Food: A Whole Body Experience

E.T.

This morning while Noodle was happily pointing at the cat and hacking out her sound for “Cat” (“AC- ACK- ACK!”), I asked her to go get the truck. She looked at me, crawled over to the truck and brought it to me. Definitely serious neuron work going on in there, despite the alien communication skills.

Sunshine and Time

Today was the first afternoon in a while that we had unrushed time together as a family and the weather was brilliant. I met J and the kids at a park after work. Q ran around happily playing with children he'd never met before, with a happy, "Hi Mommy!" when he saw me.

Noodle has a new word, her first word outside of Dada, and spent the afternoon calling everything "Ack!" which is Noodle for "Cat!" You can tell it means Cat because it gets very animated and repetitive when she's near or pointing to a cat. Otherwise you'd think she had something caught in her throat.

She also indiscriminately calls many things Dada, but has clearly indicated the understanding of the word again and used it when he handed her a pacifier late one night. Very, very sweet.

When we got home after running errands, we had dinner on the patio, for the first time this spring. I'm going to brainstorm strategies to make this easier because it is simply so nice to eat outside, except for the lugging of high chairs, food, silverware, drinks, plateware, and children who need constant supervision.

Q is on spring vacation this week and you'd think he had a rigorous academic schedule by how much he seems to enjoy not being rushed out of the house at 8:50 each morning. Personally, I'm relieved that we're coming up with a plan for summer activities for him. Last summer he was a poster boy for 'Idle hands are the devil's playthings'. We're just not clever enough to keep a preschooler busy for months on end.

Today he declared with all the importance of a tiny Buddha (or Yoda) that "If upstairs was downstairs, then downstairs would be upstairs."

For those who would like an update on No Thank You bites, it does appear that I won that skirmish. He ate the exact same foods we fought over the following night, with barely an attempt for negotiating (and actually he ate the cheese toast with much gusto). The trick, it seems, is to remember his preschool teacher's recommendation that you offer the "less preferred" items first, then, after you are satisfied by the No Thank You bite, offer the food they'll actually eat.

Fruitless Battles

At preschool, the kids are trained to take 'No Thank You' bites. I need to investigate what level of cooperation my son is giving them regarding these bites.

This evening I gave Q a few peas (6) and some toasted cheese. These came at the end of the meal (they were finally ready) where he cleared off veggie sausage, pineapple, milk and perhaps something else I can't recall.

I told Q I expected him to eat a no thank you bite of each consisting of 3 peas and 1 actual bite of the cheese toast. He refused. I insisted. He refused. I insisted. He refused. I insisted.

So finally I left him at the table (kitchen has been cleaned, his sister fed and played with, I've had a cup of tea, and kept insisting he stay at the table) and took Noodle upstairs for her bath. I hear him dump his plate into the sink (a required chore) and he padded up the stairs.

"Did you eat your no thank you bite?"
"...No."

Ok. So what can I logically punish him with? This is beyond what I think is reasonable anyways (on the pick your battle front I have no idea why I am in the midst of this skirmish). So I inform him that I'm very disappointed in him. And that consequently tonight he can't use Noodle's bath water.

Yes, that's right, an actual and real punishment that sends him into a tantrum and even evokes a tear which wrenches my grumpy heart: he cannot use the bathwater used for his sister's bath. I don't know why it's so important to him, but he's made it clear in the past (you only make the mistake once) that he really wants to take a bath in her bathwater. Sometimes even with her in it, but usually after she's done. Got me why.

I believe I won the skirmish, but to be honest, I'm not sure.

Warmer Weather and Photo Catch Up

A few warm days have let us try out the Christmas gift from Grampa Lloyd (or Grampa Louie as he's known in preschool) and Granmary: a beautiful Radio Flyer wagon. Although the initial reaction seemed a bit lackluster, the kids are loving it. Today Noodle was humming as Q pulled her along (and this was after a meltdown). So Q pulled her down to see the horses down the street.

Noodle let out a piercing terrified scream upon seeing the horse. Not a pleasant surprise. She calmed down while I held her, but let's just say that's not where *she* wants to go for fun.

Below you can see how we came back, all up hill.


As you can see, Noodle now has four teeth.


And this is how she uses them:


But her most terrifying new potential was exhibited outside just this afternoon.

She can stand briefly without assistance, by which I mean for about the count of ten, rather than simply an alarming second or two. She had trouble getting the push toy to work outside (the lawn was too rough, but the street too smooth), but yesterday she surprised me by walking with it, unassisted, across the living room. She might get interested in walking again.

Snippets

Today I heard Noodle fussing as I was trying to pull together dinner for the kids. Q starts talking to her, and I leaned in to watch. He took her hands and started rocking back and forth with her, singing, "Row Row Row Your Boat" (a game I've played with them). Forgetting the words, he improvised his own as she laughed with delight.

Noodle often laughs on seeing someone she likes- especially Q. As she stood at the stair gate, banging it back and forth, she spotted him at the bottom of the stairs and kept laughing as he climbed all the way up.

The other night I was at a Preschool Forum and heard that at a year children know (can't say, but understand) about 100 words. Contemplating this, we figure Noodle must have 50 plus, right? But which words does she know?

Yesterday we looked at the bargain end of season clothes that J picked up at OshKosh outlets. One had a cat on it and I said, "Aw, a kitty!" Noodle, on my lap, points at Savannah (the mean cat).

We've tried little tests, "Noodle, get the hat!" She picks up the hat. "Noodle, get the book!" She picks up the hat. (The hat is new and exciting.) I'm sure she knows our names, but you couldn't tell by the way she responds to anything other than her own name. I think she knows what, "Come here!" means, but when you have a test subject who responds to a request when she has the whim, well, you get unreliable results.

Q has been genius good lately. He's set aside his acute interest in learning to read for the moment. Imaginative play seems to have taken its place. We listened to the trucks interacting with different voices, a normal Q saying, "Can you get out of the way?" Gruff voice, "No." Tiny voice responds for another truck explaining that he'd have to go around. Today he let me nap while he played trucks, for two hours. He's unreasonably good.

Easter Photos: Lessons

I decided that after months of chasing annoying plastic eggs around my house last year, I was going to learn my lesson. This Easter I was going to decorate real eggs and that Q would love to help. What I learned a little too late is that you should buy white eggs if you are going to dye them. Nonetheless. It was a fun project and Q loved it.


After finding the hidden eggs this morning, Q immediately wanted them hidden for another hunt. The second round Noodle got to help (she woke up). As you can see, she found one Q missed (in the other shoe) and is trying to get his attention.



Other lessons learned this weekend. I set Noodle down on the floor next to a sleepy J. When I came back, this is what I found:

It took a while to get the kleenex out of her mouth...

Her third tooth has emerged, but Number 4 is just under the gum next to it. She's a good sport, but having trouble falling asleep.

She's showing a strong appreciation for the people she likes. When she wants someone particular and they either come into the room, or pick her up, she laughs with delight. She's determined to get what - or who - she wants.

She's hard to resist.

Sweetness

Noodle is teething. Again. I thought it was simply tooth number 2 working its way up, but this evening I caught a glimpse of tooth number 3 on top. A corner has barely pushed its painful way through, and the rest lurks, or rather, bulges, under the surface.

She's not sleeping that well. Basically she wants to be held until she's absolutely exhausted. (sigh) But since there's been only one night with out and out screaming, I'm feeling less overwhelmed.

Tonight I pulled her out of her not-yet-bedtime crib and brought her upstairs, hoping that if I bribed her with yet more warm milk, she'd find sleep irresistible.

J was reading to Q about vehicles on our bed, so I joined them. After a few minutes, I realized that as Q chattered away, he was leaning his cheek into Noodle's soft copper hair. So sweet. Then he just blew me away.

"You are the bestest guwurl ever Noodle," he announced.

Sharing the Pain and the Glory

Lately (as in, twice before and again today) we have taken Q to a place called Kidz Kutz to get his hair cut. I know, just the name alone is enough reason not to go there. But they have 'vehicles' for kids to sit in while they get trimmed. And videos to watch. And tolerant hair stylists.

The first time, it worked marvelously well. The kid got a really good haircut and a lollypop. I avoided wielding a pair of scissors near my child's head while he screamed and flailed. I didn't even mind that he only whimpered for the stylist.

The second time didn't go as well. He seemed enthusiastic about the vehicles, but then once the trimming started, he began to wail and I had to hold his head still several times for her to whack back the foliage. Worse, his sister woke up and I was holding an unhappy Noodle on one hip, while bracing his head with my chin and arm.

He was due in for another cut, and I decided to beg J to take him in. Sometimes he behaves better if I'm not there. Sometimes. And, I figured at least if he (that is, J) had a traumatic time, he'd be sympathetic next time, even if he wanted to avoid it.

Didn't go so hot. J's words to describe it included: loud, crying, and fetal position.

They finally had J sit in a chair (not a vehicle), with a smock, then had Q sit in his lap, with a smock, and then they buzzed him. He did get different lengths on the sides and top (deliberately), and it looks great, but when I asked him about it he said, "Mommy, don't talk."

J and I agreed that after what would probably be a traumatic event, Q should get a trip somewhere special. I had a sudden stroke of genius and suggested the Chester Airport (see the plane?).

It was a huge hit.

Here's a better look at the haircut.

At the last moment he began bargaining for me to trim his hair at home, then for me to take him for the hair cut, so I bribed him with the job of helping J pick out sandwiches for us. This sweetened the deal enough to get him into the car without tears or lugging. And the happy result for me was an invitation to join them at the airport for a picnic. So I packed up the Noodle, who'd just woken up from a long lovely nap, and drove the 5 minutes to meet them.


It turns out that Noodle doesn't like sudden loud noises. A plane taking off nearly had her in hysterics. I apologized for not warning her. This was the second time in two days that she's been startled by a loud noise (the first by a neighbor's dog barking, only a foot or two away), and has responded with terrified screaming. She's so mellow most of the time that I forget that she can be surprised unpleasantly.

Alas, unlike the small airport of my childhood town, there does not seem to be a place to purchase ice cream while you watch the planes. Sorry Dad.

Report cards

Since Q flunked one of his physicals as a baby, I tend to view them as a report card. As such, Noodle passed with flying colors and great news. She’s gained two lbs and at nine months is now a whole (gasp) 15 lbs, 15.5 oz. That is, about 16 lbs for those of us who have trouble with English measurements. Still right on the same growth chart continuum: 10-25th%, right where she ought to be.

To put her size in perspective, speaking with a friend last night, I found out that her 4 month old son is nineteen pounds.

Her hemoglobin levels are fine so she can now drink whole milk. I’m stoked- no more formula! Also, since we don’t have food allergies, she’s been cleared for pretty much all soft food in cheerio sized chunks (except nuts and honey). So she’s been plunged into new foods immediately: pasta and veggie sausage with red sauce (I think the spice upset her once, I wasn’t thinking), and eggs, bananas (not mashed!), chopped up pear, and of course her cheerios. Dr also says things cooked with honey are fine, just no raw honey.

When stripped of the cumbersome jammies, she can crawl pretty fast now. She may even discard the notion that walking would be more effective for her goals.

Oh boy!

Noodle is happily chowing down on anything we give her these days. I actually took two photos of this- with two separate cheerios.

Several times I've gone in to get the wailing girl from her crib, only to discover she has managed to trap herself. Twice she was trying to stand and when she slipped, her legs stuck out between the rails of the crib, trapping her. This morning when I went to pick her up, she was flat on her back, holding onto the top rail, as if for dear life. A child who doesn't know how to let something go. I'm sure it's not genetic.

This weekend we did a brief tour of the town's Winter Carnival. Pretty much every town event is marked with a tractor parade. We didn't stay for the parade (I'm a wimp, I was cold), but Q scored big time.

To get an appreciation of the scale, here's another photo.


Q rapidly shifts from being a pesty big brother (poking, ramming, rolling, grabbing) to being an incredibly sweet and instructive big brother. Below is a rotten photo of him helping Noodle ride his trike. This is a pure Noodle grin, so I can't resist sharing.

Personally Noodle's 9 month mark has come with a sad end. Due to my own mistake of not asking enough questions, I am no longer nursing her, not even the twice a day which I was feeling was a slacker nursing strategy. After being told that the mini-pill wasn't effective enough birth control if I was only nursing twice a day, I switched to a regular dose pill. I wasn't paying close attention this week since Noodle was teething and failed to realize that my milk was drying up. When she hadn't nursed three days in a row, I finally figured out the problem. At this point only extreme intervention would reinstate my milk, and frankly, while I'm disappointed, I am not willing to take the necessary steps. So a choice in the end. I think I'd be more sad if she weren't a cuddly little baby, but comforting her has always been easy, and rarely has she asked to nurse for comfort.

This morning I whisked together some formula for her to suck down while I attempted to doze a few more minutes in bed with her. Upon seeing the bottle she actually chortled with delight. I think I can get over it.

Mobility

Noodle did it! She finally managed to figure out how to make forward progress in crawling this morning. Motivated by the possibility of snagging Q's markers, and freed from the hindering effects of her jammies, she managed to get her knees under her and push forward. Very satisfying.

Now we have to babyproof this place.

Nine Month Mark

Noodle turned nine months old today. She's been busy lately. Now she can:
Wave in response (When she feels like it);
Feed Mommy a cheerio (and herself, of course);
Stand on her own for approximately half a second;
Crawl backwards into tables (where she gets stuck and screams with frustration);
Asks to be picked up by lifting her arms when I say, "Up?";
Show off and run her tongue over her new tooth (tooth number two is playing coy); and
Clap her hands together where she then contemplates how the heck are they supposed to come apart to actually accomplish clapping.

She's still a remarkably good natured baby, when she isn't crabbing about crawling or the new tooth that hasn't come in yet. She's hit the stage where she's just plain old adorable almost all the time, amusing to watch, cuddly to hold, and able to get into trouble that wouldn't occur to me. (From her exersaucer the other day, she managed to dump a large quantity of papers and then snagged a photo of someone else's baby to gnaw on.)

Perhaps her absolutely most darling moment this week was when J came home a little late on Monday night. She was exhausted, but her gums were bothering her and she wanted to be held. When J came into the den where I was passively cuddling her to sleep, she looked up and saw Daddy. Holding her arms out, she did a clear 'up' request to him. So sweet. She fell asleep in his arms, safe and sound.

Breaking Things

My children are attempting to see how many consecutive nights one or both of them can wake me up. I'm not sure what the count is up to at this point, but I know I'm not winning.

The past two nights have been tough. Noodle finally persuaded me that if she insists that she needs to be held, she probably is actually in discomfort. So I've held her while dozing on the couch. This is not actually the same as sleep. Sleep gives you a glorious feeling of restedness. Or some similar word I used to know before I was so sleep deprived that I can only manage to whimper when my husband cracks jokes.

Today I brought the kids in to the doctor on a 'just in case' visit. They, and I, have a minor cold, to which I was attributing Noodle's unhappiness. Of course tomorrow we're getting on a plane, so we hit the doctor to make sure they don't have ear infections. (We'll let it remain a mystery whether I have one.)

Sitting and chatting with the doctor, I look down and right in front of my eyes, springs up Noodle's first tooth. I swear. Except I'm sleep deprived and seriously unreliable.

No ear infections. But at least one more burgeoning tooth in there.

Q is beside himself with excitement about the plane trip. He wanted to help me pack, which he did by sitting on the bed and looking at his transportation book and discussing different types of planes and other air transport. He would like to take a plane that lands on a river next time. We also discussed, briefly, tickets, which I realized are a fairly alien concept to a three year old.

He's now snuggled into bed, with visions of airplanes whizzing through his head. May we all rest well. Tomorrow will definitely be another big adventure.

Hard to keep up

Noodle is able to spin in circles on her stomach now. She's once again able to flip over, even both directions, but only when motivated. Otherwise she simply tells us she's ticked off. More importantly, she is absolutely thrilled because she can pull herself up to a standing position, if all the stars are aligned and she's right next to an object that allows her to pull up.

Q is making us blink and try not to make too big a deal about reading. He spelled out "d-o" for J and said "What is d-o? That's on Do Not Enter." The word 'book' is appearing everywhere now they he can sight read it.

Someone's Little Girl

Just said her first word.

Yesterday, after several days of babbling this, Noodle looked at J and said, "da-da."
Then she did it again. And again. Looking him dead on.

Now for those of you skeptics who say that a) she's babbling or b) she's entering the stage where she indiscriminately calls everyone and everything ma-ma and da-da, let me reassure you: I don't care. Her first word is Da-da and she said it yesterday for the first time at just over 8 months.

Snippets

Noodle has graduated to finger foods. Finally given access to cheerios, she scrabbled her fingers around on the tray, trying to pick one up. Finally, she gets one into her fist and crams it in her mouth, fingers flailing. Her hand departs and she looked at us bewildered. The cheerio is cheerfully stuck, perpendicular, on her lip.

She's become a little pro now, happily chasing cheerios and stars around her tray, muttering with effort, then cooing as they hit her mouth. Grandma Sherry pointed out that she hums as she eats, which, once you notice it, is quite amusing. Spoon it in, listen to the hum. Spoon it in, listen to the hum. You can tell when she needs another bite because she starts complaining, "Rah, rah, rah, RAH, RAH, RAH!" Spoon it in. "Hmmmm."

Sadly, the cheerio stage is seriously detrimental for my already weak housekeeping skills. There are cheerios everywhere. Since they stick to clothing (once licked at least), they can be carried like fleas into all corners of the house. Dried and stepped on, they result in tiny piles of cheerio sand. No one pile is that problematic, but the overall situation is out of hand, and unlikely to be addressed anytime soon.

On other fronts: Q relocated his wrench, left outside. Applying it to J's shop door, he declares, "I'm a good doer!"

And so he is. He's happily attempting to reassemble Excavator, taking pleasure in figuring out what part each metal shred once belonged to.

Alas, Poor Yorick

Excavator is Q's best friend, only slightly less beloved than Blankie. Excavator has been missing since November. At first I was convinced that Excavator was simply misplaced, perhaps at Grandma's in a closet. Or hiding under a couch. But as time passed, I became more and and more concerned. Excavator didn't reappear. I scoured the house. I scoured the cars. I asked at Preschool, just in case one of the Rules was broken and Excavator went somewhere other than Home, Cars and Grandma's. Nothing.

This afternoon I was thinking about Excavator again. We'd tried to replace him at Christmas, with the thought that if we did, the original Excavator would reappear. Sadly, Excavator was sold out at all the toy stores around. But today is lovely and we were playing outside. Perhaps Excavator was left in a garden bed with the mulch...

Then I spotted it, a small scrap of yellow metal. I bent down. It was part of toy. A metal construction toy. My eyes widened. More scraps appeared. I felt like I'd discovered a pet, its carcass now worn to the bone and scattered by wild animals. Excavator had been smashed and broken by the large machines used to chop up and rake the autumn leaves.


Q wanted me to post a photo of broken Excavator, but luckily for my aching heart, the camera is broken too.

We will replace Excavator. But I suspect that no replacement will be as beloved.
Good-bye Excavator. We loved you well.

Short and Boasty

Q cracked me up Tuesday. I could practically see the cogs working as he figured things out. He drew a cursive E on the dry erase board and told me it was a 3. I explained that E went the other way, but if he came over to where I was standing (it was on the floor) it *was* a 3. He alternated: “E!” “3!” a few times, then came to the side and said, “What is it from this side?”

I wasn’t paying attention.

“From this side it’s an M!”

I snapped to attention. “You’re right!”

And then he walked to the other side, “What is it from this side?” “What do you think?” “a W!”

He made a happy little hop of confidence and discovery.

I think we're about to see a big leap in abilities.

Sleep Deprived Parent Seeks Nyquil and Blackout Curtains

I regret to say that while the children have been adorable, there has been a serious sleep deficit lately. The more sleep I lose, the less I can recall. What I faintly recall from last weekend, is that they've been tag teaming me. As soon as one child seemed to be more or less (or not at all, actually) settled back into bed, the other one wailed from their room. After two nights of this, we went to visit the Massachusetts Grandparents. They kindly took the kids off our hands while we tried to recover some sleep. Noodle was seriously damaging her image as the happy-go-lucky baby, screaming and insisting that only Mommy would do. Finally she managed to poop, and magically turned lovely again. Photo here is, obviously, after her recovery.

So I'm losing memories faster than I can observe them, but this is a posting of the few bits I can still scrape together.

Noodle- at seven months old, she's still pretty limited in variety, but she's lovely to cuddle, and amusing to watch:

* Contemplating a pacifier, picks it up, considers it, tries to put it into her mouth, only to hit another pacifier. Clunk. She reconsiders the pacifier again, turns it a bit, tries again. Clunk.

* Sharing a bath with Q, slapping the water, then happily slapping the back and limbs of her brother when he lies down next to her.

* She can now unreliably sit up on her own, and looks absolutely delighted with herself.

* She reliably loves her Noodle Theme Song and will quiet down almost any time I sing it to her.

Q - He is CONSTANTLY TESTING US. I am gritting my teeth a lot. But I'm also really amazed by how much he's picking up on lately:

* Looking at a book ("Knuffle Bunny Too") asks if this is the motory. (Actual photo is of a rotary.) I point out the New York City skyline and tell him that's where his Uncle Ralph lives. He says, "And maybe Aunt Marilyn." They evidently made an acute impression on their visit last month.

* When J sat down at the other end of the blue couch, "That is not a good place to sit. You should sit here." Pats the spot next to himself.

* I put him to bed one night at his usual time, about 6:45. At 8, I went upstairs and spot a light on in his room. I assume he fell asleep with the light on, and slip in to turn it off. Bright eyed, he looks up at me from the Paddington Bear book he is reading, "Mommy will you read this to me?" I crack up and give up any notion that I am going to scold him. (Sneaking a book to read in bed at 3 years old seems pretty darn funny to me.) Since then I have bribed him with books on his sleepless nights, he's allowed to read in bed and I'll turn off the light when I come to bed later.

* He can now accurately sing the alphabet song, as long as you don't like the letter "E".

* He is writing his name fairly reliably- enough that we got a Christmas card from Preschool with his signature. Perhaps they've been practicing without mentioning it?

* Those are simple examples of his obsession with words and letters and numbers. He frequently asks questions such as, "What does sponge start with a-?" "And what comes after S?" And so on. Soon he's going to start asking about words I can't spell without writing down. The advent calendars have been advancing his understanding of double digits. Triple digits (seen in the index of his poetry book) still thwart him.

* I told him "I love you" the other day. He replies, "Yeah, you do."

We're bracing ourselves for Christmas. Last year, Q was rapidly overwhelmed by the holiday and we simply hid all but a few gifts and then parceled them out slowly over several days. I think he'll be a little calmer this year, but he can actually anticipate the holiday, which is definitely asking for a full blown Christmas Meltdown. Whether his or ours is yet to be seen.