep against me.
You are starting to coo and I even think I saw you smile! Your a hungry little thing that eats her way through the day and have had no problems putting on weight. You are our little princess, but you are our chunky little princess :)! In fact, you are in the 99th percentile for height and weight, weighing in at 11 lbs, 10 ounces, 23 inches long at your one month appointment.
Your brother still likes holding you and gets very nervous when you cry. He attempts to share his toys with you and for the life of him cannot understand why you don't like to hold his saw and hammer!
You are a beautiful little girl and we are so thrilled to to watch you grow up.
You are a beautiful little thing. I can see, as the days pass, the little glimmer in your eyes. I notice the adorable little features, like your downy-soft hair, and your chinless-chin, that you have.
You are a special little thing, and each time I hold you against my chest I am reminded that I have a little girl to protect, and that is a very big job for a daddy.
Yes, we are still very much surviving. Every day is an adventure and your mother is doing such a wonderful job keeping this house together, that I sometimes forget how crazy things actually are.
You are a sweet, yet very noisy little thing. You grunt a lot and you seem to know exactly when we need to get something done, because that is the exact time that you wail and want to be held.
My favorite part of the day so far has been early in the morning after mommy feeds you. You seem to always be a little bit uncomfortable so I end up holding you on my chest as I dose in and out of sleep for the last hour or so before it is time for me to go to work. I love hearing your little sounds and your breath as you slowly get comfortable and eventually fall asleep against me.
You are starting to coo and I even think I saw you smile! Your a hungry little thing that eats her way through the day and have had no problems putting on weight. You are our little princess, but you are our chunky little princess :)! In fact, you are in the 99th percentile for height and weight, weighing in at 11 lbs, 10 ounces, 23 inches long at your one month appointment.
Your brother still likes holding you and gets very nervous when you cry. He attempts to share his toys with you and for the life of him cannot understand why you don't like to hold his saw and hammer!
You are a beautiful little girl and we are so thrilled to to watch you grow up.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Living with Light
Last night my Aunt Lannie passed away. She lost her battle with cancer after a long and grueling fight. My aunt and I weren't close in the sense that we kept in touch and saw each other often, but she was one of those people that whether you saw her eight minutes or eight years ago, the moment you saw her it was like you hadn't missed a beat.
She had a special way about her. She was the type of person who laughed with her whole soul, and let her love for life show through. She absolutely adored her family and, I think, passed on her zest for life to all of her children.
Lannie called me a few weeks ago, and when I answered the call I could tell her voice was tired, like she was reeling from a difficult fight. But as we talked more and more that spirit that I knew kept coming out. And even though I could sense she was worn out a bit, I got off the phone amazed at how even though she was in this battle, that sparkle, that joy, was still in her voice.
The unfortunate thing about death is that it doesn't spare the good ones. It doesn't spare the lives of the people who mean so much to their families and the ones who have so much more to give.
It is trite to say to live your life to the fullest, especially right after someone passes away, but I do think that the thing that my aunt Lannie taught me is to live with light.
Live your life with joy. Take company in your family and your loved ones. Take time to laugh with your soul because really, at the end of the day, that is what matters. Did you laugh and did you make the people around you warm with love and life?
My aunt had an uncanny way of doing that. No matter what when you walked away from time with Lannie you felt warmer, you felt that sense of love. Liz and I were talking and even though Liz had only met her a handful of times she made the comment that she always was so kind, so loving, like she had known her for years...and that was Lannie, the Lannie that I knew, to the core.
She had a special way about her. She was the type of person who laughed with her whole soul, and let her love for life show through. She absolutely adored her family and, I think, passed on her zest for life to all of her children.
Lannie called me a few weeks ago, and when I answered the call I could tell her voice was tired, like she was reeling from a difficult fight. But as we talked more and more that spirit that I knew kept coming out. And even though I could sense she was worn out a bit, I got off the phone amazed at how even though she was in this battle, that sparkle, that joy, was still in her voice.
The unfortunate thing about death is that it doesn't spare the good ones. It doesn't spare the lives of the people who mean so much to their families and the ones who have so much more to give.
It is trite to say to live your life to the fullest, especially right after someone passes away, but I do think that the thing that my aunt Lannie taught me is to live with light.
Live your life with joy. Take company in your family and your loved ones. Take time to laugh with your soul because really, at the end of the day, that is what matters. Did you laugh and did you make the people around you warm with love and life?
My aunt had an uncanny way of doing that. No matter what when you walked away from time with Lannie you felt warmer, you felt that sense of love. Liz and I were talking and even though Liz had only met her a handful of times she made the comment that she always was so kind, so loving, like she had known her for years...and that was Lannie, the Lannie that I knew, to the core.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Little Chunk
We used to joke before Sophia was born that she would be a little tank and would run over Harrison, who we call "mini mite" because of his lack of size. Today Liz took Sophia for a weigh in and she was 9 pounds 12 ounces...she has gained a pound and 10 ounces since she came home two weeks ago!
Some updated photos below:
Some updated photos below:
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Things I Have Forgotten About Newborns
* They are small. I mean small enough to curl up on your chest and lay there for hours :)
* They really do just poop, eat and sleep
* They manage to sleep 18 hours but you only manage 6 hours, seriously, how does that happen?
* When you want to give them a goodnight kiss they will inevitably throw up on your cheek, chest, and chin. (happened last night)
* It takes but two minutes of them being on this earth for you to fall in absolute love with them
* Their cry could act as a tornado siren and save entire communities
* When they are hungry they will attack any open skin they can find and try to suck on it
* They rule the world for the next few months...and you are ok with that
* They really do just poop, eat and sleep
* They manage to sleep 18 hours but you only manage 6 hours, seriously, how does that happen?
* When you want to give them a goodnight kiss they will inevitably throw up on your cheek, chest, and chin. (happened last night)
* It takes but two minutes of them being on this earth for you to fall in absolute love with them
* Their cry could act as a tornado siren and save entire communities
* When they are hungry they will attack any open skin they can find and try to suck on it
* They rule the world for the next few months...and you are ok with that
Saturday, July 04, 2009
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Dear Sophia
Hi baby girl,
I know I haven't written about you a lot, and trust me it's not because we aren't excited about you, we are. We are more than excited, it's just that we have this little ball of craziness here with us and well, you know, sometimes after he goes to bed I just want to sit and do nothing because quite frankly the kid wears us out.
I did want to take a moment and write you a letter. We are ready for you to come. We are ready to see our little doodle bug. Yes, we have a nickname picked out for you already...actually your mom has had that picked out for a while.
We talk about you all the time. We wonder what you will look like. Will you look like a little Colombino or will you have more fair features like your brother? We really don't care as long as you are healthy, and whatever you look like, I know you will be beautiful.
I also wanted to give you some tips before you come into this crazy family.
Harrison, as you will soon learn is a two year old. He is smart, he is wonderful, but he is crazy. He has been the center of our universe for two years so forgive him if he is a little slow to accept you. He talks about you all the time though, and already has a nickname for you - "Phia"! He talks about holding you and changing your diaper --- don't worry, we won't let him till you are much older, just kidding, we will handle all of that. He is also very concerned that you will cry, which you probably will, but that is OK too. For as crazy as he is, he also has a tender heart. A little guy that loves to give "huggers" and "big kisses" he will, I am sure of it, grow fond of you very quickly. I am sure he will be your protector and I know that he will love you as much as we do.
Your dog is a whole different story. See, before Harrison was born, he was the center of our world. He was your mommy's baby before we had a baby. When Harrison came he wasn't too sure about the whole deal. With you coming along he may just run away. Harrison and Riley have a love hate relationship...I am sure you and H will make a dynamic duo against Riley. He may want your food, he is an incredible beggar, and he may want a toy or two, but once he gets to know you he will love you, and probably really love you once you start dropping some Cheerios his way.
I am not sure what I can say about your mom. When your mom found out that you were a girl she was ecstatic. She set out, I think, to find every pink thing she could find. It finally got to a point where I asked her about it...she came back with a bag of clothes and announced that she got something other than a pink outfit...it was purple!
Your mom already loves you more than you will know. She would give you the world tomorrow if she had it and the universe the next day. She will make you wonderful birthday cakes and Halloween costumes, and paintings...but most of all she will make a wonderful home for you and your brother. There is one thing I am certain; you and your brother will never want for love. The only thing she has ever wanted, and has asked me for, is a family, and now, with you and Harrison, we have it.
I will keep this brief. I am a big sap. I always knew I wanted kids, but your brother opened my eyes, and my heart, and has truly made me understand just how powerful children are. I will do my best to always be there for you, no matter what. I promise that we will have fun, that you will be loved, and that I will protect you from as much pain as I possibly can, though, you will probably face some bumps along the road.
I also want you to know that no matter what, you can do, and be, whatever you want to be. Whether you want to be the girliest of girls or the biggest tomboy, I want you to know that you I will love you and support you in all that you do and all that you become.
We are all excited for you to get here...so anytime you want to arrive we are ready for you!
Love your family!
I know I haven't written about you a lot, and trust me it's not because we aren't excited about you, we are. We are more than excited, it's just that we have this little ball of craziness here with us and well, you know, sometimes after he goes to bed I just want to sit and do nothing because quite frankly the kid wears us out.
I did want to take a moment and write you a letter. We are ready for you to come. We are ready to see our little doodle bug. Yes, we have a nickname picked out for you already...actually your mom has had that picked out for a while.
We talk about you all the time. We wonder what you will look like. Will you look like a little Colombino or will you have more fair features like your brother? We really don't care as long as you are healthy, and whatever you look like, I know you will be beautiful.
I also wanted to give you some tips before you come into this crazy family.
Your Brother
Harrison, as you will soon learn is a two year old. He is smart, he is wonderful, but he is crazy. He has been the center of our universe for two years so forgive him if he is a little slow to accept you. He talks about you all the time though, and already has a nickname for you - "Phia"! He talks about holding you and changing your diaper --- don't worry, we won't let him till you are much older, just kidding, we will handle all of that. He is also very concerned that you will cry, which you probably will, but that is OK too. For as crazy as he is, he also has a tender heart. A little guy that loves to give "huggers" and "big kisses" he will, I am sure of it, grow fond of you very quickly. I am sure he will be your protector and I know that he will love you as much as we do.
Riley
Your dog is a whole different story. See, before Harrison was born, he was the center of our world. He was your mommy's baby before we had a baby. When Harrison came he wasn't too sure about the whole deal. With you coming along he may just run away. Harrison and Riley have a love hate relationship...I am sure you and H will make a dynamic duo against Riley. He may want your food, he is an incredible beggar, and he may want a toy or two, but once he gets to know you he will love you, and probably really love you once you start dropping some Cheerios his way.
Your Mother
I am not sure what I can say about your mom. When your mom found out that you were a girl she was ecstatic. She set out, I think, to find every pink thing she could find. It finally got to a point where I asked her about it...she came back with a bag of clothes and announced that she got something other than a pink outfit...it was purple!
Your mom already loves you more than you will know. She would give you the world tomorrow if she had it and the universe the next day. She will make you wonderful birthday cakes and Halloween costumes, and paintings...but most of all she will make a wonderful home for you and your brother. There is one thing I am certain; you and your brother will never want for love. The only thing she has ever wanted, and has asked me for, is a family, and now, with you and Harrison, we have it.
Your Dad
I will keep this brief. I am a big sap. I always knew I wanted kids, but your brother opened my eyes, and my heart, and has truly made me understand just how powerful children are. I will do my best to always be there for you, no matter what. I promise that we will have fun, that you will be loved, and that I will protect you from as much pain as I possibly can, though, you will probably face some bumps along the road.
I also want you to know that no matter what, you can do, and be, whatever you want to be. Whether you want to be the girliest of girls or the biggest tomboy, I want you to know that you I will love you and support you in all that you do and all that you become.
We are all excited for you to get here...so anytime you want to arrive we are ready for you!
Love your family!
Freaking Out
Children, especially 2 year old children pick up on some of the damnedest things. Case in point; As I was lathering Harrison up with sunscreen the other day in preparation for the pool he had a typical two year old meltdown. For no apparent reason he was screaming like someone had just stolen his favorite doggy.
Liz yells in the room, asking if I had gotten the sunscreen in his eyes. I yelled back "NO, he is just freaking out!"
Fast forward about 10 minutes as I am getting my suit on in our room I hear Liz ask Harrison in the living room, "What's wrong, why are you crying?"
His reply: "I crying...I freaking out"
Liz yells in the room, asking if I had gotten the sunscreen in his eyes. I yelled back "NO, he is just freaking out!"
Fast forward about 10 minutes as I am getting my suit on in our room I hear Liz ask Harrison in the living room, "What's wrong, why are you crying?"
His reply: "I crying...I freaking out"
Monday, June 15, 2009
2 Years, a Few Tears, and Many Laughs.
2 years. I try to let that sink in but it still doesn't seem real. It doesn't seem like it was two years ago today that mommy woke me in the middle of the night with a worried yet very cheery "I think my water broke...or I peed the bed". It doesn't seem like it was two years ago when my life, our life, changed forever.
Two years is really just a blip on the screen of your life. A blip but somehow it is more significant. Two years means you are no longer our baby. No longer our little baby boy that slept curled up on our chest with his little butt in the air. No longer the the little baby turning into a little guy.
You are NOW that little guy. A little guy that can mimic how mommy says "Honey" "Hah-KNEE" or who likes to walk up to us and announce just exactly what you are doing "I, I, I Fixing!"
You have brought us so many laughs, I could write a book about these last two years, but really, I can say what I feel in just a few words.
You are the best thing that has happened to us. You are a bright, smart, beautiful little boy that makes us laugh each day. Thank you for your wonderful spirit, your tender heart, and the sweetness that is you. We love you forever!
Tuesday, June 09, 2009
Time Bombs and Watermelon Kisses
There are some moments as a parent when you know that the next hour or so of your life is going to be less than ideal. Those moments usually begin with the sitter saying "He didn't really take a nap today". Sure he is cute and funny as he's running around but you know that much like a time bomb this little guy is about to go off...and you do not want to be in the blast zone when he does.
So sure enough the moment your foot hits the doorway...tick, tick, BOOM! Tears, "I want Mommy" "I want drink" "I want..." you get the picture. And just when you think you can't take it and you are swearing off any more children for the rest of your life (though one is due to arrive on your doorstep any day), the little angel sticks a piece of watermelon in his grimy paws, sticks it in your mouth and grabs both your cheeks, plants a sticky, wet watermelon kiss on your lips and wraps his arms around your neck like you're the last life ring on the Titanic.
Then you forget the last 59 minutes and 40 seconds, remember those sweet 10 seconds and realize that life isn't so bad.
So sure enough the moment your foot hits the doorway...tick, tick, BOOM! Tears, "I want Mommy" "I want drink" "I want..." you get the picture. And just when you think you can't take it and you are swearing off any more children for the rest of your life (though one is due to arrive on your doorstep any day), the little angel sticks a piece of watermelon in his grimy paws, sticks it in your mouth and grabs both your cheeks, plants a sticky, wet watermelon kiss on your lips and wraps his arms around your neck like you're the last life ring on the Titanic.
Then you forget the last 59 minutes and 40 seconds, remember those sweet 10 seconds and realize that life isn't so bad.
Tuesday, June 02, 2009
Friday, May 29, 2009
Time to Potty?
I am quickly learning as a parent that one of the hardest things is the little momentous occasions that signify that your little baby is growing up. The walking and talking are things that you look forward to but the other things, like when they start saying "I do it" or "MINE" are the moments when as a parent you stop and realize that yes, they do grow up, and yes, it is faster than you thought it would happen.
Today was one of those moments. I was in the midst of crafting a request for proposal from our creative agency when my cell phone rang. Being in the groove I ignored it but as I wrapped up the proposal and sent it out I grabbed my phone and listened to the voicemail. It was Liz calling to tell me that H had just gone potty in the "big potty".
We just bought one of those seats that sits on a normal toilet seat this past weekend because H had started wanting to sit on the potty and "pretend". We have decided that we aren't going to push him, well, because when Sophia comes we expect that he might not be so willing to grow up.
So listening to that voicemail put a little shock to my system as I realized that this thing, this parenting thing, goes fast. Yes, he is still a little guy and of course it's not like he is asking me for the car keys, but it's just another one of those steps.
Maybe it wouldn't have hit me as hard if when we were getting him ready for bed tonight and he again wanted to go to the potty, as he sat there insisting "I pooping", he wouldn't have looked me square in the eye and said "I need book"
Today was one of those moments. I was in the midst of crafting a request for proposal from our creative agency when my cell phone rang. Being in the groove I ignored it but as I wrapped up the proposal and sent it out I grabbed my phone and listened to the voicemail. It was Liz calling to tell me that H had just gone potty in the "big potty".
We just bought one of those seats that sits on a normal toilet seat this past weekend because H had started wanting to sit on the potty and "pretend". We have decided that we aren't going to push him, well, because when Sophia comes we expect that he might not be so willing to grow up.
So listening to that voicemail put a little shock to my system as I realized that this thing, this parenting thing, goes fast. Yes, he is still a little guy and of course it's not like he is asking me for the car keys, but it's just another one of those steps.
Maybe it wouldn't have hit me as hard if when we were getting him ready for bed tonight and he again wanted to go to the potty, as he sat there insisting "I pooping", he wouldn't have looked me square in the eye and said "I need book"
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Say What?
"I really hope you don't go into labor in the middle of the night"
"Yeah, because you were really on your A game last time around"
"Yeah, because you were really on your A game last time around"
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Out of the Mouth of Babes
Waiting in line for breakfast on Mother's Day, see a man with a beard - pointing furiously "Santa, Santa"
Sitting in the car seat "SIGH...Mommy do that"
As pajama shirt comes off "I'M NAKED BABY"
"I see Phia's Room"
"I fix Drywall" during week of home renovation
"I need big Hugger"
"Yeah, Uh Hum"
"Riley..GET OUT"
Sitting in the car seat "SIGH...Mommy do that"
As pajama shirt comes off "I'M NAKED BABY"
"I see Phia's Room"
"I fix Drywall" during week of home renovation
"I need big Hugger"
"Yeah, Uh Hum"
"Riley..GET OUT"
Tuesday, May 05, 2009
The Harrison Dictionary
Hold You = Hold me
Hugger = I want a hug
Under = Thunder
Ding Dong - Ring the doorbell followed by "Woof Woof" = What Riley does when the doorbell rings
Squirter = Anything that sprays water
Candle = Holding the handles in his car seat
Driver, beep beep = Wheels on the bus song
Puff, Dragon = Puff the Magic Dragon
Digger = Truck/Backhoe digger
Timber = Fall on daddy/mommy/pillows
Hugger = I want a hug
Under = Thunder
Ding Dong - Ring the doorbell followed by "Woof Woof" = What Riley does when the doorbell rings
Squirter = Anything that sprays water
Candle = Holding the handles in his car seat
Driver, beep beep = Wheels on the bus song
Puff, Dragon = Puff the Magic Dragon
Digger = Truck/Backhoe digger
Timber = Fall on daddy/mommy/pillows
Monday, April 20, 2009
This I Believe
NPR recently ended their "This I Believe" series so in honor of that I thought I would do my own little family edition.
I believe in the power of kids. I believe that they are here to teach us adults to laugh at ourselves. That the beauty of this crazy mess is in the simple moments.
I believe that a child's love is the purest love you will ever see. They don't want your money they simply want your time and your hugs...and in Harrison's case your phone :)
I believe that when a child is learning to talk you best watch your words as carefully as if your grandmother were in the room...even more so!
I believe that after 5 hours of airline delays the airlines should be forced to sit in a 3x3 seat with your child for the remainder of the ride. I also believe that when your child stands up as people are waiting to get off the plane and says
"PEOPLE OFF - PLANE" he is only saying what we are all thinking.
I believe that when you promise your child blueberry pancakes you will find him waiting in his chair trying to buckle himself in while you are getting ready.
I believe that when a I see H sitting pretending to read a book a little piece of my heart melts...and a little piece of me wishes he would stay this way forever.
I believe that a second child scares the hell out of me...and excites me at the same time.
I believe that if I had the money I would have 6 of these little crazy creatures...and probably drive us all crazy!
I believe in the power of kids. I believe that they are here to teach us adults to laugh at ourselves. That the beauty of this crazy mess is in the simple moments.
I believe that a child's love is the purest love you will ever see. They don't want your money they simply want your time and your hugs...and in Harrison's case your phone :)
I believe that when a child is learning to talk you best watch your words as carefully as if your grandmother were in the room...even more so!
I believe that after 5 hours of airline delays the airlines should be forced to sit in a 3x3 seat with your child for the remainder of the ride. I also believe that when your child stands up as people are waiting to get off the plane and says
"PEOPLE OFF - PLANE" he is only saying what we are all thinking.
I believe that when you promise your child blueberry pancakes you will find him waiting in his chair trying to buckle himself in while you are getting ready.
I believe that when a I see H sitting pretending to read a book a little piece of my heart melts...and a little piece of me wishes he would stay this way forever.
I believe that a second child scares the hell out of me...and excites me at the same time.
I believe that if I had the money I would have 6 of these little crazy creatures...and probably drive us all crazy!
Wednesday, April 01, 2009
Random Photos
Updated: Some random shots of our really cool fort and H trying on some of his new summer duds!
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Inside All of Us There is Adventure...
Not sure why this made me emotional when I watched it today, maybe because I've always wanted to be in some make-believe land, running with the Wild Things, sailing on ships, and living an adventure? I only wish H was a little older so we could watch it together.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Parental Moments
You know it's time to get toilet locks when you hear your son saying, "cup, water, fill", and hear a "ker - plunk"
What is the proper reaction when you are taking a family stroll and the dog stops to lift his leg and your son follows him and tries to lift his leg over the very same rock? We just laughed
How many times can a child answer "no" to "do you want something to eat?" And truly not be hungry?
If your child is "squirting" you with a bathrobe strap because he pretends it's a hose, is it wrong to move after 5 minutes of being "sprayed" so as if not to get anymore "water on you"?
After how many weeks do you break it to your son that the "lotion" is deodorant, and it goes on your armpits and not on your legs?
What is the proper reaction when you are taking a family stroll and the dog stops to lift his leg and your son follows him and tries to lift his leg over the very same rock? We just laughed
How many times can a child answer "no" to "do you want something to eat?" And truly not be hungry?
If your child is "squirting" you with a bathrobe strap because he pretends it's a hose, is it wrong to move after 5 minutes of being "sprayed" so as if not to get anymore "water on you"?
After how many weeks do you break it to your son that the "lotion" is deodorant, and it goes on your armpits and not on your legs?
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Princesses, Butterflies and Roses
As a a father to a little boy who at the ripe age of 21 months is requesting to watch "gemes" and often wakes up by saying "hockey, hockey, hockey" or "Per-Doo" (Purdue), it is hard for me to imagine that life will not always evolve around trucks, sports, and games.
It is exciting and scary at the same time knowing that we are going to be having a little girl. That my world, our world, will now include pink, princesses, ponies, butterflies, and flowers.
I am not scared because I don't think that I can raise a girl, I am scared because, well, girls are different. They bring to the house a different aura,a different way of shaping the mood and the flow of the home, I know I lived with four of them!
But it is exciting. It has some similarities as it did with Harrison. Similar in that we have been down this path before, we know what to expect. But it is also alarmingly different. Different because well, I am not sure how yet, but I know it is.
I am a romantic, we both are really. Just as I had envisioned a life of having a catch with Harrison, teaching him the intricacy of a good snapshot, or how to throw a tight spiral, I have the same romantic ideas of having a little girl.
Watching her grow up in cute little dresses, teaching her how to fend off those "creepy boys". Having her brother be her protector, seeing her first prom, and yes, walking her down the aisle someday.
I can't help it, that is the stuff a father thinks about when he hears the news that it is going to be a girl. All of this may never come true, just as Harrison may never want to pick up a stick and skates, but it is the things that run through my head each time I think that we are having a girl!
It is exciting. It is scary. It is different. But we are ready. Ready to be blessed with another beautiful child who will be loved, and who will bring joy to our home, just as H did just a short 21 months ago.
It is exciting and scary at the same time knowing that we are going to be having a little girl. That my world, our world, will now include pink, princesses, ponies, butterflies, and flowers.
I am not scared because I don't think that I can raise a girl, I am scared because, well, girls are different. They bring to the house a different aura,a different way of shaping the mood and the flow of the home, I know I lived with four of them!
But it is exciting. It has some similarities as it did with Harrison. Similar in that we have been down this path before, we know what to expect. But it is also alarmingly different. Different because well, I am not sure how yet, but I know it is.
I am a romantic, we both are really. Just as I had envisioned a life of having a catch with Harrison, teaching him the intricacy of a good snapshot, or how to throw a tight spiral, I have the same romantic ideas of having a little girl.
Watching her grow up in cute little dresses, teaching her how to fend off those "creepy boys". Having her brother be her protector, seeing her first prom, and yes, walking her down the aisle someday.
I can't help it, that is the stuff a father thinks about when he hears the news that it is going to be a girl. All of this may never come true, just as Harrison may never want to pick up a stick and skates, but it is the things that run through my head each time I think that we are having a girl!
It is exciting. It is scary. It is different. But we are ready. Ready to be blessed with another beautiful child who will be loved, and who will bring joy to our home, just as H did just a short 21 months ago.
Tuesday, March 03, 2009
A Grounding of the Ungrounded
So it's a Sunday afternoon. The wind outside is whipping and the temperature is dropping, not what one wants as March approaches but it is what it is. I have just returned from playing the role of super-dad...grocery shopping with my toddler.
H has done his normal cuteness duty, drawing out smiles from fellow shoppers and "he's so cute" from the cashier as she tries to entertain him with the circling plastic bag holder. I am feeling like super dad, not because grocery shopping is particularly difficult, but in my mind I am conquering worlds and negotiating peace treaties.
I get home, feeling proud that I have life, and son, so under control. He and I are sharing witty banter, singing along to Wilco, all as I unpack the groceries. As I start to prepare lunch, I happen to glance at myself in the mirror, Boston backwards cap, faded gray t-shirt with white long sleeve shirt, chinos, perfect suburban dad apparel. I am feeling it.
Lunch consists of a chicken patty with ketchup and bbq sauce, a cheese stick, and strawberries, the perfect lunch for a perfect duo. Feeling pretty good about my lot in life, I serve up my carefully crafted delicacy to the little angel waiting like a baby bird, mouth agape ready for nutrition.
As I continue to jam to the music, I start preparing lunch for myself as I casually glance at H eating his meal.
Then I notice something that doesn't look right. I saunter over and look down. I see a spot of bbq sauce on H's head, then another, then as if I am watching a movie I start to see the big picture.
I shout "No, No, NO," H's little cherubic face looks up at me, a bulls eye of sauce on his forehead. His fingers covered in sauce and his clothes splattered with sugary brown sweetness. He hasn't been eating, he has been splashing.
The kitchen looks like a horror movie, like Sweet Baby Ray was murdered in my home. I have seen enough CSI to know that there is a decent enough splatter pattern to solve this mystery in minutes.
I quickly race to grab paper towels and forget to take away the ammunition, as I turn to grab the paper towel, I feel it. I've been hit. I scramble to take away the rest of the sauce and look at the carnage.
White cupboards and Sweet Baby Rays is just the start. The floors are smeared, H's chair is covered better than a slab of ribs and the table looks like a chemistry experiment of Hunts, Baby Ray's and squashed Tyson's Chicken. There is even a splatter of sauce on the Kleenex box. Oye! I am on my hands and knees scrubbing up sauce and I hear Bob Dylan playing, I think aloud, "I bet Dylan never had to scrub his kitchen floor with Downey"
Yup, that is me, Mr Cool dad...back to reality...
H has done his normal cuteness duty, drawing out smiles from fellow shoppers and "he's so cute" from the cashier as she tries to entertain him with the circling plastic bag holder. I am feeling like super dad, not because grocery shopping is particularly difficult, but in my mind I am conquering worlds and negotiating peace treaties.
I get home, feeling proud that I have life, and son, so under control. He and I are sharing witty banter, singing along to Wilco, all as I unpack the groceries. As I start to prepare lunch, I happen to glance at myself in the mirror, Boston backwards cap, faded gray t-shirt with white long sleeve shirt, chinos, perfect suburban dad apparel. I am feeling it.
Lunch consists of a chicken patty with ketchup and bbq sauce, a cheese stick, and strawberries, the perfect lunch for a perfect duo. Feeling pretty good about my lot in life, I serve up my carefully crafted delicacy to the little angel waiting like a baby bird, mouth agape ready for nutrition.
As I continue to jam to the music, I start preparing lunch for myself as I casually glance at H eating his meal.
Then I notice something that doesn't look right. I saunter over and look down. I see a spot of bbq sauce on H's head, then another, then as if I am watching a movie I start to see the big picture.
I shout "No, No, NO," H's little cherubic face looks up at me, a bulls eye of sauce on his forehead. His fingers covered in sauce and his clothes splattered with sugary brown sweetness. He hasn't been eating, he has been splashing.
The kitchen looks like a horror movie, like Sweet Baby Ray was murdered in my home. I have seen enough CSI to know that there is a decent enough splatter pattern to solve this mystery in minutes.
I quickly race to grab paper towels and forget to take away the ammunition, as I turn to grab the paper towel, I feel it. I've been hit. I scramble to take away the rest of the sauce and look at the carnage.
White cupboards and Sweet Baby Rays is just the start. The floors are smeared, H's chair is covered better than a slab of ribs and the table looks like a chemistry experiment of Hunts, Baby Ray's and squashed Tyson's Chicken. There is even a splatter of sauce on the Kleenex box. Oye! I am on my hands and knees scrubbing up sauce and I hear Bob Dylan playing, I think aloud, "I bet Dylan never had to scrub his kitchen floor with Downey"
Yup, that is me, Mr Cool dad...back to reality...
Monday, February 16, 2009
Write to Remember
I have been bad about writing lately, I know, it's hard. Life seems to fly by and every time I think I want to post something, something new happens and I think - oh, I should write about that instead, then you go and do something cute and...it is just one long run-on sentence in my head. I can't stop life long enough to actually follow through and write everything I wish I could. So, let me make a list of the funny things that make us take pause everyday and thank god, or some higher being, that you are our son.
Things that make us laugh:
- You carry "lotion" around with you wherever you go. Unfortunately it is not lotion, it is a brand new stick of Right Guard deodorant, that has become "lotion"
- You pretend to rub the "lotion" on your legs and say "Lot-an" as you rub back and forth
- You sit in the back seat of the car and say "driver...beep, beep, beep" over and over because you are just figuring out to sing the Wheels on the Bus song
- You now have to have a collection of three monkeys, two doggies, one duck, one "phone", and one or two books, just to go to bed at night.
- And when we come to get you out of bed in the morning we find, three monkeys, two doggies...all on the floor, and you, with a look of disbelief on your face, that they are all out of your crib
- When I put you to bed you ask for me to sing - but if I don't sing the Birdy song the way mommy does, you say "No" and ask me to "Rock" instead of singing
- If you aren't carrying around your "lotion" you carry around a pocket calculator and pretend it's a phone. You sometimes have animated conversations and other times you insist that it be placed in your "pock - et" until, of course you need it out again to talk.
- You run to the TV after a nap or when I get home from work and yell "Geme" and want to watch Hockey or Basketball. Then you push me to the ground and yell "Timber" and want to jump on me
- You try to carry around mom's extra purses, but they are just as big as you are and you have to hold your arm above your head to have the loop stay on your arm
- You see a tennis ball and no matter what you say "Abbey" because that is what Pappa Roger and Grandma Lis's dog likes to play with
- You still can't hear the word Grandpa, and not say "Fire, Help" because you helped Grandpa K build fires over Christmas
The list could go on forever but these are some of the little things that make you who you are, and make your mom and dad fall into bed exhausted, but laughing each night.
Things that make us laugh:
- You carry "lotion" around with you wherever you go. Unfortunately it is not lotion, it is a brand new stick of Right Guard deodorant, that has become "lotion"
- You pretend to rub the "lotion" on your legs and say "Lot-an" as you rub back and forth
- You sit in the back seat of the car and say "driver...beep, beep, beep" over and over because you are just figuring out to sing the Wheels on the Bus song
- You now have to have a collection of three monkeys, two doggies, one duck, one "phone", and one or two books, just to go to bed at night.
- And when we come to get you out of bed in the morning we find, three monkeys, two doggies...all on the floor, and you, with a look of disbelief on your face, that they are all out of your crib
- When I put you to bed you ask for me to sing - but if I don't sing the Birdy song the way mommy does, you say "No" and ask me to "Rock" instead of singing
- If you aren't carrying around your "lotion" you carry around a pocket calculator and pretend it's a phone. You sometimes have animated conversations and other times you insist that it be placed in your "pock - et" until, of course you need it out again to talk.
- You run to the TV after a nap or when I get home from work and yell "Geme" and want to watch Hockey or Basketball. Then you push me to the ground and yell "Timber" and want to jump on me
- You try to carry around mom's extra purses, but they are just as big as you are and you have to hold your arm above your head to have the loop stay on your arm
- You see a tennis ball and no matter what you say "Abbey" because that is what Pappa Roger and Grandma Lis's dog likes to play with
- You still can't hear the word Grandpa, and not say "Fire, Help" because you helped Grandpa K build fires over Christmas
The list could go on forever but these are some of the little things that make you who you are, and make your mom and dad fall into bed exhausted, but laughing each night.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
An Evening with Rick
The benefits of DirectTV? You get XM Radio. The downfall? Rick Springfield with no commercial interruptions! H thought it was pretty fun though.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Stolen Moments
Lately I have started to find a pattern between your mother and me. It happens right after the chain is pulled and the fan starts whirling, the lights turn off and our "good nights" are said. I can hear us both punching pillows molding them to our preferred positions—our bodies searching for the familiar grooves in the mattress, which now that your mother is pregnant again, seem harder for her to find:). But as our bodies slowly melt into our familiar positions on our sides of the bed there is a moment of silence, each of us looking at sleep square in the eye wondering if it will come swiftly or if it will take its sweet time.
Then there is that moment—a huff or a roll, something alerting the other that it's not quite time yet. And then it happens. It usually starts with a funny moment in the day. Like how you demand that we "sit" when trying to get you out of bed. Or how now that you are in your hording stage, you "take" random things. Everything from the most inconspicuous item, a Nilla Wafer, to the most conspicuous, our dryer vent. It all ends up underneath your arm as you say "take." Usually moving from one point to another, gathering things and setting them down in what would appear to be arbitrary places. Moving to-and-fro with assembly line-like precision until your 19 month old curiosity kicks in and you find something else to distract you. Or we tell each other about the new word you learned that day and how we can't comprehend how much you are talking now. And by the way, "when did he start saying "watch" before he jumped on the pillows?"
We spend those last moments in the dark, talking about you. How special you are. How brilliant you are. Knowing that we have no other baseline for your brilliance, but knowing that you must be the most brilliant of all the children in the world. We know that you are special not because of any one thing but rather because of one important thing - you are ours.
We share these moments in the last moments of our day, and though I have never asked her, I know that she is smiling as we talk. Our moments to reflect on your perfectness, on our happiness. Our moments to share softly together in the darkest part of the night our most bright spots of the day.
And then as quickly as the conversation starts it ends. Usually with another non-verbal cue, a heavy breath, a prolonged silence, and we both know that sleep is creeping in. So we roll over and wait. Listening to your breaths over the monitor, us laying side by side and knowing that no matter what happened that day, that because of you we had a good day.
Then there is that moment—a huff or a roll, something alerting the other that it's not quite time yet. And then it happens. It usually starts with a funny moment in the day. Like how you demand that we "sit" when trying to get you out of bed. Or how now that you are in your hording stage, you "take" random things. Everything from the most inconspicuous item, a Nilla Wafer, to the most conspicuous, our dryer vent. It all ends up underneath your arm as you say "take." Usually moving from one point to another, gathering things and setting them down in what would appear to be arbitrary places. Moving to-and-fro with assembly line-like precision until your 19 month old curiosity kicks in and you find something else to distract you. Or we tell each other about the new word you learned that day and how we can't comprehend how much you are talking now. And by the way, "when did he start saying "watch" before he jumped on the pillows?"
We spend those last moments in the dark, talking about you. How special you are. How brilliant you are. Knowing that we have no other baseline for your brilliance, but knowing that you must be the most brilliant of all the children in the world. We know that you are special not because of any one thing but rather because of one important thing - you are ours.
We share these moments in the last moments of our day, and though I have never asked her, I know that she is smiling as we talk. Our moments to reflect on your perfectness, on our happiness. Our moments to share softly together in the darkest part of the night our most bright spots of the day.
And then as quickly as the conversation starts it ends. Usually with another non-verbal cue, a heavy breath, a prolonged silence, and we both know that sleep is creeping in. So we roll over and wait. Listening to your breaths over the monitor, us laying side by side and knowing that no matter what happened that day, that because of you we had a good day.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Xmas 2008
Sorry for the delay in posting these, we have been anxiously waiting for our new computer to arrive so it no longer takes us 5 hours to upload 5 pictures! Now that we have a beautiful new Dell computer, I will resume my regular posting of what we are up to. We have a lot to share so stay tuned...and enjoy these pictures from the Holidays!
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