Isaac has been perfect at every age, but he's especially perfect now. Craig said this the other night, and I couldn't agree more. Two and a half seems to be the perfect age.
I had been saying how wonderful Isaac has been lately, how loving and curious and open and funny and eager to learn. I had also been saying how sad I was, because Isaac is bound to change soon, and then he'll be in some other stage I won't find quite as appealing. Then Craig pointed out that I'd been saying this ever since Isaac was a tiny baby! As he grows, I always expect I'm going to miss the stage he has just left, that I'll end up mourning some perfect past moment, and you know what? It hasn't happened yet. But it's bound to happen eventually -- isn't Isaac going to start going downhill soon? He can't keep getting more and more perfect, can he?
Here's an example of a stage I know I will miss. Isaac has been very affectionate his entire life, but his verbal expressions of love have become more frequent. The other night I was getting ready to put him to bed, and he decided to turn the tables. He had me lie down in his bed, and then he proceeded to tuck me in. He put his arms around me, rested his head next to mine on the pillow, and crooned, "Time for bed, my Mommity-mom." When I protested that I didn't want to go to bed, he said, "You have to go to bed. You can play more tomorrow." Then he tried to rock me a little bit, again saying soothingly, "Time for bed, my little Mommity-mom. Even when you make a mistake, I still love you."
He's not going to be doing that when he's 13, I know. I may not even hear him say "I love you" for ten years. I'm sure I'll miss hearing it, but even more I'll miss him thinking that I am so completely awesome! Right now we're a mutual adoration society. I guess that won't change for a few more years, right?
- - - - -
I feel didactic and obvious whenever I tell Isaac that we still love him even when he makes a mistake or does something wrong, but apparently it has made a positive impression on him. He's got some perfectionist tendencies, and he gets worried about making mistakes, so I know it's important for him to hear. This is also why I don't want to discipline him with techniques that could appear to be removal of my affection, like solitary time-outs or angry words.
- - - - -
Isaac became especially perfect when he was around 14 months old. Oh, sure, he was wonderful and perfect and adorable before then, but that was then my enjoyment of him reached a new height, and it has only grown since then. (This was also when he learned to walk and his naps consolidated into a single long afternoon nap -- perhaps not coincidental to my happiness.)
Wednesday, December 3, 2014
Happy boy
We've been visiting Isaac's paternal grandparents in South Carolina. Is Isaac enjoying the visit?This picture should answer that question. Doesn't he look like a happy boy?
The last time we were here was in December 2006, when Isaac was 15 months old. He had a terrible cold and wasn't very happy. Oh, we did have some fun then, but we're having even more fun this time.
We have visited the zoo, looked at beaver dams, toured Grandpa's golf course, played at two parks, and shopped at a toy store. Isaac has received almost more presents than I can list, including puzzles, art supplies, hiking boots decorated with light-up trucks, at least 20 little vehicles, and a tricycle. Every day Grandma has given him a cookie with a candy vehicle on top. And Grandpa let him steer the golf cart.
The highlight for Isaac, I think, has been the tricycle. He can't pedal it yet, but he's absolutely thrilled when we push him around the block on it.
- - - - -
Perhaps he's also happy because he has so many adoring family members under one roof. It's not often he gets a week straight of both Mama and Dad -- not to mention Grandma and Grandpa, uncles Dylan and Wade, and Wade's girlfriend Judy. There's a lot of attention to go around. We're lucky that everyone could come to visit at the same time!
- - - - -
Did you notice Isaac's new haircut? That's my handiwork. It ended up shorter than I had intended, but I'm pretty happy with it.
Better parenting through products
We've been home from South Carolina for a few days. The visit was fabulous, the flights were easy, everyone had a great time, and yet we are still relieved to be back home. Now I'm getting back into my regular routine, including blogging.
We managed to travel lighter than we did the last time we went to visit Isaac's grandparents. Instead of having nine items of luggage, this time we had only seven:
Our strategy was sound. We checked items 1-3 at the curb where the taxi dropped us off, checked item 4 at the door to the plane, and carried on items 5-7. Isaac is now dependable as an independent walker (meaning that he almost always walks in the direction in which we want him to walk) so often in the airport he ran on ahead, Craig pulled along item 5, and I pushed item 4 containing items 6 and 7. We felt like we were traveling so light, and Craig felt positively liberated at not having to lug item 3 onto the airplane! (More on that later.)
However, when we picked up items 1-3 at the baggage claim, we realized we have one more item than we have hands. Two adults can't simultaneously manage four wheeled suitcases (one containing the carseat) and a stroller. It didn't seem worth it to rent a luggage cart just to go across the street to the rental car bus, so we had to temporarily leave the carseat behind. Perhaps we should invest in a single larger suitcase, instead of two smaller suitcases, thereby combining items 1 and 2 and reducing our total luggage load to a manageable six items.
Speaking of investments, our traveling success was aided by the purchase of a few new products. We didn't need to bring a Pack N Play for Isaac to sleep in, because Craig's parents bought him a folding toddler cot. (Not that Isaac can even fit in a Pack N Play any more.) We didn't need to lug around the carseat, because we bought a wheeled carrying case for it. And we didn't need to bring the carseat onto the airplane for Isaac to sit in, because we bought him a harness that attaches to the airplane seat belt. (After the carseat-related injury to his knee that Craig suffered on an airplane this summer, these last two were, as he said, worth every penny.)
.
We managed to travel lighter than we did the last time we went to visit Isaac's grandparents. Instead of having nine items of luggage, this time we had only seven:
- one small suitcase (for me and Isaac)
- one small suitcase (for Craig, plus extra room for gifts from grandparents)
- one carseat
- one stroller
- one very small suitcase (for computers, cameras, and carry-on essentials)
- one backpack (for food, toys, and books)
- one diaper bag (in addition to holding diapers, it's my purse)
Our strategy was sound. We checked items 1-3 at the curb where the taxi dropped us off, checked item 4 at the door to the plane, and carried on items 5-7. Isaac is now dependable as an independent walker (meaning that he almost always walks in the direction in which we want him to walk) so often in the airport he ran on ahead, Craig pulled along item 5, and I pushed item 4 containing items 6 and 7. We felt like we were traveling so light, and Craig felt positively liberated at not having to lug item 3 onto the airplane! (More on that later.)
However, when we picked up items 1-3 at the baggage claim, we realized we have one more item than we have hands. Two adults can't simultaneously manage four wheeled suitcases (one containing the carseat) and a stroller. It didn't seem worth it to rent a luggage cart just to go across the street to the rental car bus, so we had to temporarily leave the carseat behind. Perhaps we should invest in a single larger suitcase, instead of two smaller suitcases, thereby combining items 1 and 2 and reducing our total luggage load to a manageable six items.
Speaking of investments, our traveling success was aided by the purchase of a few new products. We didn't need to bring a Pack N Play for Isaac to sleep in, because Craig's parents bought him a folding toddler cot. (Not that Isaac can even fit in a Pack N Play any more.) We didn't need to lug around the carseat, because we bought a wheeled carrying case for it. And we didn't need to bring the carseat onto the airplane for Isaac to sit in, because we bought him a harness that attaches to the airplane seat belt. (After the carseat-related injury to his knee that Craig suffered on an airplane this summer, these last two were, as he said, worth every penny.)
.
Marriage
Next weekend we're going to my cousin's wedding. When we told Isaac this, he said, "Don't know why people get married."
Craig explained that people get married when they decide they want to spend the rest of their lives together as a family. I said, "Like Oma is married to Opa, and Grandma is married to Grandpa, and Mama and Dad are married too."
Isaac said happily, "You're married to me!"
Craig said, "No, Mama and Dad are married, and you're our son. Together, we're a family."
Isaac pointed us out. "There's Daddy, and there's Mama. I like Mama best."
Craig and I exchanged a look.
Then Isaac continued. "Because Mama doesn't have whiskers."
- - - - -
Nice to know his affection for me has such a sound basis.
- - - - -
And Craig said it's almost enough to make him shave every day.
Craig explained that people get married when they decide they want to spend the rest of their lives together as a family. I said, "Like Oma is married to Opa, and Grandma is married to Grandpa, and Mama and Dad are married too."
Isaac said happily, "You're married to me!"
Craig said, "No, Mama and Dad are married, and you're our son. Together, we're a family."
Isaac pointed us out. "There's Daddy, and there's Mama. I like Mama best."
Craig and I exchanged a look.
Then Isaac continued. "Because Mama doesn't have whiskers."
- - - - -
Nice to know his affection for me has such a sound basis.
- - - - -
And Craig said it's almost enough to make him shave every day.
Tuesday, December 2, 2014
Mole number one
Like his mother (and unlike his father), Isaac is very fair-skinned. When he was born, there was absolutely nothing interrupting his pale skin -- no moles, freckles, or birthmarks. This isn't the case with his mother and father. Neither of us has freckles, but we have perhaps more than our fair share of moles, and Craig was even born with one on his forehead.
When Isaac was six weeks old, I asked his pediatrician when moles would appear, and the doctor said at two years of age. Well, now Isaac is two and a half, and I think he has his first mole. It's on the back of his left hand, almost on the wrist. It is a tiny, flat, light-brown freckle. It's pretty cute.
- - - - -
Apparently moles are present at birth in only about one in 100 people. Did you know that most moles develop by the time you're 20 years old, although more may appear during pregnancy, and that they last about 50 years before vanishing? Did you know that most people have between ten and 40 moles, and that having more than 50 moles means you're at greater risk of developing melanoma? Without even getting up off the couch to count, I can see that I have 36 moles on my arms alone! Yikes.
When Isaac was six weeks old, I asked his pediatrician when moles would appear, and the doctor said at two years of age. Well, now Isaac is two and a half, and I think he has his first mole. It's on the back of his left hand, almost on the wrist. It is a tiny, flat, light-brown freckle. It's pretty cute.
- - - - -
Apparently moles are present at birth in only about one in 100 people. Did you know that most moles develop by the time you're 20 years old, although more may appear during pregnancy, and that they last about 50 years before vanishing? Did you know that most people have between ten and 40 moles, and that having more than 50 moles means you're at greater risk of developing melanoma? Without even getting up off the couch to count, I can see that I have 36 moles on my arms alone! Yikes.
Red spots
"Don't know why they have red spots," Isaac said today.
I knew the last word, which sounded more like "tee-opps," wasn't actually "spots," but I couldn't understand what he was really saying. However, I thought I'd figure out the subject of the sentence first, so I asked, "Who has red spots?"
"Don't know why the tree service guys have red spots," he said.
I thought I had figured it out. I asked, "Did the tree service guys have red shirts? Are you saying shirts?"
"No," Isaac said. I was puzzled. The tree service guys had come on Friday while I was at work, so I didn't know what color their shirts were, but I also didn't have any idea what else of theirs might have been red. Chainsaws? Sawdust? Chippers? (I knew their trucks were green and yellow.)
"Try it again," I said. "What was red?"
"Spots," Isaac said.
"I'm sorry, honey," I said, "but I don't understand what you're saying." He tried a few more times, but he wasn't any clearer, and I had to keep telling him I didn't understand.
"Mama isn't listening," Isaac said. He sounded both sad and accusatory.
- - - - -
This total failure to communicate doesn't happen very often. Even when Isaac was much littler, we usually found a way to understand one another. (In fact, I can only find one other blog post about a communication breakdown -- and it was another situation where Isaac tried to tell me about something that happened while I wasn't present.)
We narrowly avoided a misunderstanding last night. Isaac kept asking me what the cow was saying, and I kept answering "moo." As he continued asking the exact same question, however, I began to realize that something was wrong. I finally answered in the form of a question: "Moo?"
Then he said, emphasizing each word, "What the yellow Beetle is saying?"
Ah. Not cow, but car. (A toy Volkswagen, to be precise.) It's a little awkward that he pronounces "car" exactly like "cow." Maybe we should teach him to say "automobile" and "bovine" instead.
- - - - -
It turned out, according to Craig, that the tree service guys had red straps to attach them to the trees to keep their hands free. Isaac did his best with "straps," considering he can't pronounce S at the beginning of a word, and he can't pronounce R at all.
I knew the last word, which sounded more like "tee-opps," wasn't actually "spots," but I couldn't understand what he was really saying. However, I thought I'd figure out the subject of the sentence first, so I asked, "Who has red spots?"
"Don't know why the tree service guys have red spots," he said.
I thought I had figured it out. I asked, "Did the tree service guys have red shirts? Are you saying shirts?"
"No," Isaac said. I was puzzled. The tree service guys had come on Friday while I was at work, so I didn't know what color their shirts were, but I also didn't have any idea what else of theirs might have been red. Chainsaws? Sawdust? Chippers? (I knew their trucks were green and yellow.)
"Try it again," I said. "What was red?"
"Spots," Isaac said.
"I'm sorry, honey," I said, "but I don't understand what you're saying." He tried a few more times, but he wasn't any clearer, and I had to keep telling him I didn't understand.
"Mama isn't listening," Isaac said. He sounded both sad and accusatory.
- - - - -
This total failure to communicate doesn't happen very often. Even when Isaac was much littler, we usually found a way to understand one another. (In fact, I can only find one other blog post about a communication breakdown -- and it was another situation where Isaac tried to tell me about something that happened while I wasn't present.)
We narrowly avoided a misunderstanding last night. Isaac kept asking me what the cow was saying, and I kept answering "moo." As he continued asking the exact same question, however, I began to realize that something was wrong. I finally answered in the form of a question: "Moo?"
Then he said, emphasizing each word, "What the yellow Beetle is saying?"
Ah. Not cow, but car. (A toy Volkswagen, to be precise.) It's a little awkward that he pronounces "car" exactly like "cow." Maybe we should teach him to say "automobile" and "bovine" instead.
- - - - -
It turned out, according to Craig, that the tree service guys had red straps to attach them to the trees to keep their hands free. Isaac did his best with "straps," considering he can't pronounce S at the beginning of a word, and he can't pronounce R at all.
Natural history lesson
"Come on, juncos!" Isaac says. "Eat those voles!"
We do seem to have a vole infestation in our yard, although the juncos are not going to be much help.
Isaac knows what birds do eat meat, however. "Great horned owls eat voles, skunks, and big monsters," he says.
- - - - -
Also, this might help: every night when we look out the window of his room just prior to pulling down the shade, Isaac says, "Good night, voles! Don't eat our plants!"
We do seem to have a vole infestation in our yard, although the juncos are not going to be much help.
Isaac knows what birds do eat meat, however. "Great horned owls eat voles, skunks, and big monsters," he says.
- - - - -
Also, this might help: every night when we look out the window of his room just prior to pulling down the shade, Isaac says, "Good night, voles! Don't eat our plants!"
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)