tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-375581932024-03-13T04:44:33.321-07:00The Fur Mother<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2112/33/1600/furmother.jpg"><img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2112/33/320/furmother.jpg" border="0" /></a>
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Striving for fur parenting in a wire society.lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02417223386917662430noreply@blogger.comBlogger167125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37558193.post-38251015554210688972012-04-29T08:13:00.003-07:002012-04-29T08:13:48.857-07:00Spring Weekends at 5<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilXDVK5Ig8LCAwJyh4ok9bpegQMtLoDoMK-RVH5SitWxYwgyv4oXAIh0wN0S236IlcWHRSiegmmG5qpHt0Q1mdfPOrV9dBOlPK88BJT_N_1uTm3PCBQtjgYM8SWG4YBAUwbpNm4A/s1600/pretzel_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilXDVK5Ig8LCAwJyh4ok9bpegQMtLoDoMK-RVH5SitWxYwgyv4oXAIh0wN0S236IlcWHRSiegmmG5qpHt0Q1mdfPOrV9dBOlPK88BJT_N_1uTm3PCBQtjgYM8SWG4YBAUwbpNm4A/s400/pretzel_1.jpg" width="400" /></a>Last weekend was the first in possibly months in which one of us
parents didn't have to go in to work. We made the most of it on
Saturday. In the morning we drive to a nearby town and joined some of
Dad's coworkers' families for a tour of a small pretzel bakery. It was
modestly interesting, and Limelet got to try twisting some dough into a
classic pretzel shape. The event was perhaps a tiny bit long and dry for
small children, though. However, we got lots of photos of Limelet
posing in and around a giant pretzel in front of the building, so that
was all right.</div>
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For lunch we all met at a nearby restaurant, where everybody's children were more than patient with the grownup proceedings.
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After
the expedition dispersed and everyone left was the best part of the
day: we went back into town, got ice cream, and spent the afternoon at
the park. (I mourned the wasting of our lunch leftovers, but it couldn't be helped.)<br />
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We really need to procure some quarters and carry them around so we can buy duck food pellets, play video games at the arcade, and pay parking. In order of importance.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN3gushO9kgZ_ml0pNQadxjPORA_X_xp-PFcm5HMlT7wAZ-KPlVFGvZDntXvSjH_C1xNFEctMKO8zizMsWBtrHrk9ii7HNwDq4i6_FvzbMvA93VoF8XjQ6TmN8zOsLQPkBgtQDZg/s1600/lpark_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN3gushO9kgZ_ml0pNQadxjPORA_X_xp-PFcm5HMlT7wAZ-KPlVFGvZDntXvSjH_C1xNFEctMKO8zizMsWBtrHrk9ii7HNwDq4i6_FvzbMvA93VoF8XjQ6TmN8zOsLQPkBgtQDZg/s400/lpark_1.jpg" width="400" /></a>Initially we saw only a few ducklings, but as we passed again later there were several dozen against one pond wall, all queeping madly, and one lone mother duck trying to corral them all. Apparently she'd been roped into the job for the afternoon while the other duck parents escaped.<br />
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It really was a classic small-town America summer afternoon, complete with throwing stones from the railway track into the river.<br />
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Ray Bradbury would have approved, had he been there.<br />
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</div>lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02417223386917662430noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37558193.post-17450270733803995032012-03-16T08:42:00.003-07:002012-03-16T08:53:17.316-07:00The Unbearable Lightness of Being FiveThe past few nights, Limelet has been experiencing some anxiety. "Mama, I'm scared." "Oh, what are you scared about, Honey?" "I don't know!"<br /><br />Last night at bedtime he asked "Are we in real life? Is this real?" An exchange in which it came to light that he was feeling anxious about the nature of reality and our own existence. Great racking sobs' worth of existential angst. Pretty heavy stuff for someone who has just lost his first couple of teeth. <br /><br />I have focused on encouraging him to recognize his own reality by being in the moment in his own body: "You can feel your own breath going in and out, and your own heartbeat. You can feel the bedsheets touching your arms and legs. This is how you can know you are real."<br /><br />We had lots of hugging and snuggling and letting him cry, and telling him that I had similar bouts of fear as a child. I also called in Daddy so we could all be together and touching. When Jack weepingly explained that he was scared that we were not real, my husband looked at me wide-eyed, "Existential issues already?" He also let Limelet know had experienced these fears when little.<br /><br />We talked about the differences between real life and shows on TV, stories in books, and dreams. I also emphasized that even when we turn off the light and it's dark, everything is still there.<br /><br />It passed in about an hour, after which he was giddily relieved to feel okay again, and he wanted to laugh and make silly jokes. Which is pretty much what people do.lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02417223386917662430noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37558193.post-82457587070252050512010-10-04T17:12:00.001-07:002010-10-05T09:12:12.220-07:00The Big Kid<div style="TEXT-ALIGN: right"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOOaDpdxqZ88A69IT4dYbvV2ZXoNDh5z9NP0bxQ-FKtYS7-PMSg8d8sUcUvQxrRlJDA8VQKPTrZneXBBo4a7pVZsHSYZAkc6_Kzh8tW55OujkXEi3tq6ph-mUvQ-Awgk02gynxHA/s1600/birthday_cake_1.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524349563729452162" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOOaDpdxqZ88A69IT4dYbvV2ZXoNDh5z9NP0bxQ-FKtYS7-PMSg8d8sUcUvQxrRlJDA8VQKPTrZneXBBo4a7pVZsHSYZAkc6_Kzh8tW55OujkXEi3tq6ph-mUvQ-Awgk02gynxHA/s400/birthday_cake_1.JPG" /></a><br /></div><br /><br /><p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjVfEXu-L1V2gNAdY2XpyUX9W3stQcB32Z93DIkeD0LOhdkx9wm7dfdsnWrUVCYA0qYBc66FpPsy5UD8MSoctyfi-dOOBxMuOGWPl4Lfy5BYuBtSVAvz1DM8HZcYIkvTJeVmXtOA/s1600/birthday_cake_1-761895.JPG"><br /></a></p><p><br />Limelet really turned the corner developmentally in the past six months or so. I wonder about ethical issues in maintaining a blog about him as he gets older--sooner than we think, he'll have his own online identity; he's not "my baby" any more in that way (though of course he'll <i>always </i>be my baby!)<br /><br />His speech became suddenly more grown-up between spring and summer. He can tell and understand jokes involving word play now. He still uses "w" for both "r" and "l" sounds, but I've heard him trying them out. He now says "j" instead of "dz," too.<br /><br />Around the same time he got the potty thing down. That was a really big deal (for us at least). Now he has his own little potty, with his bookshelf next to it. I put that there after the night he carefully carried his potty into our library room so he'd have something to look at while going, which was both cute and pitiful. I think he got the idea from the Potty Power DVD, which shows children playing with toys and reading books on the potty. He also frequently sings the theme song: "I can do it myself, I'm a big kid now!" Very catchy tune, it was.<br /><br />Limelet's little friend--whom we'll call Olaf though that's not really his name--was visiting recently, and as they sat in small chairs happily having dinner and watching a cartoon, Limelet turned to his friend and said, "I love you, Olaf!" And Olaf replied, "I love you, too." It's so cute. In a year or two, they'll be too cool to be so affectionate, no doubt, so I'm enjoying this while I can.<br /><br />Limelet has the same territorial issues about sharing that his peers do (i.e. No one else should play with my toys! Sharing means <i>I</i> get to play with <i>your </i>toys!), but he has a generosity of spirit that I'm proud to see. For example, when other kids try to impress him or even shame him (which I've seen) with how much better a toy/drawing/whatever they have, he happily tells them that it's great! He loves their toy/drawing/whatever! He seems totally immune to the one-up, which is nice. It also means one less way for him to potentially feel bad about himself.<br /><br />As Limelet just turned four, he got a shiny new silver astronaut outfit, which he then wore for several days in a row. Happily, this coincided with Picture Day at day care, so I am looking forward to seeing the class photo with all the nicely turned out children--and one astronaut. Well, if you can't have formal portraits taken in your astronaut costume when you're four, then when can you?<br /><br />Limelet's birthday party went really well. I invited just a few kids from class after asking the teachers for the names of a few kids he plays with frequently, as well as Olaf, a couple neighbor children, and the hairdresser's kids. So we had maybe seven or eight all told, including a couple babies, but mostly kids his age. I made it a morning party and told parents to leave the kids in their pajamas, and I served breakfast. That went over pretty well, because if you don't have to dress the kids or feed them before you come over, it's a lot easier.<br /><br />I kept it as simple as I could and served items with little or no prep (though it always ends up more complicated than you think it will, even so). I served grapes and cut-up fruit, donut holes, brown-n-serve sausages, tater tots, coffee & tea, and milk & juice (of course). Well, I did make homemade cinnamon rolls, which are fiddly and time-consuming, but I made them ahead of time and froze before their second rise, then thawed them out the night before and just popped them in the oven that morning. </p><p>I also got about seven bales of straw (only about $3-4 each) and stacked them in the back yard so the kids would have something to climb on outside. And a few cans of silly string, naturally. And we have a swing on the apple tree. After breakfast they went out and played, and the parents wandered in and out to keep tabs on them. </p><p><br />I got a half-sheet cake from the grocery bakery with no decoration, and had the kids decorate it after they'd played outside for a while. First I had Limelet write his name on it (under the candy "HAPPY BIRTHDAY" I'd applied), then each child got to put on some sprinkles, or gel, or colored sugar. It actually looked pretty cool, and the kids had a great time doing it. And then eating the cake, of course.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheg_C-FOqHPUShwj-y5v0IUiHIfl-6uU85Eo3rcewD_MKV4IFW_gn8UlhgVZ1J3SlVaeLTzSYHE8ezcgpyt7XDSukQezz-1ygVziNXdfFn6GEgoGWC9d021bAuISj-9shInbjeMw/s1600/birthday_cake_2.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524349245500933890" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheg_C-FOqHPUShwj-y5v0IUiHIfl-6uU85Eo3rcewD_MKV4IFW_gn8UlhgVZ1J3SlVaeLTzSYHE8ezcgpyt7XDSukQezz-1ygVziNXdfFn6GEgoGWC9d021bAuISj-9shInbjeMw/s400/birthday_cake_2.JPG" /></a><br /></p>lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02417223386917662430noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37558193.post-44970159913530738082010-10-04T16:37:00.001-07:002010-10-05T08:01:16.709-07:00Fur Mother Explodes!<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr8Z3XiU8X0phvoUW0ZbslSstDD5on7eh1twUHMvwoT40j4Rhab8KUXGHFk0DK0hwGMRuaa-R3M5SirigKROw-AYzTEMhhdFOG39mci_dxSGLnMqSJArL7FdP4aE4_anml6FmSug/s1600/furmother_explodes-756214.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524339222270798882" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr8Z3XiU8X0phvoUW0ZbslSstDD5on7eh1twUHMvwoT40j4Rhab8KUXGHFk0DK0hwGMRuaa-R3M5SirigKROw-AYzTEMhhdFOG39mci_dxSGLnMqSJArL7FdP4aE4_anml6FmSug/s320/furmother_explodes-756214.JPG" /></a></p><p>Welp, looks like I better prepare for some company here at Furmother thanks to Nurse-and-Blogmeistress Debbie over at <a href="http://pehpweecare.blogspot.com/">Wee Care</a>!<br /><br /><br />Luckily I don't have to clean the bathroom and kitchen as I do when IRL company (or the landlord) is coming over, because we'd just have to be be outta luck with that today. </p><p> </p><p>**Update**</p><p>Okay, waitaminit. Turns out that although Wee Care did post a link yesterday, the source of most of my hits is actually a link posted by Kim over at <a href="http://inashoe.com/2010/10/beach-pics/">InAShoe</a>. Which, apparently, is still more popular than many "official" sites. So, go Kim! Looks like it was a fun beach trip.<br /><br /></p>lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02417223386917662430noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37558193.post-16757107073581784992010-05-04T17:56:00.001-07:002010-05-04T17:56:47.887-07:00Art, Hugs, and Reinforcements<div>Limelet's little friend from across the street moved away only a few weeks after they met. Luckily he moved not too far away--still walkable in nice weather at least; definitely driveable. Last night he and his mother stopped by for a surprise visit. Limelet was so delighted. They stayed for a couple of hours, and the boys had snacks of cheese, candy, half a twinkie each, and milkshakes (made by TheLimey). So a lot of health food, basically. They played pirates, legos, and turned on the sprinkler much to the surprise of the parents, who were sprinkled. At the end of the visit they gave each other a fervent hug as only nearly-four-year-olds can, and then another. It was beyond adorable.</div> <div> </div> <div>Limelet has suddenly begun making representational drawings. Where he used to ask us to draw certain objects, he's suddenly realized that he can draw them himself. Or he'll ask us to draw one, and then copy it. So far it's mostly rockets, cannonballs, and dynamite. But this bodes very well for the whole art thing that I plan to do with him. With as little pedantry as possible, of course.</div> <div> </div> <div>He's also taken really well to potty training now that the seal is broken, so to speak. He's started telling us when he needs to go, and then going on his own. The only thing I don't know how to deal with is how to stop giving him reinforcements after each "number 2" potty session!</div> lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02417223386917662430noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37558193.post-84698673788358314742010-04-25T07:45:00.001-07:002010-04-25T07:45:54.769-07:00Milestone. So There.I know parents are mocked for poo posts, but you know what? You never<br>know what a huge achievement pooping on the potty is until you try to<br>teach someone else to do it. I can't imagine that high school<br>graduation is any more exciting for parents than this is.lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02417223386917662430noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37558193.post-72236924379159293422010-04-17T17:09:00.001-07:002010-04-17T17:23:03.482-07:00Cheers and the Sad SongOn the corner of our block is a salon where TheLimey gets his hair cut. The stylist also coincidentally is American with an English husband and has small children, who are occasional playmates with Limelet. Yesterday Limelet wanted to stop at the salon to say hi, which we did. The little boy his age was there, and both got ring pops. A few minutes later I noticed that they were clinking candy rings with each other, saying "Cheers!" repeatedly. It was really funny--I don't know which one started it, though I know Limelet knows to cheers us when we're all drinking tea.<br /><br />This evening we decided to get out of the house and go to a small local coffee shop for a little while. Limelet got an ice cream cone and we had hot drinks. It turned out to be an open mic event, which was fine while no one was actually doing open mic. They played some dance music. But then a young woman got up to sing with a pianist. The song she sang was one of those sad soft-rock leave-taking kind of ballads with lots of swooping minor-key vocals. Limelet was initially completely hypnotized because he loves performers with microphones or instruments. But as the music became sadder, his face crumpled and he collapsed into into racking sobs over my lap. It was so pitiful. He could hardly breathe for sobbing. So we had to quick grab up all our stuff and escape. It took him some time to recover once outside, clinging to me and weeping brokenheartedly. "Well, at least we know he's not a psychopath," said my husband.<br /><br />Once home, I put a Wiggles tape on, just to counteract the sad music with some happy music. It seems to be working well.<br /><br />Darnit, I didn't get a chance to drink my hot cocoa, because it was still full when we had to go, and then it spilled on the bumpy sidewalks on the way home. I had only some dregs.lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02417223386917662430noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37558193.post-50932096519635439512010-04-13T10:33:00.001-07:002010-04-13T10:33:27.188-07:003...2...1... Aaaand We Have Literacy!<div>As of last week, Limelet can suddenly read three words. Well, two phrases, perhaps. "ZOO" and "THE END." Both gleaned from media, of course. </div> <div> </div> <div>"ZOO" he actually gets the whole letters/sounds concept and it happened rather suddenly. I pointed out the letters and their sounds in his favorite video game ("Putt-Putt Saves the Zoo") and he just got it, and now recognizes the word when he sees it anywhere. </div> <div> </div> <div>As for "THE END" I think he just recognizes the overall look of the phrase, especially in context. "TH" is a kind of hard letter combination to get initially.</div> <div> </div> <div>He loves for me to point out the letters in his name while sounding them out. I guess he recognizes his name, too, come to think of it. But mostly the first letter.</div> <div> </div> <div>So far, he doesn't recognize "bigfoot" but I'm sure it'll be any day now.</div> lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02417223386917662430noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37558193.post-52115599414863303562010-03-19T10:27:00.001-07:002010-03-22T08:34:02.881-07:00The Porch Pirates<div>The other day after daycare Limelet was playing on our front porch in the unaccustomed sunlight and warmth. He was pretending to be a pirate, the porch his ship, waving his little plastic sword and toy prosthetic hook, and having taken one shoe off to simulate a peg leg. "Avast!" he cried to all and sundry up and down the street. "Swab the deck me hearties!" and "Prepare to be boarded!" and "Ships ahoy!"<br /> <br />Across the street was a young mother with a little boy about Limelet's age, having their supper on the porch. "I'm a pirate!" Limelet shouted to them. After exchanging a few similar pleasantries, the other little boy wanted to come over, and the mother brought him over to visit. In seconds both boys were swarming our porch, each wearing only one shoe, pretending to be pirates piloting our porch. I invited the mother in for tea and Limelet showed the other boy the imaginary ropes. They attempted to sweet-talk a squirrel over from the next porch, played sword-fighting, and generally ran about like little banshees. It was cockle-warming.<br /> <br />Limelet was disconsolate when they left. I don't think he realizes the likely recurrent nature of the visit, since we haven't really had neighborhood friends to have over much previously. He kept looking out the bedroom window across the street and asking where his little friend was, and he sobbed for about half an hour that he didn't say "nice to meet you." (Luckily we saw them next morning in the street and he finallly got to say it.) Anyway, I think this will be a wonderful friend for Limelet and maybe even finally someone for me to have a chat with from time to time, which is so nice. But even without that, it's wonderful to see Limelet having such fun with another little boy.</div> <div> </div> <div>Last night he allowed me to put his training pants on him for overnight instead of diapers, although he's been staying dry at night for ages. He stayed dry, except for some milk that spilled on him when he was trying to have a midnight drink. After I changed all his clothes, he realized that he had to go potty, so we went, and he continued dry the rest of the night. I was about to have him wear them to daycare, but he did have a small accident just before we left, so I think he doesn't feel ready for that yet.</div> <div> </div> <div>This is the 6th night since the goshblanged fritillary blooping daylight-savings time change, and as always it has completely disrupted the entire household, every day, all day, all night. Home, work, and daycare. We haven't had one night of decent sleep in a week. Mostly we've all been awake from 2-5 am, more or less, often 6 am. As always, I hate the time change and wish it would die a horrible lingering yet instant death, somehow. However it is that abstract concepts die. I wish it could suffer as I have suffered.</div>lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02417223386917662430noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37558193.post-49064097019176375622010-02-23T19:29:00.001-08:002010-02-23T19:29:47.410-08:00Tragedy / Comedy<div>(Cross-posted)</div> <div> </div> <div>The other day Limelet was in a rare mood of hyperness. He galloped over to his Lego box and tore the lid off, throwing it across the floor to crash noisily on the opposite wall. TheLimey and I both shouted "Limelet!"* at once. He looked cowed. TheLimey prompted him: "What do you say?" expecting a brief "Sorry." </div> <div> </div> <div>Instead Limelet answered, "Thank you." TheLimey and I stared at each other, paralyzed with equal parts horror and mirth. Before we could correct his misapprehension, he continued, "Thank you for shouting."</div> <div> </div> <div>It was such a smartass thing to say--if he meant it that way, which I'm sure he didn't--that it was really funny. At the same time, it was so pathetic that it was mortifying. "Please sir, may I have another?"</div> <div> </div> <div>With our genes, it'll only be another six months or so before he says stuff like that and means it.</div> <div> </div> <div> </div> <div>*Not his real name. I hope this is obvious.</div> <div> </div> <div> </div> lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02417223386917662430noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37558193.post-58284035491153423552010-01-04T11:48:00.001-08:002010-01-04T17:52:55.214-08:00The Depths!Yes, my need to find a social outlet has led me to new depths. I actually posted on the local Mensa Yahoo group site to ask if there were any parents of young children, in case they might want to arrange child-friendly activities together.<br /><br />Of course, the first thing that happened was that a couple someones pounced and tried to recruit me to do some kind of program coordination for gifted children, or some dang thing. You know, I'm new in the area (practically speaking, anyway) and all I want is to have a dinner/playdate etc. with some other people who have children, too. I'm not looking to groom my poor kid into a genius--whatever that even means. Nor am I currently interested in focusing on the possibility of his potential giftedness. And that's not even what I asked for in the post! <br /><br />Anybody who with little provocation immediately tells me their kid is gifted...it seems like they're compensating for something or other. I just want Limelet to have friends and have fun! Oh, and us, too. (Although TheLimey has friends through work, of course, I don't know of any with young children.) <br /><br />If Limelet does turn out to be "gifted," then we'll deal with that at such time as it becomes a meaningful issue. Right now I'm more concerned with social development and happiness. His and mine! His intelligence is being nurtured just fine, thank you very much.<br /><br />I should have known. Well, I have other potential groups.lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02417223386917662430noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37558193.post-55944745659784011112009-11-30T14:13:00.001-08:002009-11-30T14:13:59.902-08:00jump_5<div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/doctorlizardo/4145541199/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2795/4145541199_0860689d38_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /></a><br /><span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/doctorlizardo/4145541199/">jump_5</a><br />Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/doctorlizardo/">doctorlizardo</a></span></div><br clear="all" />lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02417223386917662430noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37558193.post-79869401453143864812009-11-17T12:26:00.001-08:002009-11-17T12:26:56.353-08:00Music<div>Limelet has become smitten with performing music of any kind. His main musical idol is Raffi, and he uses a tennis racket to pretend he's playing along with the Raffi concert video. He also does all the bows, dancing, and hand motions, as well as copying Raffi's banter with the audience. Limelet played with a child-sized guitar at a party the other evening. He was completely enchanted by it, and wept heartbrokenly about leaving it all the trip home. We're getting him one for Christmas. In an odd coincidence, we found a little toy drum set placed out at the curb for trash on the way home. He's been playing it with chopsticks, and of course wanted to take it to bed. (For once I said no!) He also has been playing his little keyboard (garage sale) and "playing" the microphone. </div> <div> </div> <div>I wonder which thing(s) he'll settle down to?</div> lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02417223386917662430noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37558193.post-72020733696347140272009-11-11T17:36:00.000-08:002009-11-11T17:37:12.921-08:00Ages<div><br clear="all">It's been ages since I last blogged, and I don't even really have any pressing excuse. It just seems to take forever to do all the endless lists of stuff that I've been saving up to do "when I'm done with my PhD." And daily home maintenance takes forever, too, though you wouldn't know it to look at my house.</div> <div> </div> <div>Anyway, we took Limelet to the Adventure Farm last weekend, which is the last weekend it's open for the season. He loves it, especially the conveyor belts that feed the goats, the fuzzy chicks, the giant trampoline-pillow things, the fries, the water pumps, the...anyway. We like it, too. It's big enough to be interesting, but small enough not to be overwhelming.</div> <div> </div> <div>Limelet is doing really well. He actually likes daycare now, and yesterday when I dropped him off he smiled and blew me a kiss. He's also become much more outgoing with others. At the park the other day he asked a slightly bigger boy if he wanted to go down the slide together, and started a conversation about the giant slide at the Adventure Farm. </div> <div>We both have our (regular) flu shots now, which is good (Daddy still needs his). Limelet asked the nurse if she was going to give him a shot--he was excited about it. I tried to warn him that it might hurt, but he was still a little taken aback by the ouch. Nevertheless he was very brave, and then at bathtime gave Daddy and me scores of "shots" and insisted that we say "ow" and otherwise act like it hurt. </div> <div> </div> <div>Guess it's a good thing I got him a doctor coat and kit awaiting for Christmas, although he still wears his firefighter outfit every. single. day. At least now he wears the nice shiny and sturdy new one I got him instead of the flimsy, hole-ridden one with the buckles falling off that he'd been wearing for months. It took Halloween to get him to wear the new one, but now he likes it. Limelet's such a big boy now, not even very toddler-like anymore. He's moved on from using the term "ducka" to "construction vehicle," though I don't know exactly when that happened. </div> <div> </div> <div>His mood has also been very good generally, and even his sleep isn't too bad since we gave up on trying to get him to sleep earlier than 10. If it wasn't for that bloody late two-hour-long nap at daycare, we could do it, but it just won't work with that nap. This means that we never have even the hope of an hour or two to ourselves. However, it also means that he won't wake up for four hours in the middle of the night, and then have a screwed-up sleep schedule for three or four days, to be repeated ad infinitum. We just all go to bed at 10 (we usually read after he sleeps, if only for a few minutes), and then all wake at 6:30 or 7:00.</div> <div> </div> <div>His eating habits are as strange as ours. He loves sardines and cous cous, but doesn't particularly like peanut-butter sandwiches. Figures. The other day when I picked him up from daycare I brought him a hot homemade whole-wheat waffle and a sippy cup of herbal tea to have on the ride home. He loved it. He also always wants his own tea when we have ours, so I usually make him some decaf.</div> lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02417223386917662430noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37558193.post-10861966830310397582009-09-18T05:46:00.001-07:002009-09-18T05:46:56.030-07:00Now We Are Three<div>Limelet is three today! We will do his birthday stuff tomorrow (balloon store, presents, cake) as it will be Saturday, but we did get cupcakes for his daycare class today. It turns out that his little "best friend" in class has a birthday the day before his.</div> <div> </div> <div>Limelet definitely speaks two languages now: English <em>and</em> American. The other day I was in the kitchen with him and he told me he wanted to peel a buh-neah-nuh. Then TheLimey walked in and Limelet told him he wanted to peel a buh-- he stopped himself-- a bih-nah-nah. He also sometimes drops his terminal r's on words and not at other times, depending who he's talking to.</div> <div> </div> <div>After three weeks of trying the earlier bedtime of 9 or even 9:30, last night we gave up and went back to 10-ish. If Limelet wasn't getting that bloody two-hour nap (and so late in the day!) at daycare, I'm certain we could do it. But that nap just tips it. </div> <div> </div> <div>If he goes to bed even as early as 9:30, it's just too early--Limelet wakes after just one sleep cycle and then stays awake for 3-4 hours. That usually means he goes to sleep at 9-9:30, then wakes up at 1-2am, struggles to go back to sleep for an hour, an hour and a half (he really tries--just can't close the deal), then he's simply broad awake until 5 am. And therefore so am I. It's exhausting It's also meant that TheLimey has had to go sleep in the office just to be able to get to work, because he can't be going to sleep at 5 am and getting up for work at 6. It really ruins the entire day to for me and Limelet be up the entire night, and has a ripple effect into the next several days. It messes with his daycare attendance, wioth my routine (such as it is), and everything.</div> <div> </div> <div>It's maddening, because everything else about the daycare is really great. Except that they're <em>ruining our lives</em> with this frikkin' naptime!</div> lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02417223386917662430noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37558193.post-31465027416908506842009-09-09T14:03:00.001-07:002009-09-09T14:03:38.610-07:00Big Boy<div><br clear="all">Yesterday when Limelet went potty, he stood up! Just like that. Apparently they've already taught him in day care. I didn't know they'd be that throrough, but--it's working.</div> <div>In other news, he's sick (home yesterday and today with congestion and fever), so his dental procedure for tomorrow has been canceled. Rescheduled, rather. I really wanted it over with, but it can't be helped.</div> lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02417223386917662430noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37558193.post-29261102302227372902009-09-03T13:08:00.000-07:002009-09-03T13:09:12.344-07:00Verbaltude<div>Limelet seems to be undergoing a verbal development spurt. This week. He's suddenly started sounding a lot more grown-up in his speech, though I think some of the things he's yoinked from daycare "teachers," or us, or even videos. But ya gotta start with something, right? He says things that make us, his parents, look at one another in perplexity (<em>Where did he get</em> that <em>phrase? We don't say it!</em>) </div> <div> </div> <div>The other day we heard that he told another child "stop your tears." ??!! It has to be something his teacher says, as neither of us says that. The daycare teacher told us about it with pride, as evidence of his growing confidence with other children. Well, we don't want him to be downright <em>mean</em>! I hope he wasn't too mean. </div> <div> </div> <div>He's also suddenly started asking "why?" about everything all of a sudden--I don't think he really knows what <em>why</em> means, but he gets that it evokes a response about whatever we're discussing. And he says it with such feeling. For example, TheLimey and I were discussing the tuna roll I had just made for dinner. Limelet: "Tuna roll? <em>Whyyyy</em>?" It was pretty hilarious. Finally, the other day he spouted back something I've said occasionally for years without even thinking about it. "Mama, I want da other nursie. Dis one's tapped out." I couldn't stop laughing. My laughter made Limelet laugh while nursing, which was also funny.</div> lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02417223386917662430noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37558193.post-14655352560754191032009-07-29T13:33:00.001-07:002009-07-29T13:33:30.634-07:00Oh Yeah...It's Potty Time<div>Limelet has been peeing on the potty several times a day most days now and is usually dry overnight. I was going to use that one-day method of potty training that uses positive reinforcement, but he's just grown into it himself before I got around to it. The one thing I did do right was to scuttle his kid-potty and get a wide, stable footstool for use on the big-people potty. He just did not want to use that little plastic one, especially since the potties at daycare are normal toilets (though a bit small). He climbs right up and sits down. It's very cute. He even did a poop on the potty for Daddy last weekend, while I was napping. Yay Limelet!</div> <div> </div> <div>Basically, this means that when he ages out of diapers we'll be starting a whole new diaper cycle with the new one, for about a 6-year-long stint of diaper changing.</div> lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02417223386917662430noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37558193.post-87210786132754967152009-07-28T12:42:00.001-07:002009-07-28T12:42:29.142-07:00Beach<div>We finally got a chance to take Limelet to a beach over the weekend. I found a state park that's about an hour away. It's the first long-ish car trip he's been on in....I don't know; a really long time, anyway. Well, Limelet absolutely <em>loved</em> the beach. There was a thunderstorm in the afternoon, but at least we got in a good long morning of digging in the sand and paddling in the water. He was really upset to leave, of course. I can't wait to take him again.</div> <div> </div> <div>Limelet is thriving in his new classroom. He likes his teachers and talks to them spontaneously (I've seen it), and goes readily to them in the morning when I drop him off. It's just a way better situation. Limelet now discerns between cumulus and cirrus clouds (learned in daycare), and sings little songs that I have to look up online to figure out what they are. They have the same super-late, super-long naptime as the rest of the center (1-3pm), so he just doesn't go to sleep until 10pm. It's ridiculous, I know. But if we put him to bed earlier, he's awake from 2-5am, which is way worse.</div> <div> </div> <div>When we were at the state park, there was a woman there with three children ranging in age from maybe 4 to 10. We first started noticing her when her daughter was playing in the sand with Limelet. They were happily pouring water into sandy holes near the water's edge, when the mother started closely directing into exactly which hole her daughter should pour the water, and in what manner. "No, not <em>that</em> one--the <em>other</em> one. No--<em>inside</em> the hole!" <em>Geez</em>, I thought, <em>here come anxiety disorders galore for this child</em>. Moments later, the mother started badgering her about how her tummy looked, and asking whether she had just eaten a lot of food or something. I tell you, this kid was a skinny-to-normal <em>four-year-old</em> kid (and very cute). The mother was quite heavy, so it was no leap of imagination to see her dumping her own anxieties all over the daughter. <em>Here comes the disordered eating, too</em>, I mentally added. </div> <div> </div> <div>She continued to loudly harangue, micro-manage, and viciously nag her kids, especially singling out the daughter and one of the two boys for whatever reason. (Nice vacation for them, huh?) This culminated shortly before we left, when she screamed at her son, who did not want to go near a busy nest of massive hornets at one end of the beach. She wanted him to get something or cross that area for some reason; I don't know. What she shrieked was "If you don't get over there <em>right now</em> I am going to pull down your pants and spank you in front of the entire beach for being a sissy about some bees!" And then as an aside to me muttered that it was as if a monster was going to jump out of the beach and bite him. Well, it was--it just wasn't the hornets.</div> <div> </div> <div>I just don't get how someone can think that's even <em>close</em> to okay to say to their kids at ALL, let alone imagine that it's okay to scream it in public. I know we all lose our tempers sometimes, but this wasn't losing her temper--this was <em>hours</em> of just miserable, wretched nagging.</div> lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02417223386917662430noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37558193.post-58105720946658470582009-07-07T07:53:00.001-07:002009-07-07T07:53:10.075-07:00Happy<div>Limelet is doing much, much better in his new class. Several times now he has smiled as he waved bye-bye to me in the morning, which has never <em>never</em> happened before. He does still cling to me and then to Mr. Luke (usually) or Ms. Sarah (sometimes) when I hand him over. But he seems much happier. He's also started interacting with other kids in public (like at the park) a lot more.</div> <div> </div> <div> <div>This morning when I dropped him at daycare, the class was outside in the little playground area, and some of the children were playing with a big plastic baseball and bat. Instead of clinging to me as usual, he said, "They're playing baseball. I want to play baseball!" And he actually wriggled out of my arms and ran off with barely a goodbye. This would have been unimaginable even a month or so ago. I'm so relieved.</div> </div> <div> </div> <div>Over the weekend we visited a new park and Limelet played with a little boy who was perhaps a year older. Now in the way of most older children, this other boy was bossing Limelet around, which Limelet was mostly ignoring. The other boy showed him a pile of wood chips that he was using to "make a pizza," and Limelet obliviously pushed the entire pile off the little ledge onto the ground. The other boy got upset. Not terribly, but in the way of "hey, you're ruining it!" I translated to Limelet that the older boy was trying to make a stick pizza, and suggested that he help him get some more sticks. Limelet became concerned that the other boy was upset. "Oh, okay, I'm sorry. Are you alright?" he asked, solicitously tilting his head. It was really cute. I'm happy he can apologize and make amends already, because that's a difficult skill that a lot of adults still lack. (I attribute this to our willingness to apologize to him ourselves, instead of pretending we didn't do something or insisting we were right when we obviously weren't.) </div> <div> </div> <div>He still phrases some things awkwardly, and some phrases have even become ingrained family slang, such as "You want no?" Meaning, "I don't want this." But he's moving a lot more towards proper pronouns.</div> <div> </div> lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02417223386917662430noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37558193.post-3488964229074598872009-06-21T11:43:00.001-07:002009-06-21T11:43:21.984-07:00Fireman Lost<div><br clear="all">I haven't been able to stop being upset about this. I think I'm more upset than Limelet. We accidentally left his fireman outfit (jacket and helmet with moveable visor) at the park last night (9pm), and of course it was gone this morning when we went back (8am). He loved that thing, even wanted us to bring it up to the bedroom so he could sleep with it nearby. He would dress up in it and sit watching his fireman video, while holding his toy fire truck. He wore it for hours every days lately. He'd go in the back and spray water from the hose while wearing it. He's been asking for it today, of course. "Da fireman stuff?" I've been avoiding letting him see that video.</div> <div> </div> <div>I haven't been able to find a replacement set online anywhere. This year's versions seem to be cheaper and flimsier (already). The helmets have no visors, etc. I got it from Rite Aid last year.</div> <div> </div> <div>Who would take a little kid's stuff like that? I know that's a dumb question. But I'm just so ticked off about it, and can't seem to let go of it. </div> <div> </div> <div>Especially since a few weeks ago when I found a pretty dang expensive hand-held video game I turned it in to public safety, even though Limelet loved it. It wasn't ours! </div> <div> </div> <div>I went back today and put up some signs, though I'm sure nothing will come of that except probably dirty prank phone calls on my cell.</div> <div> </div> <div>Stupid me losing stuff. Stupid people taking stuff.</div> lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02417223386917662430noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37558193.post-79071858478779558482009-06-17T06:59:00.000-07:002009-06-17T07:07:40.122-07:00Random Bits<div>It's been such a long time since I wrote anything, but not because nothing's happening. It's because <em>everything's</em> happening!</div> <div> </div> <div>Last night was a record five nights in a row of good sleep! !! !!! The previous record was three. I think this is partly because we've given in fighting against the late naptime at daycare, and started putting Limelet to bed late. Like 9:30 or even 10. It's sure better to do that, than put him to bed at 8:30 and have him wake up from 11 to 3, which was happening a lot. That was especially hard because I was finishing out my contract at work, and the last few months were the busiest and most tiring. (This is my first week "off.")</div> <div> </div> <div>It's been hard to discern which sleep disturbance has been from what, since he's been sick so often. Generally speaking it's been a big deal if he's had three or four days in a row in which he's not been sick, which is suspiciously similar to the number of nights in a row he's had good sleep. In the past four months alone he's had four (4!) ear infections requiring antibiotics, that week-long horrible GI thingfor which we went to the E.R., hand-foot-and-mouth, and at least one upper-respiratory infection that lasted three weeks. I spoke with another woman leaving the daycare yesterday who complained of the same thing: "my grandson never got sick at all until he started daycare this year, now he's sick constantly and they're planning to put tubes in his ears." Which, incidentally, Limelet's doctor mentioned last week when we were in for the fourth ear infection.</div> <div> </div> <div>Limelet has undergone another developmental jump in the past couple of months, and has grown very interactive in his conversation skills now. It's also clear that he remembers things that he couldn't describe at the time. For example, he remembers songs from videos he saw months ago and never sang before now, when he's become big on singing. Even as we have tried to shelter him from violence, some kid's videos and cartoons nevertheless have shooting. He doesn't know what a gun is, but calls them "explosion tubes" at this point. Which is fine, because he thinks an explosion is something fun, like fireworks.</div> <div> </div> <div>The other night when he was awake from 10 to 2, I was very tired (as you might imagine.) At midnight, as Limelet was happily sitting up reading a book in the night light, I yawned and said, "Limelet, it's midnight. Mama's turning into a pumpkin!" Startled, he turned and looked me up and down a few times with a serious and expectant look. I burst out laughing, because I realized that lately he's gotten the concept of something "turning into" something else, and imagined I was literally turning into a pumpkin. Characters in videos sometimes turn into other things, after all. I had to explain to him quickly that I was not, in fact, turning into a pumpkin.</div> <div> </div> <div>Limelet has also become very affectionate lately, and gives us kisses and hugs when he's feeling especially happy. Or sad or scared, which is pitiful. For example, the other day we were at the playground, which was very busy. I was crouched down by Limelet, who was standing on the ground pretending to slide down a sliding pole ("Like a fireman!") I heard TheLimey shouting and looked up in time to see a Big Kid (probably 10 or so) sliding straight down at us. I shouted at him to watch out, and that he should look down before he slides, as I snatched Limelet away from the pole. Well, Limelet thought that we were shouting at him and that he'd done something wrong, since I snatched him away while shouting. Poor little thing. It took us a minute to realize that he was still shaken and quiet, and when I picked him up he hugged me and tentatively kissed me. However, after I explained that we were not shouting at him, but shouting at those big boys to stop jumping on Limelet's head, he perked up immediately. It was clear that he understood the explanation, because a minute or two later he walked a few steps away from us and shouted "Stop, stop!" in the direction of the big boys.</div> <div> </div> <div>Oh, and a while ago, we got him a toy tool set. He was hammering on the doorframes around the house, and wanted TheLimey to join him. "Daddy, ham with the hammer?" Hee. There was some other similar construction that we laughed about, but I forget it.</div> lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02417223386917662430noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37558193.post-73204721831303374762009-05-08T10:37:00.000-07:002009-05-08T10:43:14.053-07:00Kerpow!Limelet now likes scenes in videos that feature "consplosions." He also insists that one of his favorite ducka beeps is a "compact hammer" instead of an "impact hammer." I don't know if this pattern means anything, but it's funny. He's using first-person sentence construction a lot more lately, especially when he really wants something. <div><br></div><div>Limelet also had his first skinned knee recently after falling at the playground. Not a bad one, but he got to experience picking a scab, which he seemed to find really fun. [rolling eyes]</div> lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02417223386917662430noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37558193.post-29411171105766815332009-05-06T09:18:00.001-07:002009-05-06T09:18:33.946-07:00Crazy Bus<div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/swissmiss/20887442/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/17/20887442_c2ebb25bb8_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /></a><br /><span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/swissmiss/20887442/">crazy bus</a><br />Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/swissmiss/">swissmiss</a></span></div>Oh yeah...here's the other ride he loved! It's surprisingly high up, too. I didn't know if he'd be terrified, but he laughed like ... well, crazy, the entire time.<br clear="all" />lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02417223386917662430noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37558193.post-89679471019562996662009-05-06T09:14:00.001-07:002009-05-06T09:14:50.475-07:00Bear Affair ride<div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/44165698@N00/17509226/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/13/17509226_25c8f3c1ca_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /></a><br /><span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/44165698@N00/17509226/">Bear Affair ride</a><br />Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/44165698@N00/">A.M. Kuchling</a></span></div>Limelet loved this ride especially. I wonder if there's a pic of the Crazy Bus (his other favorite) somewhere too?<br clear="all" />lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02417223386917662430noreply@blogger.com0