I have mentioned a few times that Laurel hadn't yet rolled over. She is five and a half months old now, and I felt like she was slightly behind schedule with this milestone. I'm not sure what I was basing this feeling on, however, because as soon as I looked it up I discovered that while some kids roll over earlier, especially from front to back, rolling from back to front around five or six months old isn't uncommon.
Anyway, she finally did it on Friday! She rolled from back to front while she was playing on the living room floor with Craig and Isaac. I was in the other room, so I missed it.
But she did it several more times today, as if to prove that she can do it intentionally. (She did it so many times that I had no trouble catching it on video.) And while lying on her back later today, she grabbed ahold of her feet for the first time. Finally, when I woke up this morning I found that overnight she had worked her arms free from the swaddling blanket.
It's been a big day for physical accomplishments.
Wednesday, April 30, 2014
Happy Father's Day
Here's a little picture to help us celebrate the day.Thanks, Craig, for being such an awesome father to our kids. This is your first year being the father of two!
Again with the naps
All blogging will be suspended until the baby manages to nap for a period of time greater than 46 minutes.
Just kidding. But our good sleeper does seem to be broken, so you might prepare yourself for another few years of blog posts complaining about naps.
Just kidding. But our good sleeper does seem to be broken, so you might prepare yourself for another few years of blog posts complaining about naps.
Working on etiquette
"I think we should leave now. This conversation isn't very interesting to me."
Well, if you were three years old and out for a walk with your grandfather, what would you say if he met a neighbor and their conversation dragged on a bit too long?
This apparently isn't the first time Isaac has used this technique. Craig tells me that when he was giving Laurel a bottle of milk recently, Isaac said, "This might be interesting for Laurel, but it isn't very interesting for me."
Isaac articulates his opinions honestly and pleasantly, if not politely. So we may need to work on etiquette, but at least he doesn't whine.
Well, if you were three years old and out for a walk with your grandfather, what would you say if he met a neighbor and their conversation dragged on a bit too long?
This apparently isn't the first time Isaac has used this technique. Craig tells me that when he was giving Laurel a bottle of milk recently, Isaac said, "This might be interesting for Laurel, but it isn't very interesting for me."
Isaac articulates his opinions honestly and pleasantly, if not politely. So we may need to work on etiquette, but at least he doesn't whine.
Help!
I really need to upload our most recent photos to the album. I'm caught up through the beginning of June, but we seem to have taken 150 pictures in the last three weeks.I just need to choose, edit, and upload the best ones, but I keep putting it off, even as I continue to take more photos.
To avoid the entire issue, here is a picture I took today when we were visiting my maternal grandmother: Laurel and her second cousin Patrick, who is two months older than her. They found each other interesting, but when we put them together to take pictures, she got scared. Perhaps he was too vigorous? Here she is crying out for help, frozen in terror as he gestures wildly.
Tuesday, April 29, 2014
Hair
Laurel was born with dark brown hair, as attested by this photo of her at two days of age. Even though I had previously theorized about her possible hair colors, I was genuinely surprised that she was not blond like her brother.Isaac is so blond, I guess, that I began to have a genetic expectation that all my children would be towheaded. Instead Laurel seemed to be a true brunette with chestnut brown hair.
Actually, at first I didn't know Laurel's hair color. She was born in early January in my bedroom, which, although it had been heated to a comfortable 70 degrees, wasn't warm enough for a brand-new baby. So as soon as she was born she nestled skin-to-skin against my body for warmth, and we were immediately covered in blankets from head to toe. A hat was added soon afterward.
About an hour after her birth, I removed the hat so she could be weighed. It was a dramatic unveiling. I exclaimed in genuine surprise, "She's got brown hair!"
But things change. Isaac was born with reddish-blond hair, which fell out when he was four months old and grew back as white-blond. Laurel's hair also fell out at that age, and, as you may have seen, is growing back as light brown. In the sun it has a golden tint, so it is possible that she will be sandy blond as a child, but it is clear that she no longer has chestnut brown hair.
Her dad and I both have plain old brown hair, so I guess it shouldn't have been a surprise.
- - - - -
That's not the only hair-related difference between my children. Isaac was born with no visible body hair, while Laurel was born with quite a bit of long dark hair on her body. It covered her upper shoulders, connected her eyebrows to her hairline, and was thickest on her lower back. (This lanugo is supposed to be an indication of premature birth, but she was born only nine days before her due date; Isaac was born five days before his due date.) Most of Laurel's noticeable body hair fell out gradually, but even at six months old she still has a downy tailbone.
Isaac, on the other hand, continued to have very little body hair for his first few years. But about nine months ago he looked down at his wrist and said, "There's hair on my wrist! I must be getting to be a man." I took a closer look, and sure enough, there were white-blond hairs covering his arms and wrists. By now he has also begun to grow visible hair on his legs.
None on his face yet, luckily.
Bad
"What did you say?" I asked Isaac.
He had muttered it so quietly that I almost hadn't heard. He was curled up in bed and we were saying our final good nights. I had just finished reassuring him that I always loved him, no matter what -- no matter if I was frustrated, no matter if I was angry, no matter if I yelled.
Getting him started on bedtime tonight was rough. I had decided that we really needed to play in the yard in the evening, since the 100-degree day had been too hot for us to go outside, but of course after we played it had gotten late and I had ended up hurrying Isaac along. The more I rushed him, the more he dawdled.
How to get him to bed? I tried making a game of it; I tried logical consequences; I tried threats; I even tried shame in the form of suggesting he wasn't big enough to play outside after dinner. And, of course, I yelled.
Eventually the drama was over. After the teeth were brushed, the pajamas were on, and the bedtime story was finished, I brought up my yelling and apologized for it. He suggested, not for the first time, that I should just try asking him to do something in a "nice voice." This made me feel both despicable and defensive. I pointed out that when I had asked nicely he hadn't cooperated. I started to say "You made me angry" but changed it to "I felt angry." I talked about making a deal: I would try not to yell, he would try to respond to what I was saying.
The discussion didn't reach a resolution, but at this point I could tell he didn't want to talk about it any more, although I felt he was still unhappy about the yelling. That's when I told him that I always loved him, no matter what -- even if I yelled.
And that's when he said something in response, half-muffled by pillow, that I almost didn't hear.
"What did you say?" I asked Isaac, my heart breaking.
He refused to repeat it, burrowing his head further into his pillow.
I asked, "Did you just say 'Even when I'm bad?'"
He had.
- - - - -
We had another discussion, although my short answer was YES. Yes, no matter what you do, no matter how bad you are, I will always love you. But it was just as important that he know that he is not, in fact, bad. We've been working hard to convey to him the point that every single person makes mistakes, and that mistakes are okay.
So I tried to explain that people aren't bad just because they have done a "bad" thing. He asked questions and I tried various reassurances, but I wasn't sure he was following the good-people-can-do-bad-things argument. So I turned the tables.
"Is Mama a bad person because she yelled at you?" I asked him.
I knew then he understood because he looked at me out of the corner of his eyes, smiled slyly, and said, "Yes."
I kissed him good night.
He had muttered it so quietly that I almost hadn't heard. He was curled up in bed and we were saying our final good nights. I had just finished reassuring him that I always loved him, no matter what -- no matter if I was frustrated, no matter if I was angry, no matter if I yelled.
Getting him started on bedtime tonight was rough. I had decided that we really needed to play in the yard in the evening, since the 100-degree day had been too hot for us to go outside, but of course after we played it had gotten late and I had ended up hurrying Isaac along. The more I rushed him, the more he dawdled.
How to get him to bed? I tried making a game of it; I tried logical consequences; I tried threats; I even tried shame in the form of suggesting he wasn't big enough to play outside after dinner. And, of course, I yelled.
Eventually the drama was over. After the teeth were brushed, the pajamas were on, and the bedtime story was finished, I brought up my yelling and apologized for it. He suggested, not for the first time, that I should just try asking him to do something in a "nice voice." This made me feel both despicable and defensive. I pointed out that when I had asked nicely he hadn't cooperated. I started to say "You made me angry" but changed it to "I felt angry." I talked about making a deal: I would try not to yell, he would try to respond to what I was saying.
The discussion didn't reach a resolution, but at this point I could tell he didn't want to talk about it any more, although I felt he was still unhappy about the yelling. That's when I told him that I always loved him, no matter what -- even if I yelled.
And that's when he said something in response, half-muffled by pillow, that I almost didn't hear.
"What did you say?" I asked Isaac, my heart breaking.
He refused to repeat it, burrowing his head further into his pillow.
I asked, "Did you just say 'Even when I'm bad?'"
He had.
- - - - -
We had another discussion, although my short answer was YES. Yes, no matter what you do, no matter how bad you are, I will always love you. But it was just as important that he know that he is not, in fact, bad. We've been working hard to convey to him the point that every single person makes mistakes, and that mistakes are okay.
So I tried to explain that people aren't bad just because they have done a "bad" thing. He asked questions and I tried various reassurances, but I wasn't sure he was following the good-people-can-do-bad-things argument. So I turned the tables.
"Is Mama a bad person because she yelled at you?" I asked him.
I knew then he understood because he looked at me out of the corner of his eyes, smiled slyly, and said, "Yes."
I kissed him good night.
Tidbits
* Did I learn anything from Sunday's parenting debacle? Oh, yeah. If I decide to delay Isaac's bedtime, then I need to be prepared to handle the consequences gracefully. I was the one who decided we should play outside after dinner, after all. It wasn't fair of me to expect him to rush through his bedtime routine after that. But I got it in my head that he should still make his regular bedtime. I was a little bit laid back, then a whole lot uptight in response.
* Also, even when I yell I am not a bad person. But it is also true that yelling at Isaac doesn't accomplish anything. However, in general I'm not ashamed of expressing my feelings. Before I had children I was afraid that I would be too emotionally restrained as a parent. That hasn't been the case so far. Maybe I'll get all cold and logical when my kids are a little older. That unresponsiveness is infuriating, as I know from personal experience.
* Did you know Laurel is almost six months old? I'm not sure I do. Her first three months passed slowly, but the second three months have passed quickly. I bought the kids summer pajamas yesterday, and I actually bought some for Laurel in size 3-6 months. I knew intellectually that she is at the very top end of that range, but I could not believe that she was ready to wear size 6-12 months. The result: now she has two pairs of summer PJs that won't fit her by the end of summer.
* This week we put together the Jumperoo for Laurel. I realized that even though she can't sit unsupported yet, she is strong enough to be upright in the Jumperoo. She likes to stand in it, but she hasn't ventured a jump yet. Isaac, who as a baby cried when faced with the Jumperoo's lights and music feature, now really wants to turn it on. I won't let him, though. Everything is so new and exciting for Laurel, she doesn't need extra bells and whistles, so to speak, distracting her and spoiling her attention span and natural enjoyment of life. Plus the songs are annoying.
* Poor Laurel has gotten this far in life without a bedtime routine, or even a bed time. She has been a free range baby. She's still fairly agreeable, no matter what comes her way, but she is growing aware of the lack of structure, and over the past month it has caused some sleep problems. Let's put it this way: she slept better at three months old than she did at five months old. So it's time to settle down. Her increasing distractibility -- which is a good thing, right, because it demonstrates she is aware of the world around her -- means she has trouble napping or nursing when she's in the midst of activity. And, sadly, there haven't been stroller naps for many months now.
* Laurel's night time sleep is still very good, but it's not what it used to be. She woke up in the middle of the night for 19 of the past 30 nights. When she was three months old, she woke up only eight of 30 nights.
* Also, even when I yell I am not a bad person. But it is also true that yelling at Isaac doesn't accomplish anything. However, in general I'm not ashamed of expressing my feelings. Before I had children I was afraid that I would be too emotionally restrained as a parent. That hasn't been the case so far. Maybe I'll get all cold and logical when my kids are a little older. That unresponsiveness is infuriating, as I know from personal experience.
* Did you know Laurel is almost six months old? I'm not sure I do. Her first three months passed slowly, but the second three months have passed quickly. I bought the kids summer pajamas yesterday, and I actually bought some for Laurel in size 3-6 months. I knew intellectually that she is at the very top end of that range, but I could not believe that she was ready to wear size 6-12 months. The result: now she has two pairs of summer PJs that won't fit her by the end of summer.
* This week we put together the Jumperoo for Laurel. I realized that even though she can't sit unsupported yet, she is strong enough to be upright in the Jumperoo. She likes to stand in it, but she hasn't ventured a jump yet. Isaac, who as a baby cried when faced with the Jumperoo's lights and music feature, now really wants to turn it on. I won't let him, though. Everything is so new and exciting for Laurel, she doesn't need extra bells and whistles, so to speak, distracting her and spoiling her attention span and natural enjoyment of life. Plus the songs are annoying.
* Poor Laurel has gotten this far in life without a bedtime routine, or even a bed time. She has been a free range baby. She's still fairly agreeable, no matter what comes her way, but she is growing aware of the lack of structure, and over the past month it has caused some sleep problems. Let's put it this way: she slept better at three months old than she did at five months old. So it's time to settle down. Her increasing distractibility -- which is a good thing, right, because it demonstrates she is aware of the world around her -- means she has trouble napping or nursing when she's in the midst of activity. And, sadly, there haven't been stroller naps for many months now.
* Laurel's night time sleep is still very good, but it's not what it used to be. She woke up in the middle of the night for 19 of the past 30 nights. When she was three months old, she woke up only eight of 30 nights.
New pictures
New album started as promised; pictures from first two weeks of June added; still two weeks behind.
Soccer
Despite a long-ago blog post to the contrary, I'm pretty comfortable with the level of enrichment we provide for Isaac. He hasn't taken a lot of classes or lessons, partly because he isn't a great participator, partly because I'm lazy, and partly because I'm too cheap to pay for them. But we try to make up for it at home.
Isaac has lots of books, his own CD player, an easel and paints, drawing and writing supplies, tools both real and pretend, several types of blocks, puppets, a play kitchen, and so forth. There's a lot of imaginary play, but we also do a lot of "real" things together, like cook and garden and shop and repair things. We, as he says, "study things" we discover outside and often refer to our nature guidebooks. We spend a lot of time at home, because we all enjoy it, but about once a week we get out to a park, a friend's house, or a children's museum. His school, which in the fall he will attend three days a week, is play-based and incredibly rich in activities.
Plus we talk, and talk, and talk.
But something is missing, I realized as I made our plans for the summer. What about physical education? What about sports? Beyond gardening and leisurely nature walks, Isaac's parents don't model much physical activity, and we're certainly not sports fans. Shouldn't he have a more balanced childhood? Isn't he going to be left behind because his fellow upper-middle-class suburban classmates all joined a swim club or learned lacrosse in infancy?
So this summer I skipped storytime and music lessons and art classes, and instead signed the poor kid up for two athletic activities. Today was Isaac's fourth day of Tot Soccer, which is really just skill-building games for children aged three to five. And tomorrow is his first-ever swimming lesson.
How is soccer going? Well, in general Isaac pursues peaceful nonparticipation. He makes an art of it, rather like his father. When asked if he would like to play, he doesn't cry, shout, or throw a tantrum -- he simply prefers not to. He isn't shy and he doesn't withdraw, however -- he likes to work with safety cones, so when the coach starts to set up a new activity, Isaac jumps up and runs onto the field to help rearrange the cones. Then he runs back to the sidelines.
The first day of soccer it was clear we were signed up for a session that would be a poor fit, as it was attended solely by five-year-old twin boys who had taken soccer the summer before and liked to play rough together. Isaac sat with me and watched them, a choice with which I agreed, and the coach suggested we switch to the earlier session, which would be better for a beginner.
The second day I tried aggressively to get him to play, forcing him to stand on the sidelines next to me, encouraging him at every turn, and sometimes even threatening him. I think I reached my low point and exposed some of my own fears when I said, "If you don't join in now, all these kids will learn soccer without you, and then you will never catch up!" He hung his head miserably.
The third day I tried the opposite strategy. I told him he could play if he wanted to, then I laid out a blanket under a tree, and Isaac and Laurel and I sat and watched the other kids play. I felt like I was raising Ferdinand the Bull. It was more pleasant, but he didn't participate in any way. He didn't even help with the cones.
The fourth day was today, and as Craig had the day off, he came along too. The two of them kicked a ball around before class started, which was more than Isaac had ever done before. But when the organized activities began, Isaac refused to play. He wouldn't play even though I promised him ice cream afterward if he kicked the ball, even though I wouldn't let him sit on the blanket with us, even though Craig gently cajoled him. So then Craig had the brilliant idea that we should just leave Isaac there -- drop him off, like with school.
It worked, sort of, which I can report because we walked around the corner just out of sight and spied on him. He chose a ball and kicked it into position and stood with the other kids, at least, even though he declined to do the actual activities. He ran down the field with the other kids to the drinking fountain. And even though he didn't join in the "team cheer," later on he gave Coach Paolo a high-five. It was a huge improvement.
I'm wondering how I can apply this strategy to the swimming lesson tomorrow, where there is likely to be an element of terror.
- - - - -
And what enriching activities have I planned for Laurel? Uh, I'll get back to you on that one. Does a trip to IKEA count?
Isaac has lots of books, his own CD player, an easel and paints, drawing and writing supplies, tools both real and pretend, several types of blocks, puppets, a play kitchen, and so forth. There's a lot of imaginary play, but we also do a lot of "real" things together, like cook and garden and shop and repair things. We, as he says, "study things" we discover outside and often refer to our nature guidebooks. We spend a lot of time at home, because we all enjoy it, but about once a week we get out to a park, a friend's house, or a children's museum. His school, which in the fall he will attend three days a week, is play-based and incredibly rich in activities.
Plus we talk, and talk, and talk.
But something is missing, I realized as I made our plans for the summer. What about physical education? What about sports? Beyond gardening and leisurely nature walks, Isaac's parents don't model much physical activity, and we're certainly not sports fans. Shouldn't he have a more balanced childhood? Isn't he going to be left behind because his fellow upper-middle-class suburban classmates all joined a swim club or learned lacrosse in infancy?
So this summer I skipped storytime and music lessons and art classes, and instead signed the poor kid up for two athletic activities. Today was Isaac's fourth day of Tot Soccer, which is really just skill-building games for children aged three to five. And tomorrow is his first-ever swimming lesson.
How is soccer going? Well, in general Isaac pursues peaceful nonparticipation. He makes an art of it, rather like his father. When asked if he would like to play, he doesn't cry, shout, or throw a tantrum -- he simply prefers not to. He isn't shy and he doesn't withdraw, however -- he likes to work with safety cones, so when the coach starts to set up a new activity, Isaac jumps up and runs onto the field to help rearrange the cones. Then he runs back to the sidelines.
The first day of soccer it was clear we were signed up for a session that would be a poor fit, as it was attended solely by five-year-old twin boys who had taken soccer the summer before and liked to play rough together. Isaac sat with me and watched them, a choice with which I agreed, and the coach suggested we switch to the earlier session, which would be better for a beginner.
The second day I tried aggressively to get him to play, forcing him to stand on the sidelines next to me, encouraging him at every turn, and sometimes even threatening him. I think I reached my low point and exposed some of my own fears when I said, "If you don't join in now, all these kids will learn soccer without you, and then you will never catch up!" He hung his head miserably.
The third day I tried the opposite strategy. I told him he could play if he wanted to, then I laid out a blanket under a tree, and Isaac and Laurel and I sat and watched the other kids play. I felt like I was raising Ferdinand the Bull. It was more pleasant, but he didn't participate in any way. He didn't even help with the cones.
The fourth day was today, and as Craig had the day off, he came along too. The two of them kicked a ball around before class started, which was more than Isaac had ever done before. But when the organized activities began, Isaac refused to play. He wouldn't play even though I promised him ice cream afterward if he kicked the ball, even though I wouldn't let him sit on the blanket with us, even though Craig gently cajoled him. So then Craig had the brilliant idea that we should just leave Isaac there -- drop him off, like with school.
It worked, sort of, which I can report because we walked around the corner just out of sight and spied on him. He chose a ball and kicked it into position and stood with the other kids, at least, even though he declined to do the actual activities. He ran down the field with the other kids to the drinking fountain. And even though he didn't join in the "team cheer," later on he gave Coach Paolo a high-five. It was a huge improvement.
I'm wondering how I can apply this strategy to the swimming lesson tomorrow, where there is likely to be an element of terror.
- - - - -
And what enriching activities have I planned for Laurel? Uh, I'll get back to you on that one. Does a trip to IKEA count?
Monday, April 28, 2014
Six months
Happy half-year birthday, little girl!You are poised on the edge of great accomplishment -- or in other words, you don't do anything yet. You've lost all interest in rolling over, you hate tummy time, you don't sit by yourself, you don't crawl or scoot, you no longer sleep through the night, you haven't produced any teeth, you aren't eating solid foods, you sleep swaddled in your parents' bedroom, and you don't babble.
But you can hold that wooden ring like a champ!
I'm kidding. Laurel does lots of stuff besides chew on that toy.
Laurel is a serious-minded observer of the world. She enjoys tickling and silly games, but only lets loose with big laughs a few times a day, usually on the changing table. It takes a moment or two to coax a smile out of her -- but if she really likes you, she will make eye contact and try to coax a smile out of you! She does this to Isaac, whom she watches in wonder. She is so interested in Isaac that she will stop nursing whenever she hears him, even if he is in another room. (This level of distractibility is not convenient.) It has recently developed that she can be scared of new people if her parents aren't close by. She hates to be carried in a sling facing me, and although she tolerates it if she can face outward, she prefers to have her arms free. Luckily she doesn't mind viewing the scene from a stroller or bouncy seat, and is fairly content when left alone. She really loves to be outside. She likes songs and nursery rhymes. She enjoys being read to, and studies the pictures on the pages with great intensity, although she is puzzled when she can't grab ahold of them (and is frustrated when I don't allow her to put the books in her mouth).
And she really, really likes to chew on that toy.
Exercise
I'm 39 years old, I had a baby six months ago, I'm breast-feeding, I had another kid nearly four years ago, and I've never exercised. Considering those facts, I think my body is looking pretty good.
However, earlier this year I decided that I would like to be in better shape by the time I turn 40. I'd also like to enter my forties with a reliable exercise habit. I'm not just concerned about my looks -- this is my best chance to get strong and healthy enough to keep up with these kids for the next few decades!
I gained more than 45 pounds with each of my pregnancies. With Isaac I started at 115 pounds, went up over 160 pounds, and lost the weight slowly after he was born. I was hungry all the time, perhaps because he was an around-the-clock nurser. I kept snacks on my nightstand because I would be ravenous when he woke me up in the middle of the night. The pants I bought two months after Isaac was born were size 10; it took until 18 months postpartum before I could buy a size four. (I don't anticipate ever returning to a size two, and that's okay.)
By the time I got pregnant with Laurel I weighed 120 pounds. At the end I weighed more than 165 pounds, but postpartum this time I have steadily lost weight. Recently I weighed myself and the scale said 128 pounds! This complicates matters because it gives me much less incentive to exercise -- I'm soft and flabby, but I can fit into size six pants already, something I certainly couldn't do when Isaac was just six months old.
Anyway, my fortieth birthday is five months away. What are my chances of developing an exercise routine by then? Any advice or words of motivation?
However, earlier this year I decided that I would like to be in better shape by the time I turn 40. I'd also like to enter my forties with a reliable exercise habit. I'm not just concerned about my looks -- this is my best chance to get strong and healthy enough to keep up with these kids for the next few decades!
I gained more than 45 pounds with each of my pregnancies. With Isaac I started at 115 pounds, went up over 160 pounds, and lost the weight slowly after he was born. I was hungry all the time, perhaps because he was an around-the-clock nurser. I kept snacks on my nightstand because I would be ravenous when he woke me up in the middle of the night. The pants I bought two months after Isaac was born were size 10; it took until 18 months postpartum before I could buy a size four. (I don't anticipate ever returning to a size two, and that's okay.)
By the time I got pregnant with Laurel I weighed 120 pounds. At the end I weighed more than 165 pounds, but postpartum this time I have steadily lost weight. Recently I weighed myself and the scale said 128 pounds! This complicates matters because it gives me much less incentive to exercise -- I'm soft and flabby, but I can fit into size six pants already, something I certainly couldn't do when Isaac was just six months old.
Anyway, my fortieth birthday is five months away. What are my chances of developing an exercise routine by then? Any advice or words of motivation?
More about exercise
As I mentioned once before, there are few things less welcome than someone without a weight problem complaining about her weight.
So I want to emphasize after last night's post that my desire to start an exercise program is not completely weight-related. I know I am lucky to be a naturally slim person, and I am very grateful to be within ten pounds of my pre-pregnancy weight without dieting. (Well, within ten pounds from the second pregnancy anyway; it's more like 15 from the first pregnancy.)
But despite being relatively slim, I am in terrible shape! I get winded even after a brief game of tag with Isaac. I am so weak that I can hardly lift the infant car seat when Laurel is in it. Besides that, I am lumpy and bulgy and soft, and my stomach refuses to flatten out in the slightest.
So my goals are to increase endurance and build muscle strength. Think I can do that with a treadmill and a rowing machine, the two pieces of exercise equipment we own? Or maybe just by taking the dog for a brisk walk?
So I want to emphasize after last night's post that my desire to start an exercise program is not completely weight-related. I know I am lucky to be a naturally slim person, and I am very grateful to be within ten pounds of my pre-pregnancy weight without dieting. (Well, within ten pounds from the second pregnancy anyway; it's more like 15 from the first pregnancy.)
But despite being relatively slim, I am in terrible shape! I get winded even after a brief game of tag with Isaac. I am so weak that I can hardly lift the infant car seat when Laurel is in it. Besides that, I am lumpy and bulgy and soft, and my stomach refuses to flatten out in the slightest.
So my goals are to increase endurance and build muscle strength. Think I can do that with a treadmill and a rowing machine, the two pieces of exercise equipment we own? Or maybe just by taking the dog for a brisk walk?
Mug shot
It's really hard to get Isaac to agree to sit with Laurel to have his picture taken. This first shot was about as good as it got.Unless you prefer the second shot?
I actually did get one with both of them smiling. I'll upload it to the photo album -- one of these days.
Laurel sitting
For our video blogging debut, here's Laurel's latest accomplishment: sitting!
This video was shot earlier in the day (thus the pajamas), and by evening she could sit steadily on her own for many minutes at a time. She's a quick learner.
Sunday, April 27, 2014
New pictures, sort of
Slowing my ongoing quest to get caught up with my photos, I have gone backward and dipped into the archives.My father has been taking some great photos, so I have added ten shots he took from mid-April through the end of May. They are in the proper album, although to make them easier for you to locate I have not yet interfiled them with the other photos. All ten are at the very end of the album. I'll wait a week or so, then go back and interfile them by date.
The ten photos are mostly of Easter, a visit to my maternal grandmother's house, and a visit my parents made to our house. This shot is of my mom with Laurel.
Changes for Laurel
Laurel turned six months old on July 8th, she learned how to sit a few days later, and just yesterday she had her first solid food*: applesauce. Oh, she was ready for it! For about the past month she had been watching with great interest as we put food into our mouths. Recently she had even begun mimicking chewing motions.
And how did she like it? She liked it a lot. She ate many spoonfuls, opened her mouth wide for more, and even grabbed the handle of the spoon to bring it to her mouth. The suggestion is to wait a few days after introducing a new food in case there are any adverse reactions, but pretty soon she'll be ready to move on to the second course. Maybe banana. Or iron-fortified rice cereal.
What else is new for Laurel? She has her own bedtime routine now, which she seems to enjoy. It has made getting her to bed easier, but unfortunately it has not improved the increased night-waking I mentioned in a post two weeks ago. Sadly, I can no longer say that she sleeps through the night. Is it strange that this child slept better at three months than she does at six months? Her pediatrician suggested that it is due to hunger -- she is bigger, she needs more calories, and she'll go back to sleeping through the night when she gets two good meals of solids every day. I don't know if I buy this theory -- a small bowl of applesauce can't possibly be as filling as a quart of rich, fatty milk.
She has awoken at night all but one of the previous 30 nights. Sometimes when she wakes at night she nurses once and then falls right back to sleep, but this has been happening less frequently. On ten of the previous 14 nights, in fact, she has been awake for a stretch greater than 30 minutes; five times she was awake for more than an hour. And, unfairly to me, several times she has been asleep, but her moaning and thrashing has kept me awake. (Yes, she still sleeps swaddled in the co-sleeper bassinet by my bed. We'll probably move her into her own room once she learns to sit up on her own.) Why so much waking? Why the moaning? Could be teeth, I suppose, although giving her Tylenol doesn't seem to make a difference.
But, you know, I can't complain too much about Laurel's sleep. At her age, Isaac was a much, much worse sleeper. He woke up at night more frequently, stayed awake for longer stretches of time, literally could not fall asleep on his own, and had to be gotten back to sleep repeatedly because he woke up nearly every time he was set down! The difference is so dramatic, in fact, that I really should devote an entire post to it. Let's just say this: at six months of age, Isaac slept an average of 11 hours and 45 minutes per 24-hour period. Laurel sleeps 13 hours and 15 minutes. Folks, that's a difference of an hour and a half.
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*If you visit the solid food tracking section of our baby-tracking site, Trixie Tracker, you may need to toggle back and forth between the two kids by clicking on "Switch Child" right under the kid's name. Obviously we're no longer tracking solid foods for Isaac!
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We didn't give Isaac solid food until he was seven months old. I waited so long because I wasn't ready to let go of his infancy, and because I was waiting for him to be a solid sitter. His first food was mashed avocado, fed to him on my fingertip, and he didn't like it. He spit it out and cried.
And how did she like it? She liked it a lot. She ate many spoonfuls, opened her mouth wide for more, and even grabbed the handle of the spoon to bring it to her mouth. The suggestion is to wait a few days after introducing a new food in case there are any adverse reactions, but pretty soon she'll be ready to move on to the second course. Maybe banana. Or iron-fortified rice cereal.
What else is new for Laurel? She has her own bedtime routine now, which she seems to enjoy. It has made getting her to bed easier, but unfortunately it has not improved the increased night-waking I mentioned in a post two weeks ago. Sadly, I can no longer say that she sleeps through the night. Is it strange that this child slept better at three months than she does at six months? Her pediatrician suggested that it is due to hunger -- she is bigger, she needs more calories, and she'll go back to sleeping through the night when she gets two good meals of solids every day. I don't know if I buy this theory -- a small bowl of applesauce can't possibly be as filling as a quart of rich, fatty milk.
She has awoken at night all but one of the previous 30 nights. Sometimes when she wakes at night she nurses once and then falls right back to sleep, but this has been happening less frequently. On ten of the previous 14 nights, in fact, she has been awake for a stretch greater than 30 minutes; five times she was awake for more than an hour. And, unfairly to me, several times she has been asleep, but her moaning and thrashing has kept me awake. (Yes, she still sleeps swaddled in the co-sleeper bassinet by my bed. We'll probably move her into her own room once she learns to sit up on her own.) Why so much waking? Why the moaning? Could be teeth, I suppose, although giving her Tylenol doesn't seem to make a difference.
But, you know, I can't complain too much about Laurel's sleep. At her age, Isaac was a much, much worse sleeper. He woke up at night more frequently, stayed awake for longer stretches of time, literally could not fall asleep on his own, and had to be gotten back to sleep repeatedly because he woke up nearly every time he was set down! The difference is so dramatic, in fact, that I really should devote an entire post to it. Let's just say this: at six months of age, Isaac slept an average of 11 hours and 45 minutes per 24-hour period. Laurel sleeps 13 hours and 15 minutes. Folks, that's a difference of an hour and a half.
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*If you visit the solid food tracking section of our baby-tracking site, Trixie Tracker, you may need to toggle back and forth between the two kids by clicking on "Switch Child" right under the kid's name. Obviously we're no longer tracking solid foods for Isaac!
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We didn't give Isaac solid food until he was seven months old. I waited so long because I wasn't ready to let go of his infancy, and because I was waiting for him to be a solid sitter. His first food was mashed avocado, fed to him on my fingertip, and he didn't like it. He spit it out and cried.
Swimming lessons
Lesson number one: cried continuously.Lesson number two: dipped ears in the water.
Lesson number three: put face in the water.
Lesson number four: wore goggles and opened eyes under the water.
Rochelle
Two years ago this month we suddenly and shockingly lost a dear family member, felled by a brain tumor no one knew existed. It is still hard to accept that she is gone. It seems impossible that such a vibrant and radiant person could pass away.Rochelle was only 36 years old. She was the wife of my cousin Kevin, and the mother of three little girls named Teagan, Rileigh, and Destiny. This photo of her with the two oldest girls was taken at a family Easter gathering in May 2000.
Among her many other talents and interests, Rochelle was an astrologer. It shouldn't surprise anyone that I am not a believer in astrology, but I was still very pleased to receive a thoughtful astrological prediction from Rochelle just four days after Isaac was born.
She sent this email to me in her typical purple type:
Congratulations and welcome to the world, baby Isaac! It sounds as if your labor was smooth and trouble-free, and I salute you! What a rite of passage, eh? Welcome to parenthood, Craig and Nicole.
I, of course, cannot resist doing babies' charts when I am given their exact birth information. Little Izzy was born with the sun in Virgo, with a Gemini rising and a Libra moon. Without getting into too much detail, his chart bears a preponderance of mental and intellectual capability. He has been gifted with a great analytical and practical mentality with an innate awareness of intellectual matters. His common sense will be strong, and he will possess a keen, alert and expressive mind.
Of course, this is information I get from the chart, but my own "common sense" could have predicted this just from the great pool of intellectual DNA you two have passed on! Isn't it interesting how it all correlates?
Please know that I am available for any help or advice on any baby/parent related matters, including just a listening ear when things get rough. All our love to the three of you!
So did this lovely prediction come straight from the stars, or is it based on "common sense"? Do you think she emphasized Isaac's "intellectual capability" because she knew it would please me? (It did; she was a wise woman.) I never asked her. All I know is that reading it now makes me think of her and smile, and for that I am grateful.
Realization
"Maybe we shouldn't have had a new baby," Isaac said this morning. "Then I could get all the attention."
It took him six months to realize this?
Actually, Isaac's objection is based on a fairly recent development: being shut out of Laurel's room. It has only been for the last five or six weeks that I have had to close the door while putting her down for her naps. Prior to that, Isaac could stay in the room because Laurel wasn't distracted by him.
So about three times a day, Isaac has to play by himself for fifteen minutes at a time, which is usually how long it takes me to nurse Laurel to sleep. He entertains himself just fine -- when he doesn't stop to think about his banishment, that is. Then he gets sad and resentful. Luckily I think he's mostly past the stage when he makes noise outside her room just to wake her up and get attention from me.
- - - - -
Here's a little positive sibling interaction, in this photo taken yesterday in our yard. I took it with my phone; not too bad, huh?
It took him six months to realize this?
Actually, Isaac's objection is based on a fairly recent development: being shut out of Laurel's room. It has only been for the last five or six weeks that I have had to close the door while putting her down for her naps. Prior to that, Isaac could stay in the room because Laurel wasn't distracted by him.
So about three times a day, Isaac has to play by himself for fifteen minutes at a time, which is usually how long it takes me to nurse Laurel to sleep. He entertains himself just fine -- when he doesn't stop to think about his banishment, that is. Then he gets sad and resentful. Luckily I think he's mostly past the stage when he makes noise outside her room just to wake her up and get attention from me.
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Here's a little positive sibling interaction, in this photo taken yesterday in our yard. I took it with my phone; not too bad, huh?
Saturday, April 26, 2014
Jumperoo
Here's a short video of Laurel enjoying the Jumperoo.
You may recall my mentioning that Laurel first tried the Jumperoo at the beginning of July, and by July 15th, when this video was shot, she was beginning to figure out the jumping aspect. (Although I think the most impressive feature of this particular video is her giant grin, or perhaps the way she abruptly stops jumping at the end when she becomes interested in the toys instead.)
I bought this Jumperoo second-hand when Isaac was six months old, and when he outgrew it we loaned it to another family who ended up using it for two of their children. So it has had at least four users, and I think the springs that support the seat have gotten stretched out, especially the front two. I don't think it's unsafe, but Laurel just seems to have a harder time getting it moving than Isaac did -- but then she's at least an inch shorter than Isaac was at this age.
Here's a picture of Isaac in the Jumperoo when he was six months old. He's catching air!
You may recall my mentioning that Laurel first tried the Jumperoo at the beginning of July, and by July 15th, when this video was shot, she was beginning to figure out the jumping aspect. (Although I think the most impressive feature of this particular video is her giant grin, or perhaps the way she abruptly stops jumping at the end when she becomes interested in the toys instead.)
I bought this Jumperoo second-hand when Isaac was six months old, and when he outgrew it we loaned it to another family who ended up using it for two of their children. So it has had at least four users, and I think the springs that support the seat have gotten stretched out, especially the front two. I don't think it's unsafe, but Laurel just seems to have a harder time getting it moving than Isaac did -- but then she's at least an inch shorter than Isaac was at this age.
Here's a picture of Isaac in the Jumperoo when he was six months old. He's catching air!
Groan
Last night featured many of the hallmarks of classic new-baby sleep deprivation: a loud and unhappy baby; befuddled parents whispering together about possible explanations and solutions; varied attempts at nursing, swaddling, co-sleeping, rocking, and shushing; parents eventually taking turns sleeping and staying up with the baby; even an exhausted parent sleeping in an armchair in the baby's room. (That was Craig. Thanks, honey.)
One difference from the classic sleep deprivation scenario, however: during most of last night's activity, the baby was sleeping.
It was eerie, in fact. Laurel would lie peacefully awake in her bassinet by my bed, or in my arms, and her eyes would drift close. As soon as they did, she began groaning. This happened over and over, for hours and hours. The only way to soothe her was to wake her up.
Her slumbering moaning and groaning doesn't happen every night, thank goodness, but it has been recurring for a few weeks now. I even mentioned it to the doctor at her six-month well-baby exam, back on July 13th. The doctor said Laurel was perfectly healthy (no hidden ear infections, for instance) and that he suspected either teething or nightmares.
She groans "Aaaaah. Aaaaah. Aaaaah," over and over, often with a rhythm to it. Last night she kept us up for three or four hours with multiple groaning episodes that lasted 15 or 20 minutes straight. She seems distressed, but it's not clear in what way. She isn't extremely loud, she doesn't sound terrified, and she isn't making a sharp cry of pain. And she isn't awake.
I hope tonight is different. Well, unfortunately at least one thing will be different: Craig isn't home, so managing this situation will be entirely up to me. I think tonight I will experiment with leaving Laurel in her crib in her own room, where she is presently sleeping. Up until now, when Craig and I were ready for bed we have carried Laurel, still asleep, from her crib in her room to her bassinet in our room. It is worth a try to see if Laurel and I both sleep better with her in another room. After all, if she's groaning in her sleep, do I really need to be awake to hear it? (Maybe.)
Heck, if I really wanted to get some sleep, I could set the baby monitor to "voice activated" instead of having it continuously transmit every sound that is made in Laurel's room. That way the monitor would only turn on to broadcast her cries when they became relatively loud, and I think the groans might not be loud enough to trigger it. We'll see. That might be too big of a step for me.
- - - - -
Any ideas, my readers? Laurel never moans and groans during her daytime naps, nor usually during her first few hours of night-time sleep. Tylenol doesn't seem to make a consistent difference, although I continue to give it to her in case teething is the problem. She is still swaddled for sleep, and I know she would like to get her hands free so she can suck her thumb, but she doesn't seem to be straining against her bounds during the groaning episodes. Once an episode begins, if she's wakened she usually resumes groaning as soon as she falls back asleep, and she can keep it up for hours, which makes it seem unlikely that it is bad dreams. She's not looking for food or emotional reassurance. She's not arching her back in pain. It's a mystery. Help!
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Edited that night to add:
Well, as of 12:30 a.m., my plan isn't working so well.
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Edited 8/26/09 to add:
By the way, since my lovely readers are still giving me advice on this, I think I should point out that a night or two later we discovered the problem: she was unhappy being swaddled. I originally didn't think that was the issue because she wasn't fighting her way out of the blanket, but as soon as I stopped swaddling her, she resumed sleeping through the night. My theory is that the slumbering groans were her subconscious longings to suck her thumb. I guess at six months of age she was getting too old to swaddle, anyway.
One difference from the classic sleep deprivation scenario, however: during most of last night's activity, the baby was sleeping.
It was eerie, in fact. Laurel would lie peacefully awake in her bassinet by my bed, or in my arms, and her eyes would drift close. As soon as they did, she began groaning. This happened over and over, for hours and hours. The only way to soothe her was to wake her up.
Her slumbering moaning and groaning doesn't happen every night, thank goodness, but it has been recurring for a few weeks now. I even mentioned it to the doctor at her six-month well-baby exam, back on July 13th. The doctor said Laurel was perfectly healthy (no hidden ear infections, for instance) and that he suspected either teething or nightmares.
She groans "Aaaaah. Aaaaah. Aaaaah," over and over, often with a rhythm to it. Last night she kept us up for three or four hours with multiple groaning episodes that lasted 15 or 20 minutes straight. She seems distressed, but it's not clear in what way. She isn't extremely loud, she doesn't sound terrified, and she isn't making a sharp cry of pain. And she isn't awake.
I hope tonight is different. Well, unfortunately at least one thing will be different: Craig isn't home, so managing this situation will be entirely up to me. I think tonight I will experiment with leaving Laurel in her crib in her own room, where she is presently sleeping. Up until now, when Craig and I were ready for bed we have carried Laurel, still asleep, from her crib in her room to her bassinet in our room. It is worth a try to see if Laurel and I both sleep better with her in another room. After all, if she's groaning in her sleep, do I really need to be awake to hear it? (Maybe.)
Heck, if I really wanted to get some sleep, I could set the baby monitor to "voice activated" instead of having it continuously transmit every sound that is made in Laurel's room. That way the monitor would only turn on to broadcast her cries when they became relatively loud, and I think the groans might not be loud enough to trigger it. We'll see. That might be too big of a step for me.
- - - - -
Any ideas, my readers? Laurel never moans and groans during her daytime naps, nor usually during her first few hours of night-time sleep. Tylenol doesn't seem to make a consistent difference, although I continue to give it to her in case teething is the problem. She is still swaddled for sleep, and I know she would like to get her hands free so she can suck her thumb, but she doesn't seem to be straining against her bounds during the groaning episodes. Once an episode begins, if she's wakened she usually resumes groaning as soon as she falls back asleep, and she can keep it up for hours, which makes it seem unlikely that it is bad dreams. She's not looking for food or emotional reassurance. She's not arching her back in pain. It's a mystery. Help!
- - - - -
Edited that night to add:
Well, as of 12:30 a.m., my plan isn't working so well.
- - - - -
Edited 8/26/09 to add:
By the way, since my lovely readers are still giving me advice on this, I think I should point out that a night or two later we discovered the problem: she was unhappy being swaddled. I originally didn't think that was the issue because she wasn't fighting her way out of the blanket, but as soon as I stopped swaddling her, she resumed sleeping through the night. My theory is that the slumbering groans were her subconscious longings to suck her thumb. I guess at six months of age she was getting too old to swaddle, anyway.
New pictures
I did it! I picked out 33 of my very best photos from the last four weeks and uploaded them to the album! I am all caught up!Here's Laurel laughing!
Thumb
So I have been complaining recently about Laurel's sleep habits, which have been deteriorating over the past two months: she groans in her sleep, she wakes up at night, and sometimes she even stays awake instead of going back to sleep after nursing. This is the child who used to sleep ten or 11 hours straight! She was a much worse sleeper at six months old than she had been at three months old.
But I think I have a solution: her thumb!
All her life she has liked to suck her thumb -- starting even before she was born -- and in the last month she has really gotten into it! But at night she is unable to reach her thumb because she sleeps swaddled. We started doing this when she turned three months old because she began startling herself awake, and it really helped; she slept soundly for a month or two. But since she no longer sleeps soundly, I thought I would risk leaving her unswaddled to see if it stopped the groaning.
It does.
So when she groaned in her sleep, it was her subconscious calling out for her thumb, I theorize. At any rate, there are no more groans, and although it's too soon to draw any final conclusions, it seems like there is also going to be a lot less night waking -- perhaps because with her thumb, she can comfort herself back to sleep.
- - - - -
Why did she only groan at night? Why didn't she groan during her naps, when she was also swaddled? Why didn't she wake up and try to break out of her swaddling? That I don't know.
All I know is: all hail the thumb!
But I think I have a solution: her thumb!
All her life she has liked to suck her thumb -- starting even before she was born -- and in the last month she has really gotten into it! But at night she is unable to reach her thumb because she sleeps swaddled. We started doing this when she turned three months old because she began startling herself awake, and it really helped; she slept soundly for a month or two. But since she no longer sleeps soundly, I thought I would risk leaving her unswaddled to see if it stopped the groaning.
It does.
So when she groaned in her sleep, it was her subconscious calling out for her thumb, I theorize. At any rate, there are no more groans, and although it's too soon to draw any final conclusions, it seems like there is also going to be a lot less night waking -- perhaps because with her thumb, she can comfort herself back to sleep.
- - - - -
Why did she only groan at night? Why didn't she groan during her naps, when she was also swaddled? Why didn't she wake up and try to break out of her swaddling? That I don't know.
All I know is: all hail the thumb!
Ten
Guess who slept ten hours and 15 minutes straight last night?
No, not Isaac. He usually sleeps 11 hours at night. It was Laurel! It was her longest stretch of unbroken sleep since she was four months old. It's not her record -- at one point she regularly slept 11 hours without waking -- but it's a huge improvement over recent nights.
I don't want to declare success prematurely, since she's probably going to start getting her teeth next month, but I'm feeling optimistic.
- - - - -
Foods she's had so far: watered-down applesauce, rice cereal, banana, avocado, and sweet potato. Also developing: grabbing stuff and being scared of strange men. No interest in: movement of any sort, including rolling over.
No, not Isaac. He usually sleeps 11 hours at night. It was Laurel! It was her longest stretch of unbroken sleep since she was four months old. It's not her record -- at one point she regularly slept 11 hours without waking -- but it's a huge improvement over recent nights.
I don't want to declare success prematurely, since she's probably going to start getting her teeth next month, but I'm feeling optimistic.
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Foods she's had so far: watered-down applesauce, rice cereal, banana, avocado, and sweet potato. Also developing: grabbing stuff and being scared of strange men. No interest in: movement of any sort, including rolling over.
Friday, April 25, 2014
Truck drivers
Look, here comes a semi truck. Wait, who is that behind the wheel? Are those children?Oh, yes, it's Isaac and his second cousin Sophie (sister of Patrick). We met up at the Boardwalk in Santa Cruz today.
Each time I asked Isaac what his favorite part of the Boardwalk was, he gave a different answer, but there's a good chance it was the ride pictured here.
Uncles and aunts
We have been visiting my parents, and recently we went to a big family dinner at my maternal grandmother's house. After dinner there was a birthday cake for my uncle.
Isaac and I were outside on the deck when the cake was announced, and when he heard the news he hurried inside with excitement. I couldn't see what was happening, but I heard everyone singing "Happy Birthday" through the open door.
About five minutes later Isaac came back outside, empty-handed.
"Where's your cake?" I asked him.
He said quietly, "It turns out it was only for looking at."
Someone had been teasing him, and I could guess who: my uncle. I escorted Isaac back inside the house as I asked him, "Did you really think, after all that singing and people standing around, that we wouldn't eat it? Honey, cakes are always for eating."
Isaac repeated softly to himself, "Cakes are always for eating."
But even after he finished two pieces of cake (the second one courtesy of my mother), he was uncharacteristically quiet. I asked him what was wrong, and he said he was sad. I tried to explain that my uncle likes to tease, but Isaac still seemed confused. "I don't know why he said that," he finally said.
It wasn't until later that I began to understand why Isaac was so upset over a bit of harmless teasing. When we were in the car going home, he said, "I think the other people knew."
In retrospect he had figured out that everyone else knew the cake was for eating, and he felt bad about it. He was sad, and confused, and humiliated -- perhaps for the first time in his life.
- - - - -
After this emotional upset, I decided it was time Isaac learned to protect himself. So I taught him two simple lessons about family life: uncles tease; aunts don't listen.
He listened to this eagerly, and with what seemed like relief. To be sure he understood, I quizzed him afterward. It turned out he had drawn his own conclusions, because this discussion ensued:
Uh, no offense intended to the numerous lovely aunts who are kind enough to read this blog, and let me add that I lovingly include my own mother among the non-listeners. I also told Isaac that aunts are very nice people.
Also, please note that I have never suggested to Isaac that aunts argue -- he figured that one out on his own.
Isaac and I were outside on the deck when the cake was announced, and when he heard the news he hurried inside with excitement. I couldn't see what was happening, but I heard everyone singing "Happy Birthday" through the open door.
About five minutes later Isaac came back outside, empty-handed.
"Where's your cake?" I asked him.
He said quietly, "It turns out it was only for looking at."
Someone had been teasing him, and I could guess who: my uncle. I escorted Isaac back inside the house as I asked him, "Did you really think, after all that singing and people standing around, that we wouldn't eat it? Honey, cakes are always for eating."
Isaac repeated softly to himself, "Cakes are always for eating."
But even after he finished two pieces of cake (the second one courtesy of my mother), he was uncharacteristically quiet. I asked him what was wrong, and he said he was sad. I tried to explain that my uncle likes to tease, but Isaac still seemed confused. "I don't know why he said that," he finally said.
It wasn't until later that I began to understand why Isaac was so upset over a bit of harmless teasing. When we were in the car going home, he said, "I think the other people knew."
In retrospect he had figured out that everyone else knew the cake was for eating, and he felt bad about it. He was sad, and confused, and humiliated -- perhaps for the first time in his life.
- - - - -
After this emotional upset, I decided it was time Isaac learned to protect himself. So I taught him two simple lessons about family life: uncles tease; aunts don't listen.
He listened to this eagerly, and with what seemed like relief. To be sure he understood, I quizzed him afterward. It turned out he had drawn his own conclusions, because this discussion ensued:
Mama: So what do uncles do?
Isaac: Tease.
Mama: And should you pay any attention to them?
Isaac: No!
Mama: What do aunts do?
Isaac: Argue.
Mama: [laughs] Yeah, that's true! But also, they don't listen. What do aunts do?
Isaac: Talk.
Mama: [laughs again] Well, that's true too! In fact, maybe that's why they don't listen.
Uh, no offense intended to the numerous lovely aunts who are kind enough to read this blog, and let me add that I lovingly include my own mother among the non-listeners. I also told Isaac that aunts are very nice people.
Also, please note that I have never suggested to Isaac that aunts argue -- he figured that one out on his own.
Uncles and aunts II
"Read this," I said to my mother this morning, "and tell me if you think anyone will be offended."
She read it. "Yes," she said.
I didn't really believe her. But it turns out my uncles and aunts don't appreciate being teased any more than Isaac did.
I actually like my relatives a lot, which is why I show up at so many family gatherings, and I am truly sorry to have offended them. I didn't intend my blog post to be hurtful or mean-spirited. What I did intend was to be funny (which apparently didn't work out), and to document Isaac's growing understanding of his extended family.
When I was a diffident child it took me a while to learn how to deal with large groups of relatives, and I thought that Isaac, equally reserved in nature, would appreciate hearing some light-hearted advice. Thus I presented him with two unrelated "simple lessons about family life," most accurately summed up as (1) uncles tease children and (2) aunts talk to each other a lot.
These remarks weren't criticisms of specific people, just fond generalizations of the entire group. They were meant to be humorous, not judgmental. Do you remember going to big family gatherings as a child? When your aunts were talking to each other could you get a word in edgewise? I never could. And did your uncles ever say anything serious to you? Mine never did. Did you love your relatives anyway? I always did.
To be fair, things have gotten a lot better now that I'm an adult. My aunts are pretty good listeners, especially when they aren't in a big group, and I have even gotten good advice from an uncle or two. And after this misunderstanding, I hope they will all continue to speak to me.
- - - - -
Isaac doesn't mind if his aunts talk a lot or not, but he does mind being teased. What is the right way to teach him to deal with his teasing uncles? Surely it isn't fair to tell him to dismiss everything his uncles say?
So far we have taught Isaac to deal with direct attacks, like, for instance, when someone at his school called him "stupid." He is learning to say things like "That's not true!" or "You have that backward."
The problem with teasing, however, is that unlike a direct insult, Isaac usually doesn't recognize it, so he can't defend himself. At his age, it seemed safer to issue a blanket warning: watch out, because uncles like to tease.
Actually, Isaac doesn't enjoy even gentle teasing, as I am always discovering. After I accidentally hurt him several times, I reached an agreement with him about teasing: it is only allowed when both parties think it is fun. Whenever I do tease him, I telegraph it with an exaggerated facial expression, and I taught him to say "Stop!" as soon as he starts to feel bad or worried.
When he gets a little older, he'll be ready to deal with these conflicts more readily. Right now he just doesn't understand the motivation behind them, and continually asks why someone would want to call someone else stupid, or why someone would want to tease.
As soon as he figures out why, poor Laurel had better watch out.
She read it. "Yes," she said.
I didn't really believe her. But it turns out my uncles and aunts don't appreciate being teased any more than Isaac did.
I actually like my relatives a lot, which is why I show up at so many family gatherings, and I am truly sorry to have offended them. I didn't intend my blog post to be hurtful or mean-spirited. What I did intend was to be funny (which apparently didn't work out), and to document Isaac's growing understanding of his extended family.
When I was a diffident child it took me a while to learn how to deal with large groups of relatives, and I thought that Isaac, equally reserved in nature, would appreciate hearing some light-hearted advice. Thus I presented him with two unrelated "simple lessons about family life," most accurately summed up as (1) uncles tease children and (2) aunts talk to each other a lot.
These remarks weren't criticisms of specific people, just fond generalizations of the entire group. They were meant to be humorous, not judgmental. Do you remember going to big family gatherings as a child? When your aunts were talking to each other could you get a word in edgewise? I never could. And did your uncles ever say anything serious to you? Mine never did. Did you love your relatives anyway? I always did.
To be fair, things have gotten a lot better now that I'm an adult. My aunts are pretty good listeners, especially when they aren't in a big group, and I have even gotten good advice from an uncle or two. And after this misunderstanding, I hope they will all continue to speak to me.
- - - - -
Isaac doesn't mind if his aunts talk a lot or not, but he does mind being teased. What is the right way to teach him to deal with his teasing uncles? Surely it isn't fair to tell him to dismiss everything his uncles say?
So far we have taught Isaac to deal with direct attacks, like, for instance, when someone at his school called him "stupid." He is learning to say things like "That's not true!" or "You have that backward."
The problem with teasing, however, is that unlike a direct insult, Isaac usually doesn't recognize it, so he can't defend himself. At his age, it seemed safer to issue a blanket warning: watch out, because uncles like to tease.
Actually, Isaac doesn't enjoy even gentle teasing, as I am always discovering. After I accidentally hurt him several times, I reached an agreement with him about teasing: it is only allowed when both parties think it is fun. Whenever I do tease him, I telegraph it with an exaggerated facial expression, and I taught him to say "Stop!" as soon as he starts to feel bad or worried.
When he gets a little older, he'll be ready to deal with these conflicts more readily. Right now he just doesn't understand the motivation behind them, and continually asks why someone would want to call someone else stupid, or why someone would want to tease.
As soon as he figures out why, poor Laurel had better watch out.
Portrait
When the kids and I were visiting my parents last week, my mother remarked that I never posted any pictures of me with both kids. I told her that was because I took most of the pictures.So she took matters into her own hands. Two of us are smiling in this picture, which isn't bad.
It lacks the spontaneous charm and naturalism of this picture, however.
Seven months
It has been a busy month for Laurel. Looking back at last month's list of things she couldn't yet do, I can report that now she sits very steadily, she sleeps through the night about half the time, she eats solid foods, she has moved into her own crib in her own room, and she is beginning to babble.
Well, she babbled for a few days, but she now seems to be taking a break. (Same thing happened with the rolling over, you may recall: she did it for a few days back in June, but not since then.) Laurel began with "ga-ga," just like a stereotypical baby. She also says "ha" and something that sounds like "hi." But more recently she has chosen to shriek to express herself. She has always been a calm and quiet baby, but now she'll scream piercingly, especially when a desired (and usually forbidden) object is removed from her grasp.
Yes, she's become a grabber. Holding her on my lap while I sit at the table and eat has become a challenge: she wants to grab the napkin, the plate, the food. She likes to pick up stuff, the less toy-like the better, and then she likes to stick it in her mouth. She pulls hair, which isn't so nice, but she also wraps her arms around me in a rudimentary hug, which is wonderful. In general she is very handy with her hands. When she gets ahold of an item she doesn't drop it unless, of course, she wants to drop it -- then she holds it at arm's length and deliberately lets it go.
As I previously noted, her good sleeping resumed after we stopped swaddling her -- because then she could get to her thumb. She likes all her fingers, but she loves her thumb. When she gets sleepy her lower eyelids turn pink and she pops her thumb in her mouth. If her sleep is interrupted, like if she awakens when I set her down, she often finds her thumb and puts herself right back to sleep. We can sometimes hear her sucking her thumb through the baby monitor, so she puts herself back to sleep at other times as well. It is a miracle.*
Laurel keeps getting bigger, and so she has graduated to what they call a "convertible" car seat, meaning one that can eventually be turned to face forward when she gets big enough. At her last doctor's appointment she measured 26 and a half inches, just slightly too tall for the infant car seat with the bucket-style handle. So she moved into Isaac's old Britax Boulevard, which we installed rear-facing, and we bought a Britax Frontier for Isaac, which will eventually convert to a booster seat. Oh, the poor second child with the hand-me-downs, while the eldest child gets the shiny new stuff.
So Laurel is accomplishing a lot, but at seven months old she hasn't done everything yet: she still has no teeth, and as she still hates tummy time with the heat of a thousand suns, it shouldn't be surprising that she has shown no interest in crawling. That's okay. I haven't gotten around to childproofing yet.
- - - - -
* If I can hijack Laurel's birthday post to compare her to Isaac, to me this is the biggest practical difference between them: she isn't offended at the mere suggestion of sleep. When Laurel wakes up and finds herself alone in her crib, she doesn't mind. In fact, she often doesn't make any noise, so even with the baby monitor it can take a while for me to notice she's awake. On the other hand, I always knew as soon as Isaac woke up. It was like he thought, "Oh no, I've been sleeping! I never agreed to this outrage! Come here right now!" Then he cried furiously.
Laurel doesn't mind going to bed. On occasion I set her down awake, but more often I set her down after I've nursed her to sleep; sometimes she wakes up and looks at me, but she doesn't protest, and then she falls back asleep on her own. Isaac was the exact opposite of those dolls with eyes that open and close -- as soon as his sleeping self got horizontal and touched the mattress, his eyes popped wide open. Then he cried furiously. Even as a tiny baby Isaac fought sleep instead of embracing it. He never, ever fell asleep on his own.
But you know what? Isaac falls asleep by himself now. Since mid-May, when he was three years and eight months old, we have been able to tell him good night and leave the room and he falls asleep alone. I never thought it would happen.
Well, she babbled for a few days, but she now seems to be taking a break. (Same thing happened with the rolling over, you may recall: she did it for a few days back in June, but not since then.) Laurel began with "ga-ga," just like a stereotypical baby. She also says "ha" and something that sounds like "hi." But more recently she has chosen to shriek to express herself. She has always been a calm and quiet baby, but now she'll scream piercingly, especially when a desired (and usually forbidden) object is removed from her grasp.
Yes, she's become a grabber. Holding her on my lap while I sit at the table and eat has become a challenge: she wants to grab the napkin, the plate, the food. She likes to pick up stuff, the less toy-like the better, and then she likes to stick it in her mouth. She pulls hair, which isn't so nice, but she also wraps her arms around me in a rudimentary hug, which is wonderful. In general she is very handy with her hands. When she gets ahold of an item she doesn't drop it unless, of course, she wants to drop it -- then she holds it at arm's length and deliberately lets it go.
As I previously noted, her good sleeping resumed after we stopped swaddling her -- because then she could get to her thumb. She likes all her fingers, but she loves her thumb. When she gets sleepy her lower eyelids turn pink and she pops her thumb in her mouth. If her sleep is interrupted, like if she awakens when I set her down, she often finds her thumb and puts herself right back to sleep. We can sometimes hear her sucking her thumb through the baby monitor, so she puts herself back to sleep at other times as well. It is a miracle.*
Laurel keeps getting bigger, and so she has graduated to what they call a "convertible" car seat, meaning one that can eventually be turned to face forward when she gets big enough. At her last doctor's appointment she measured 26 and a half inches, just slightly too tall for the infant car seat with the bucket-style handle. So she moved into Isaac's old Britax Boulevard, which we installed rear-facing, and we bought a Britax Frontier for Isaac, which will eventually convert to a booster seat. Oh, the poor second child with the hand-me-downs, while the eldest child gets the shiny new stuff.
So Laurel is accomplishing a lot, but at seven months old she hasn't done everything yet: she still has no teeth, and as she still hates tummy time with the heat of a thousand suns, it shouldn't be surprising that she has shown no interest in crawling. That's okay. I haven't gotten around to childproofing yet.
- - - - -
* If I can hijack Laurel's birthday post to compare her to Isaac, to me this is the biggest practical difference between them: she isn't offended at the mere suggestion of sleep. When Laurel wakes up and finds herself alone in her crib, she doesn't mind. In fact, she often doesn't make any noise, so even with the baby monitor it can take a while for me to notice she's awake. On the other hand, I always knew as soon as Isaac woke up. It was like he thought, "Oh no, I've been sleeping! I never agreed to this outrage! Come here right now!" Then he cried furiously.
Laurel doesn't mind going to bed. On occasion I set her down awake, but more often I set her down after I've nursed her to sleep; sometimes she wakes up and looks at me, but she doesn't protest, and then she falls back asleep on her own. Isaac was the exact opposite of those dolls with eyes that open and close -- as soon as his sleeping self got horizontal and touched the mattress, his eyes popped wide open. Then he cried furiously. Even as a tiny baby Isaac fought sleep instead of embracing it. He never, ever fell asleep on his own.
But you know what? Isaac falls asleep by himself now. Since mid-May, when he was three years and eight months old, we have been able to tell him good night and leave the room and he falls asleep alone. I never thought it would happen.
Thursday, April 24, 2014
Sleep probability charts
Isaac at six months:
Laurel at six months:
Comparing these two sleep probability charts shows us that Laurel indeed slept longer at six months than Isaac did at the same age. Both kids were likely to be asleep at 8:30 p.m., but Isaac was likely to wake up at 6:30 a.m. while Laurel slept a whole hour later. Both kids had night wakings scattered randomly throughout the night, but I expect that Laurel's seven-month sleep probability chart will have fewer of them.
More than that, the charts reveals that Laurel had a more regular nap schedule. In Isaac's chart, that big light gray blur in the morning means that there was a 50% probability that he might have been asleep at any given time from 8:00 a.m. to 11:00 a.m., even though his morning nap only lasted 45 measly minutes. Meanwhile, his afternoon nap was completely unpredictable.
Laurel, on the other hand, had a morning nap represented by a tighter and darker stripe from 9:30 a.m. to 11:00 a.m. Her sleep patterns are easier to predict. Isaac didn't get that regular until he was eight months old.
If you want to see more probability charts, look right above these two charts and click on the links from the kids' names. It's interesting to see how things change over time: how newborn sleep runs on a 24-hour clock, how two naps consolidate into one, and how that one nap gradually vanishes completely. This is the legend, which uses a grayscale ranging from white to black to represent the probability of the child being asleep at any given time:
And, just for fun, here's what Isaac has been doing lately: this is his sleep probability chart from last month. Looking good, isn't it? Well, that paler stripe in the middle of the night represents the brief waking moment when he gets out of his bed and comes into his parents' bed.
Isaac at 46 months:
Weightless
Today we went into space. See how weightless we are?Actually, we only went to a space museum in Oakland.
I didn't time the jumping quite right, and unlike in real outer space, it was hard to get off the ground! Also for some reason I pointed at Isaac. But his hair looks like we are in zero gravity, and that's good enough.
Weightless II
And what did Laurel do with herself at the space museum while Isaac and I were jumping about? She hung out with her friend Sylvia.
Nursing history
Last month, when she was six months old, Laurel nursed an average of 80 minutes a day. When Isaac was six months old, he nursed an average of 187 minutes a day. That's a 42% difference! Isaac nursed 3.1 hours a day; Laurel nursed 1.3 hours a day. To think of it another way, I spent over 20 hours a week nursing Isaac, while nursing Laurel occupied a mere nine hours a week.
Why the huge difference?
Isaac actually nursed fewer times per day than Laurel does, but each session lasted much, much longer. I encouraged this. When he was born I was paranoid about plugged milk ducts, so I pushed him to completely empty both breasts each time. (Ironically, by doing this I increased production to the extent that I actually did have occasional problems with plugged ducts.)
Laurel nurses more frequently than Isaac did (although, unlike Isaac, she only nurses during the day!), but each session is brief. She usually only nurses on one side at a time, and even when I think she should be ravenous, like after 11 hours of sleep, she only nurses for five to seven minutes. Then she is done -- don't even bother offering, she wants no more, thank you! She doesn't seem to want to nurse for comfort or for recreation; once she is no longer hungry, she stops.
Breast-feeding is affected not only by appetite, however, but also by sleep! When I nursed Isaac I would let him linger, making sure to nurse him solidly to sleep before I dared to try to set him down for naps and at night. Not only does Laurel not want to linger, I don't need to be so careful in the first place; while she also nurses to sleep, thankfully she stays asleep when she is set down.
And, of course, with Laurel I don't have the luxury of sitting around all day nursing a dozing baby -- I simply need to get up out of the chair and take care of Isaac.
Is the difference in the way they nursed due to choices they made, because of variations in their temperament? Or is the difference in nursing due to choices I imposed upon them, for my own convenience? More than this, I wonder what effect the difference in nursing will have on them -- naturally every child varies when it comes to independence, attachment, security, and so forth, but will more or less time spent breast-feeding make a difference?
Or does the only thing that matters is that both kids are having their needs met, as different as these needs might be?
- - - - -
As a side note, I know some people find that breast-feeding helps them lose weight, but I think that with Isaac, my body actually held on to a few extra pounds to help it make all that milk. For me, less nursing has equaled more weight loss.
Why the huge difference?
Isaac actually nursed fewer times per day than Laurel does, but each session lasted much, much longer. I encouraged this. When he was born I was paranoid about plugged milk ducts, so I pushed him to completely empty both breasts each time. (Ironically, by doing this I increased production to the extent that I actually did have occasional problems with plugged ducts.)
Laurel nurses more frequently than Isaac did (although, unlike Isaac, she only nurses during the day!), but each session is brief. She usually only nurses on one side at a time, and even when I think she should be ravenous, like after 11 hours of sleep, she only nurses for five to seven minutes. Then she is done -- don't even bother offering, she wants no more, thank you! She doesn't seem to want to nurse for comfort or for recreation; once she is no longer hungry, she stops.
Breast-feeding is affected not only by appetite, however, but also by sleep! When I nursed Isaac I would let him linger, making sure to nurse him solidly to sleep before I dared to try to set him down for naps and at night. Not only does Laurel not want to linger, I don't need to be so careful in the first place; while she also nurses to sleep, thankfully she stays asleep when she is set down.
And, of course, with Laurel I don't have the luxury of sitting around all day nursing a dozing baby -- I simply need to get up out of the chair and take care of Isaac.
Is the difference in the way they nursed due to choices they made, because of variations in their temperament? Or is the difference in nursing due to choices I imposed upon them, for my own convenience? More than this, I wonder what effect the difference in nursing will have on them -- naturally every child varies when it comes to independence, attachment, security, and so forth, but will more or less time spent breast-feeding make a difference?
Or does the only thing that matters is that both kids are having their needs met, as different as these needs might be?
- - - - -
As a side note, I know some people find that breast-feeding helps them lose weight, but I think that with Isaac, my body actually held on to a few extra pounds to help it make all that milk. For me, less nursing has equaled more weight loss.
Mama
A few days ago Laurel began saying "Mmma! Mmma!"
Okay, okay, I know she isn't saying "Mama" at the age of seven months. Is she? But for some reason hearing that call through the baby monitor still brings me running. I can't help it.
When Isaac was seven months old, he said "Mmma! Mmma!" only when he was in distress. As is typical for Laurel, however, she sounds happy and good-natured when she wakes up and starts calling for me. Okay, yeah, she's not actually calling for me by name ... but it sounds like she is. And it's a thrill.
- - - - -
Actually, this development chart says that most eight-month-old babies can say "mama" and "dada," although they say them randomly to both parents.
Okay, okay, I know she isn't saying "Mama" at the age of seven months. Is she? But for some reason hearing that call through the baby monitor still brings me running. I can't help it.
When Isaac was seven months old, he said "Mmma! Mmma!" only when he was in distress. As is typical for Laurel, however, she sounds happy and good-natured when she wakes up and starts calling for me. Okay, yeah, she's not actually calling for me by name ... but it sounds like she is. And it's a thrill.
- - - - -
Actually, this development chart says that most eight-month-old babies can say "mama" and "dada," although they say them randomly to both parents.
Wednesday, April 23, 2014
Baby monitor serenade
I should mention that of all the sounds I hear coming through the baby monitor, the most touching is not Laurel calling "Mmma mmma." While that is indeed awesome, the absolute best is Isaac singing to Laurel.
Usually when Isaac and I hear Laurel waking up, we go together to get her from her crib. Sometimes, however, I can't go right away. In the mornings, for instance, when Isaac and I are awakened by Laurel's noises through the baby monitor, I pause to get dressed before going into her room, because she doesn't mind waiting a few minutes.
Sometimes, though, Isaac decides that Laurel needs company right away, and then he tells me he's going to go sing to her. When this happens I make sure to keep the baby monitor switched on, because I love to listen in.
Isaac has a few songs he considers to be Laurel's favorites. He usually starts with "To Market, To Market," then goes on to "Bobby Shafto" (although he sings a family variant, "Baby Shafto"). Both of these are songs I also like to sing to her, although recently of his own accord he's been including "Old King Cole" in his reperitoire.
Does Laurel enjoy the serenade? Oh, yes! She thinks it's the best thing in the world.
- - - - -
When Laurel was much younger and would cry needily for milk, Isaac would sometimes sing her a song that Craig had originally made up for Isaac. The lyrics go like this:
It was especially sweet to hear Isaac singing to Laurel what had once been his song.
Usually when Isaac and I hear Laurel waking up, we go together to get her from her crib. Sometimes, however, I can't go right away. In the mornings, for instance, when Isaac and I are awakened by Laurel's noises through the baby monitor, I pause to get dressed before going into her room, because she doesn't mind waiting a few minutes.
Sometimes, though, Isaac decides that Laurel needs company right away, and then he tells me he's going to go sing to her. When this happens I make sure to keep the baby monitor switched on, because I love to listen in.
Isaac has a few songs he considers to be Laurel's favorites. He usually starts with "To Market, To Market," then goes on to "Bobby Shafto" (although he sings a family variant, "Baby Shafto"). Both of these are songs I also like to sing to her, although recently of his own accord he's been including "Old King Cole" in his reperitoire.
Does Laurel enjoy the serenade? Oh, yes! She thinks it's the best thing in the world.
- - - - -
When Laurel was much younger and would cry needily for milk, Isaac would sometimes sing her a song that Craig had originally made up for Isaac. The lyrics go like this:
Milk is on the way, hey!
Milk is on the way
Don't worry, [insert baby's name]
Milk is on the way
Milk, milk, milk, milk
Milk, milk, milk, milk
It was especially sweet to hear Isaac singing to Laurel what had once been his song.
Picture
We went to a birthday party this weekend, and look what we got: our picture taken!The photographer got a big kick out of Laurel, so apparently she's going to give us a CD with many more pictures on it. We lucked out!
Eventually you will see more photos of us at this party added to the album, but I couldn't resist sharing this one right away. Look how cute and summery Laurel looks in that little red chair! (Not to mention in the awesome mod dress which was a gift from her Uncle Joel and Aunt-to-be Ashley!)
Sports round-up
Summer is drawing to a close, so it's time to take a look back at Isaac's summer activities: swimming and soccer.
The brief overview: he didn't want to enroll in either activity; when they started he hated them both; by the end he tolerated them both. Considering his dislike of organized activities, I hadn't hoped for anything better.
His attitude about soccer, as I wrote in my original post on the subject, showed great improvement as soon as I stopped sitting right on the sidelines. (And stopped nagging, threatening, and bribing!) In fact, on the day of the last soccer class we were picnicking with friends on the other side of the park. When I pointed out that the coach had arrived, Isaac jumped up and ran over to the playing field all by himself. I was very proud of him. He participated in almost everything that day, although eventually he did sit down on the sidelines while the other kids continued to play. (He was overheated, since I couldn't talk him out of wearing jeans and a long-sleeved black shirt despite the 85-degree heat.)
His attitude about swimming also improved. Before the lessons even began, Isaac said, "I just don't like this sort of thing." (I thought this showed remarkable personal insight.) During his first swimming lesson, Isaac cried continuously, wailing, "I don't like anything about this." But after his third lesson, when he voluntarily put his face in the water, he announced, "I like swimming better than soccer." This preference didn't last, however, because his teacher pushed him too hard, and he cried throughout the sixth and last lesson of the session.
What went wrong? The teacher had suggested that he jump off the diving board with her, and he got very upset. Even when we both told him he didn't have to do anything he didn't want to do, he was still upset. Poor kid. Ordinarily they wouldn't encourage such a beginning student to go off the diving board, but she had suggested it, I think, because it was clear that Isaac is fascinated by diving.
The swim school at which Isaac takes lessons also offers springboard diving lessons, and from the first moment he saw the divers, he was transfixed by them. His interest came as a complete surprise to me. I have seldom seen him so engrossed by anything, not even construction equipment! After every lesson we would watch the divers for a while, and then I would have to literally lead him away from the pool because he couldn't tear his eyes away to watch where he was going. One day I decided to stay as long as he wanted, figuring eventually he would get his fill, but after 45 minutes he still didn't want to leave.
Now that his preschool is about to start, will we continue to enroll him in sports? No, I think we'll take a break for a while, although I did sign him up for one last session of swimming. I didn't think six lessons would make enough of an impact, especially since he spent two of them in tears. He has a different teacher for this session, and the two lessons he has had with her went very well. I'm hoping to end Isaac's summer of sports on a positive note.
And what about the diving? Now that I'm writing about it, I realize I don't actually know why diving fascinates Isaac. Does he find it beautiful? Does he want to do it himself? Does he simply want to understand how it works? I'll ask him.
- - - - -
Edited 8/24/09 to add:
When asked, Isaac said, "I think diving is interesting. I like it for the same reason I like fire trucks."
I didn't find that particularly informative, so I asked him if he thought it was pretty to watch.
He said, "No, it's kind of cool."
I asked, "Do you like trying to figure out what the divers are doing with their bodies?"
To this leading question he merely answered "Yes."
The brief overview: he didn't want to enroll in either activity; when they started he hated them both; by the end he tolerated them both. Considering his dislike of organized activities, I hadn't hoped for anything better.
His attitude about soccer, as I wrote in my original post on the subject, showed great improvement as soon as I stopped sitting right on the sidelines. (And stopped nagging, threatening, and bribing!) In fact, on the day of the last soccer class we were picnicking with friends on the other side of the park. When I pointed out that the coach had arrived, Isaac jumped up and ran over to the playing field all by himself. I was very proud of him. He participated in almost everything that day, although eventually he did sit down on the sidelines while the other kids continued to play. (He was overheated, since I couldn't talk him out of wearing jeans and a long-sleeved black shirt despite the 85-degree heat.)
His attitude about swimming also improved. Before the lessons even began, Isaac said, "I just don't like this sort of thing." (I thought this showed remarkable personal insight.) During his first swimming lesson, Isaac cried continuously, wailing, "I don't like anything about this." But after his third lesson, when he voluntarily put his face in the water, he announced, "I like swimming better than soccer." This preference didn't last, however, because his teacher pushed him too hard, and he cried throughout the sixth and last lesson of the session.
What went wrong? The teacher had suggested that he jump off the diving board with her, and he got very upset. Even when we both told him he didn't have to do anything he didn't want to do, he was still upset. Poor kid. Ordinarily they wouldn't encourage such a beginning student to go off the diving board, but she had suggested it, I think, because it was clear that Isaac is fascinated by diving.
The swim school at which Isaac takes lessons also offers springboard diving lessons, and from the first moment he saw the divers, he was transfixed by them. His interest came as a complete surprise to me. I have seldom seen him so engrossed by anything, not even construction equipment! After every lesson we would watch the divers for a while, and then I would have to literally lead him away from the pool because he couldn't tear his eyes away to watch where he was going. One day I decided to stay as long as he wanted, figuring eventually he would get his fill, but after 45 minutes he still didn't want to leave.
Now that his preschool is about to start, will we continue to enroll him in sports? No, I think we'll take a break for a while, although I did sign him up for one last session of swimming. I didn't think six lessons would make enough of an impact, especially since he spent two of them in tears. He has a different teacher for this session, and the two lessons he has had with her went very well. I'm hoping to end Isaac's summer of sports on a positive note.
And what about the diving? Now that I'm writing about it, I realize I don't actually know why diving fascinates Isaac. Does he find it beautiful? Does he want to do it himself? Does he simply want to understand how it works? I'll ask him.
- - - - -
Edited 8/24/09 to add:
When asked, Isaac said, "I think diving is interesting. I like it for the same reason I like fire trucks."
I didn't find that particularly informative, so I asked him if he thought it was pretty to watch.
He said, "No, it's kind of cool."
I asked, "Do you like trying to figure out what the divers are doing with their bodies?"
To this leading question he merely answered "Yes."
Television time
Until very recently, Isaac hadn't watched any television or DVDs. He watched video clips on YouTube, but nothing else. (Well, and "The Pirates of Penzance.")
Two days ago we went to the library and I checked out a DVD for Isaac. Yesterday when I told him we were going to play together rather than watch the DVD, he said, "I like watching videos better, because I don't have to make things up myself. Only my eyes have to work."
How on earth did this happen?
Nearly two months ago I instituted "exercise time," as Isaac calls it. This means that during Laurel's first nap of the day, I hop on the treadmill for 30 minutes. I manage to do this about three times a week. At first Isaac played with his toys next to me, but then he realized I was watching "Perry Mason" on DVD as I huffed and puffed, and he began watching too. Unfortunately he found the show boring, so I had to switch to a DVD of the early seasons of "Sesame Street" that my sister gave us a few years ago.
This was fine for a while, but it turns out that watching an episode of "Sesame Street" straight through is difficult for Isaac. This surprised me, because usually he has a long attention span. But an episode of "Sesame Street" includes many separate segments on a variety of topics, and Isaac only wants to watch some of them. Watching a whole show goes against what he has learned by watching YouTube, which is that you never have to watch a video that isn't about your own specific enthusiasm. He is used to completely interactive and customized broadcasting. (In my day, sonny, you had no choice -- you watched the whole show and liked it. And we only had three channels!)
For a few weeks I tried to skip around to find the segments he preferred, since I need his cooperation for exercise time to work, but I finally got tired of trying to wield the remote control while I jogged. So that's why we went to the library and checked out a children's DVD devoted entirely to a topic Isaac enjoys: rescue vehicles.
This DVD has been an incredible success, at least as far as my exercise program goes. He loves watching it so much that now he always wants it to be exercise time, which means it's much harder for me to avoid exercising. Yes, I have to watch the incredibly corny show with him, but at least it has no product tie-ins, it's commercial-free, and it isn't trying to sell him anything.
Except that it has: it has sold him on watching television.
Two days ago we went to the library and I checked out a DVD for Isaac. Yesterday when I told him we were going to play together rather than watch the DVD, he said, "I like watching videos better, because I don't have to make things up myself. Only my eyes have to work."
How on earth did this happen?
Nearly two months ago I instituted "exercise time," as Isaac calls it. This means that during Laurel's first nap of the day, I hop on the treadmill for 30 minutes. I manage to do this about three times a week. At first Isaac played with his toys next to me, but then he realized I was watching "Perry Mason" on DVD as I huffed and puffed, and he began watching too. Unfortunately he found the show boring, so I had to switch to a DVD of the early seasons of "Sesame Street" that my sister gave us a few years ago.
This was fine for a while, but it turns out that watching an episode of "Sesame Street" straight through is difficult for Isaac. This surprised me, because usually he has a long attention span. But an episode of "Sesame Street" includes many separate segments on a variety of topics, and Isaac only wants to watch some of them. Watching a whole show goes against what he has learned by watching YouTube, which is that you never have to watch a video that isn't about your own specific enthusiasm. He is used to completely interactive and customized broadcasting. (In my day, sonny, you had no choice -- you watched the whole show and liked it. And we only had three channels!)
For a few weeks I tried to skip around to find the segments he preferred, since I need his cooperation for exercise time to work, but I finally got tired of trying to wield the remote control while I jogged. So that's why we went to the library and checked out a children's DVD devoted entirely to a topic Isaac enjoys: rescue vehicles.
This DVD has been an incredible success, at least as far as my exercise program goes. He loves watching it so much that now he always wants it to be exercise time, which means it's much harder for me to avoid exercising. Yes, I have to watch the incredibly corny show with him, but at least it has no product tie-ins, it's commercial-free, and it isn't trying to sell him anything.
Except that it has: it has sold him on watching television.
Resemblance II
Who does Laurel resemble? You may recall the post in which I tried to make the case that Laurel, at least when deep in thought or bemused, has an expression that resembles mine. Or perhaps you remember the post in which I revealed how Laurel got her middle name, which included a photo of her namesake, her great-grandmother. Or perhaps you simply concur with the general opinion that she looks like Craig. (One person even suggested that she looks like a cross between Craig and Isaac. I guess that leaves me out of the equation.)
But what about her late paternal grandmother, Doris? We only have a few pictures of her, and this is the only one of her as a young baby. What do you think?
Tuesday, April 22, 2014
Baptism
Here's Laurel after her baptism, which was held yesterday.People who know me in real life probably know that I am an atheist, but I am in a spiritually mixed marriage. Before Craig and I were even engaged, we had agreed to raise any children we might have as Christians.
So Craig and Isaac go to church once or twice a month. They attend what is called an "open and affirming" liberal Protestant church with a strong commitment to social justice, so I can't complain. (I checked with them right before Isaac was baptized, and they promised not to teach him that Mama is going to hell. In fact, the pastor said she wasn't sure she even believed in hell.)
So while I wasn't spiritually involved in Laurel's baptism, I was responsible for choosing her outfit. This vintage smocked cotton dress was a gift from our neighbors, who bought it at an antique store. I paired it with pink tights and white leather booties. She looked timeless and adorable.
Furthermore, she behaved like a champ. She sat through and enjoyed the entire service, especially the cello and string bass duet. (Meanwhile, Isaac got bored and I had to take him out to the nursery.) She didn't fuss when the pastor took her in his arms, nor when her hair was tousled with water. We benefited from her accommodating and curious nature.
And what was Laurel's favorite part of the day? Without a doubt, her shoes.
New pictures
I've got to get caught up with my photo uploads, because tomorrow is Isaac's fourth birthday! Do you think we might take a few pictures for the occasion? So here are a few new pictures added to the album. They date back to mid-July!
I love this one of Isaac engrossed in a book. He looks placid enough in this shot, but I took a whole series of him reading this book, and he has a wonderful range of dramatic expressions and gestures. When he "reads," he gets into it!
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