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story time

We've got a new favourite activity around here.

Listening to stories on tape. Yes, tape, as in cassette tape. We are officially old school. I was digging around in the closet the other day, looking for some yarn (I have a lot of yarn, but of course, was looking for some specific yarn. You know how it goes) when I found this old box of cassette tapes and story books left over from my childhood. My organized and clever mom had saved them all neatly together in a labeled box. Why, oh why did I not inherit her organizational gene? Its just not fair.

 After a brief moment of consideration I decided to let the Little Dude have them. He was right at my elbow after all, saying "What's dat? What are dose fings? I want to look at dose!" So it would have been rather hard to say no. But I did have slight reservations about it. Thus far in his life, we have not exposed him to TV. I decided early on, after reading some really good books on the subject, that we were going to try and raise a somewhat media-free child. That means, he doesn't watch TV, or movies, or play video games etc. He has some limited computer access to videos. Which means that he's allowed to watch video clips of his cousins on Facebook, (they love so far away, and I don't want him to forget them between visits) and if we are talking about something specific that he'll never see in real life, but can find a video of on YouTube we'll watch that too. For example, the other day the concept of monkey's grooming each other came up in conversation, and then we went and watched a couple of monkey grooming videos. Fascinating. Also, have you seen this 'monkey babysitter' one? Very interesting. 

So I decided that we'd go ahead and listen to books on tape. I also decided to dole them out two at a time, so as to benefit from their novelty as much a possible. They are not too long, but I must admit, I do enjoy the few moments of 'free time' they afford me, as he is absorbed in listening to them. Of course, it only lasts for about a dozen listenings, and after that I'm exhorted to sit and listen with him, or they kind of get ignored once the fun part of putting in the tape and pushing the buttons is over (what three year old in the world does not love pushing buttons). The books and tapes are part of a series copyrighted in 1973 called "The Story Teller Presents...", and proudly declare that they include "music of the Great Masters". Sure enough, each narrated story is laid out over a famous piece of classical music that enhances the story in some way. However, its very annoying that nowhere in the book does it tell you which famous piece of music it is, or who the Great Master was. And my knowledge of classical music is good, but not great, so I can hum along with all of them, and can't tell you the names. So frustrating. 

However, there was one small aspect of these little stories that I overlooked. Their content. I mean, they used to be mine, and I was raised in a very safe and fairly conservative household, so I didn't think twice about what was actually in these little books. You can't go wrong with fairytales, right?

Hunh. I'd completely forgotten how violent fairytales are. I'd anticipated some sexism. After all, I did do a bit of Women's Studies in University. So I reserved what I was sure would be the major offenders (Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Snow White) for later after I'd had time to vet them for content. But it didn't even occur to me that I might have issues with The Ugly Duckling! 

Dude! That story is rough! The level of self loathing that that poor little duckling goes through is crazy. Suicidal thoughts and everything! I had no memory of it being this intense, but I didn't even let him hear the whole thing, because it was freaking me out. The other ducks are so mean to him too. I'm not sure that the moral (attractiveness is all relative and someday you'll find out where you fit in) is even worth it.

His mother rejects him, the other ducks try to hurt him. Finally, he leaves the ducks and goes out on his own, and spends a really, really bad winter by himself and almost dies a couple of times. 

Then he sees the swans, and marvels at how beautiful they are, and his big solution to the torment of his life is to go to the swans and hope they kill him! Seriously! Suicide by swan. "In the pond were three beautiful swans. He recognized them at once and said to himself, 'I'll go to the beautiful birds and let them kill me. I am so ugly, the certainly would not want me around. But.. it is better to be killed by them than to suffer through another winter."

I could not believe this was a kids book. Even for the 70's this seems harsh. 

Anyhow, we've put that one away. L.D. wasn't much interested in it anyhow. His favourites are clear: Tom Thumb, Little Red Riding Hood and Jack and the Beanstalk.

I must say, that I'm impressed with the Little Dude's comprehension and recall about the details of these stories. Yesterday I was laying on the bed, breastfeeding the Baby, and L.D. was hovering about with nothing to do and getting into mischief (resetting Hubs' bedside clock, not the best idea) so I quickly said "Come sit here and I'll tell you about Jack and the Beanstalk" and I proceeded to tell him the story from memory. But he quickly corrected me on some pretty specific details. Its not a chicken that lays golden eggs, but a hen. And the pot that Jack hid in was a copper pot. Oh, and also, the Giant's name is BoBo. I disputed him on that one, but he was adamant. I thought it was cute that he made up a name for the giant, and the later on and heard him listening to the tape and.. he was right. The giant's name is BoBo. Go figure. 

And of course, there is some annoying sexism. For example, in Rumpelstiltskin, the Miller's Daugher (Named Joy) is very beautiful...
...but the greedy King only sees her as a gold producing wonder at first. Then, after she has spun straw into gold for him twice, he finally notices that she is beautiful. 

(Note her seductive look. Very funny) and then shows just what kind of a douche he truly is.

Just in case you can't read the text in the picture above, this is what it says: "The King took Joy into his arms and said, 'If you spin all this straw into gold, I will marry you and make you my queen. But if you fail, my people will laugh at me and unfortunately you will have to die! I will return in the morning.' With that he left." Sheesh! I can't even begin to describe all the ways that is wrong. In any case, I don't want my kid reading it. 

I've got more thoughts on this and some other interesting examples of violence and the Little Dude's reaction to them, but I'll have to post about it tomorrow, because its getting late and I need to get to bed soon. But I'm interested in hearing your point of view. Do you ever sensor your kids reading? Do you soften some of the harsher things, or leave out gory details? Do you read original fairy tales, of just the bowdlerized Disney versions? Which stories have you decided are too much? I'm curious to hear about your experiences with the more difficult fairy tales and moral stories. 

rotten night

... not surprisingly, followed by a rotten day. Argh. So here I am back in the land of the sick and the maimed. I'm telling you, parenting is an awesome gig, so long as everybody is healthy. Really, I can handle almost anything when everyone is breathing well and sleeping well. But throw a cold in there and shit starts to go downhill real fast. I considered taking a picture of my living room to show you the amount of mess: clothes, both dirty and clean, diapers, sundry used cups and pretty nearly every toy my child owns strewn around the room. But it really seemed like too much work. You know its bad when pressing a button seems like an effort. 

So last night, I knew it was going to go badly because the Little Dude had had a runny nose all after noon. And it was a particular kind of runny nose. You know how they say that the Inuit have many words for snow, as they describe all the different kinds of snow, because snow is such in important and impactful part of their lives. Well, that's how snot is for me. (note: this is why I love the internet. I just did a quick search to check the veracity of that 'multiple Inuit words for snow' concept, and apparently it is not true at all. Here's a link to the very useful Wikipedia entry regarding said question. You learn something new every day) I have many different words for the mucus that comes out of my kids nose. This particular kind of snot (clear but constant, combined with sneezes that cause the snot to exit his nose with an explosive force) did not bode well for a night of sleep. And I was right. I got about 4, maybe 5 hours if I count the 15 minute increments that I slept in L.D's bed. It was wretched. The poor kid was awake very regularly, and very uncomfortable. We did all our fight-the-congestion tricks (bed on an angle, humidifier, homeopathics, etc) but it was not so much congestion as a constant runny nose, so nothing really worked. He'd wake up with mucus running down his face, and howl with such anguish "wipe my noooooooose!", that you'd swear the snot was acidic. So I spent most of the night laying next to him with a tissue in my hand. Eventually, we went out the the living room and sat up in a chair, as sitting tends to alleviate the congestion somewhat. He was quite awake, so he chatted and asked me questions that I answered mostly incoherently while I dozed in and out of consciousness. I was also trying to tell him stories, because that distracts him from the discomfort, but I kept screwing them up, and he kept calling me on it (Mama, da big bad wolf doesn't fall in the river!) Then, finally, at about 2:00 am he fell asleep again. So I went to bed and slept until the baby woke up. At 5:00 am. At which point, I looked to the heavens and said "Are you kidding me?" Nope, not kidding. Got the baby back to bed and went back to sleep until 6:30 am when L.D was up for the day. A truly rotten night. 

And then the day was not much better. Was so tired that when the baby went for his first nap at 9:00 am, I asked Hubs to stay with L.D. so that I could take a nap while the baby slept. He somewhat reluctantly agreed. Oh, because did I mention, his left arm is in a full cast! Right, as I told you earlier, he was injured at work, and it turns out that he not only had a nasty gash, but also cut the tendon above his elbow. So on Saturday he has surgery to repair it. So, he's on day four of a post surgery recovery. So really, not functioning at 100% to say the least. He's over the groggy and nauseous, but still is in some pain and is extra tired. Also, he needs to keep his arm elevated at a weird angle that is not conducive to doing, well, anything. So he stayed with the Little Dude and I had a nap, but the Baby only slept for about an hour, and had a brief crying wake up at the half hour mark, after which he went back to sleep, but essentially it did not do me much good. Sigh. And then when I got up and went to see Hubs his hand was all swollen because he'd been doing too much. Which made me fell guilty, of course. Argh. 

Oh, and then after L.D's nap, he woke up super uncomfortable and with a familiar and very unpleasant sounding cough. So I quickly called my doctor and went in for an appointment, and yep, confirmed it, he has croup again. AGAIN! So, the chances of much sleep tonight are again, slim to nil. Everyone is being a trouper (Hubs doing his best to help out where his injury allows him, the Little Dude being fairly pleasant during waking hours) but still, its much, much harder than it normally is. 

Which just brings me to ask, how do single parents do it? How do army mom's do it? How does someone with a husband or wife who works long hours and does not get home until after the kids go to bed do it? I know that many people manage in situations MUCH harder than what I'm dealing with, and I tip my hats to them. But MAN, it sucks to try and feed and bathe and wrangle two kids, one of whom is sick and unhappy and unco-operative, into bed each night, especially on a dearth of sleep, when you are (essentially) all by yourself. (Hubs is pretty much in bed from 6:30 on)

If the baby gets sick too, I'm screwed. 

Speaking of which, I'm very tired, and should go to bed myself. Wish me luck people. Send prayers and frozen pizzas. 

Thanks for listening to me vent. It helps.  

chomp

Three year olds are nothing if they are not literalists. Combine that with the fact that we are doing our best to raise an empowered child who does not have to be waited on hand and foot and this is what you get.

Yep. That's a brick of cheese with a little boy chomp out of it. I was getting lunch on the other day, and since Hubs is laid up with his arm, I have a little less help and a little more work than usual. So the cheese was up on the counter when the Little Dude said, "Mama, I can have some cheese?", and I said, "sure you can sweetheart." Meaning, yes you can have some cheese, just give me a second while I come over there and cut a piece off for you. But before I knew it I turned around and he was busily helping himself. With his mouth. 

Look at that bite! If this was a crime scene, I'm sure we could get a positive ID from these bite marks. Especially if the crime was being a cheese stealer. Anyhow, I got to him before bite number two, and took the cheese right out of his hands, and he gave me the funniest confused look, as if to say, "What's the problem here? You said I could have some."

Cheese eating little literalist. 

accessories

The Little Dude has learned of the joys of accessorizing. It was only a matter of time, as the apples doesn't fall far from the tree and I'm quite the accessory afficionado myself. However, while I tend towards cocktail rings, quirky pendants and earrings that might be considered excessive, L.D. has something else in mind.

Here he is in his fully accessorized glory. Want a close up? You know you do.

Lets see, we'll start on the left where he is sporting his papa's GIANT old ipod (I believe this was the first one they ever made) in a leather-look case, attached to his waist band. The ear buds are in his ears, natch (don't worry, the volume is set very low) and he's listening to the lullaby version of Coldplay (from Rockabye Baby) that we used to play when we put him to bed when he was a wee little baby. Which is basically retro nostalgia music for him. Then, as we move along the accessory tour, you will find not just one, but two carabiners, attached to his belt loops and holding his keys and doodads. He's very into keys these days. Hubs wears his keys clipped to his belt loops with a carabiner, so of course, L.D. feels that's the way to go. We've scrounged up all the spare/useless/mystery keys we could find for him to play with after a slightly disastrous episode with the spare car keys, which are now permanently missing. Ahem. I suggest you don't let a toddler play with anything that you would rather not loose. Anyhoo, he's very pleased to now have his own set of keys, and a hook to hang them on when he's not wearing them. And if you are willing to listen, he will happily regale you with the tales of how, when he's all grown up he will have his own keys and his own truck and he will use the keys to drive the truck. 

Sounds good buddy. Just not too soon, please. 

look in here

The Little Dude has a new hiding place.   It's the sugar bowl from his little Ikea tea set. He has decided its the best place to keep very important things. Such as...

... one third of a sticky partially eaten droppie. For those of you who are not Dutch, a droppie is a salted licorice candy. They are definitely not to everybody's taste, but I have recently introduced the Little Dude to them, and surprise, surprise, he LIKES them! If you've not had one before, let me try and describe the taste to you. There are many varieties, that range from very salty to sweetly salty. These particular brown ones are shaped like coins, are about the size of a dollar coin, and are licorice-y of course, but with a sort of sweetly-saltiness with a slight hint of dirty sock to it. Do you know what I mean? Its hard to describe. Let me just add that they are really good. If you like that sort of thing. And I do. Droppies are probably my favourite kind of candy.

Anyhow, L.D. is only allowed one a day, so he takes that one, and eats a leetle bite out of it, and then puts it in this little sugar bowl, and then, later on in the day, like maybe after lunch has one more tiny bite out of it. And then puts it in the bowl again, and then, maybe after nap comes back and has the last bit. 

I love that kid. 

bath time

Our lovely Baby is just shy of 5 months, and oh, he is growing so fast! He is sleeping well through the nights, is very aware of all going on around him, spends most of his time trying to reach for any object near him in order to put it in his mouth and gum it for all its worth. When placed on his stomach on the ground, he tries his best to inch forward, but still can't quite figure it out. Instead he ends up working his way around in a circle. And when he is given the chance, he loves to push with his legs and stand up. Push, stand, kick, lurch, sway, push, stand, wobble. Holding him on your lap is practically an aerobic workout. And bath time has changed from a quiet time of sitting in the water to a very active time of standing and stomping with his feet.   He's always loved the mirror, but he used to mostly look at the reflection of the person holding him. I would sing and he would smile his big half moon grin at me as I staggered my way though Landslide or Lush Life or one of my other old favourites. (That's one of the best things about babies and very small children. They are totally uncritical of bad singing. Its very liberating) Anyhow, as you can see in the above picture, he's much more interested these days in trying to get his hands on that other baby in the mirror. 

Though ideally, he'd like to get ahold of that kid and chew on him. Nom!

You really have to keep a good hold on him, because left to his own devices he will definitely head butt the mirror. 

And he doesn't completely ignore his mama and dada. We do get the occasional coo and smile. But if he could just get that other baby to hold still!

Eventually we talk him into sitting down. That or he wears himself out. And then we can give his hair a proper washing and whatnot. 

And those nice clean fingers are delicious. 

I love bath time. I can't believe how much he has grown, and yet how much he still stays the same. Look at the pictures of him in the tub back in this post a couple of months back. Same pose, same eyes, but look at how much more room he takes up, and how much higher up he sits. His head used to be compltely below the top of the tub, and now he's half a head over it! And so it goes with parenting. Its such a cliché, but its amazing how fast they grow up. Soon he won't fit into that tub at all, and we'll have to put him in a little bath seat in the tub with his brother. I kind of cringe at the thought of how much work that is going to be (I'm sure the whole bathroom will be wet by the time we are done) but oh, the fun they'll have. Anyhow, that's months away from now. And in the mean time, I'm very much enjoying my still little(ish) baby. 

thrifting on the weekend

Thanks to all of you for your kind concern regarding Hubs' elbow. He has an ultrasound tomorrow, and then we we find out more definitively about tendon damage. He was kind of uncomfortable today, which sucks, but it was nice to have him around the house, for his good company, and also for an extra pair of, well, not hands per se, but and extra adult presence for when the inevitable simultaneous crisises come up. You know what I mean, as soon as I've got the babies pants off to EC him, the Little Dude will coincidentally have to go 'pee pee on the pot-taaaay!' as well. It was much easier with Hubs around to walk him to the bathroom and oversee things, while I dealt with the Baby.

Anyhow, I wanted to post these pics of some weekend thrifting finds. My mom had the Little Dude over on Saturday afternoon to splash in the kiddie pool and play in the sandbox. So Hubs and I took the opportunity to go for a little Value Village date (plus Baby makes three!) It was nice to go without an active little boy along, who needs to see and touch and explore everything. The Baby was a much quieter, less demanding shopping companion. Though he does put a much needed time limit on things. Just as well, as we can spend HOURS at a V.V. and the time cap helps us save money. Oh, but I almost forgot the best part! We had a 30% off coupon. I know, I have friends who mock me for using a coupon at a second hand store, but bear in mind, the stuff is cheap, not free, and for the amount of stuff we tend to bring home it can really add up. Hubs in particular has a tendency to find all the big ticket items. 

Anyhow, here's what we got.

This fabric is actually a pair of pajama pants. I just really liked the print and its a brushed cotton that I don't think was ever actually worn. Plus its a large, so there is lots of fabric there. The motifs are about as big as a loonie, and that yellow one is scattered around somewhat randomly.

This is a set of sheets I bought to use as... sheets actually. We have a twin guest bed that needs non-ugly sheets (we only have a hand-me down set of florals that I find quite ugly) and I didn't want to pay a lot of money for something we rarely use. So 8 bucks seemed like a good price. Plus, 30% off....

Some fresh new napkins for summer. Our old ones are getting pretty mangy, and may need to be demoted soon. These are a nice, heavy cotton. 

Then I went and hit the kids clothing section. Little plaid man-shirts of course. How I love them. One big one for L.D. and two little ones for the Baby to grow into. 

Some cute tank tops, one for each boy. 

The cutest little plaid-y overalls. Nice and light, good for summer. And two t-shirts, not onesies. They are actually kind of hard to find in stores, so I always keep and eye out in the thrifts. Quite necessary for EC'ing (which is going better and better by the way). The turquoise one is actually made of bamboo and is ridiculously soft!

And I'll give you three guesses which digger obsessed toddler this is for.

Then on to tableware and glassware. I LOVE this kind of mug. I have quite a little collection of these. Though not many in this sweet robin's egg blue colour. I love it. The strips are every so slightly raised, and it is such a nice quality. I was thrilled to find it, because I used to find them quite often, but now they are getting much scarcer. 

Cutest cheese plate ever!

And theses sweet little guys are from Norway. I believe they are egg cups, but we have a better idea...

They are perfect little dip holders. Tsatziki and hummus are staples around here, and this holds just the right amount. We used to let L.D. dip right out of the bit container with the rest of us, but lately his table manners have been slipping and as soon as I turn my back (or even before) he plops his whole hand in there like his name is Madge and he's soaking in it. He thinks its hilarious and my best stern face and voice cannot convince him otherwise, so portion control is the way to go for now. 

   Hubs picked up this little teapot. Its cute and all, but I'm trying to curb the steady flow of teapots into our house. But Hubs has a weakness for Chinoiserie (or Japonoserie, but I don't think thats a word) so we picked it up.

He also found this to go with our collection of ceramic things that are mostly white. 

Its a coin bank too! Japanese I think. Anyone know what this says, or who the little cloud guy character is?

And this practical purchase....

...despite its 'happy hour in the '80s' packaging...

...is actually for the Little Dude. I hate plastic kids dishes, and prefer for him to use a glass, and these little generous shot-style glasses are the perfect size for his little hands. And if he breaks the, oh well, they were not expensive. 

This is going to be the Baby's toy bin. Compared to the Little Dude, he has very few toys, but it still is handy to keep them together in one place. Makes it easier to find his favourite rattle/teething toy. I'm not such a huge fan of wicker, but I like it much better than gross ugly plastic, and there are always lots of these at the v.v.

Our last stop was a very, very quick peak in the book section. This was Hubs' pick. It has some really gorgeous pictures in it of very delicate bird and rabbit porcelain sculptures. 

Also, this dedication is awesome. (And as usual, he wins the biggest-ticket-item-in-the-purchase contest)

And I got this amazing book! I will be dedicating a whole post to it next week sometime, once I've finished perusing it and doing a bit of research. I haven't yet decided if I love it, or am merely amused by it. I'm on the fence. So far though, I'm fascinated by it. 

There were also some aprons, but the picture I took of them was really crappy. And then there were a few random glasses and other things that Hubs bought that didn't' make it into photographs. But all in all, it was such a nice little afternoon getaway. It almost felt like a date. 

injury (but don't panic, we're all ok now)

So, this was Hubs' day today: Yep, a trip to the emergency room. He was working with some large, heavy cumbersome laser cut stainless steel sheet metal, (at his job, not at home) and ended up getting gashed in the back of the elbow by it. The photo above is of the opposite hand, because of course, as soon as it happened, he clamped his hand over it to stop the blood. Oh, by the way, if you are squeamish, maybe today's post is not for you. So, just to clarify, no injury on his hand, just some picturesque dried blood.

This is only the third time in our marriage that I've had to go and pick him up at the emergency ward. And of the three, this is the most minor (number 1: totaled the car, concussion and superficial face trauma. number 2: Second degree burns over most of the back of his hand, due to inadvertently plunging it into a bucket of hot wax. That one was an art-school injury). So when this was how he looked when I got there, I was rather relieved. Still, the drive to the emergency room, when you don't quite know all the details, but just want to get there as soon as possible - just a leetle bit stressful.

Here's the site of the wound. Apparently it was not very long, but quite deep. They had to stitch it up, and he has to keep it immobilized for a couple of days because they are concerned about possible tendon damage. So in a few days we'll go back and have an ultrasound to see if there is anything to that. Please keep us in your thoughts and prayers, as tendon damage would suck. Because have you seen the awesome things he makes? Obviously, this man needs the good use of his hands. 

And here he is, all casted, wrapped and slinged up. Sense of humour fully functional however, as he illustrates to me how safety glasses work. Its an inside joke around here, as the Little Dude, who loves to visit Hubs' shop/garage, is fascinated by the Safety glasses and goggles, and Hubs, when explaining their purpose to him, said "you wear these so that, if a nail or a splinter breaks and shoots up towards your eye, it will just go 'doink!' and bounce off the safety glasses and it won't hurt your eyes." So now, whenever L.D. wears sunglasses, he always mimes something ricocheting off them, with a triumphant cry of the sound effect "DOINK!". Which is hilarious. 

Anyhow, despite all the drama we have a lot to be thankful for today. Not to be a Pollyanna, but it was very fortunate that my mom just happened to have dropped by with a bag of cherries for us, when we got the phone call that Hubs' was at the hospital. So I was able to go and be with him, as she was able to stay with the boys. And we are, as always, lucky to live in Canada, so that when the doctor told us that, if there is tendon damage, there might have to be surgery, we didn't have to go running to the bank account to see if we can afford it. Yay healthcare! Also, the emergency ward was super fast today - extra bonus. And it could have been so much more serious. So really all things considered, we are very thankful. 

And now that both the littles are tucked in bed, I'm going to go and find a big plastic bag to wrap around Hub's cast so he can have a shower. He's already been making sponge-bath jokes, so I know he's fine. 

dinner time

I've been sporting a fabulous new accessory every day at about 5:30.  Its what all the stylish mom's are wearing this season. Because nothing says "I'd like to prepare dinner now" better than 16(ish, I haven't weighed him in a while) pounds of baby strapped to the front of you. Seriously, I don't know what it is about the last half-hour before a meal is ready (because I'm also wearing this look at 11:30 am) but clearly, its fussin' time. No toy is interesting anymore, no change of scenery, or bouncy seat or blanket on the floor it good enough once the clock has struck 5:30. And I'm not so opposed to a little fussing, but what really gets to me is the way that he physically harrasses himself when he's upset. It's like he's a little Jekyll/Hyde baby. Part of him is all innocent and harmless, just sitting there minding his own business. In the meantime, his evil little hands get up to no good, as he gives himself a serious facial mauling. He grabs his own ear and twists it, like he's trying to tune a radio. Then he hooks a finger in the bottom edge of his eye socket, and pulls down on it like a bedroom window shade. And if that's not enough, he rakes his sharp little baby nails over his forehead as though he's trying to dig furrows for spring planting. I can't stand it. And neither can he. After a few minutes of this abuse, he usually starts to protest, and I don't blame him. 

At which point I pick him up and pop him into the carrier. (In case you're wondering, its an Ergo Baby Carrier, and I totally recommend it. I've got three other slings/carriers, and this is the only one I use, because its the only one that doesn't hurt my back. Totally worth it) And then I continue going about my dinner prep, chopping and slicing etc. The only thing I won't do with him in it is drain pasta or cook bacon. Safety first, don't want to burn the baby. 

And oddly enough, even though its not my ideal working condition, it feels in a way like he's helping me. He silently watches every move I make, as though supporting my choice of vegetables (oooh, green onions, nice.) or admiring my chopping technique. And every now and again, I glance down at him and he's looking up at me, and he flashes me one of his big half-moon smiles and I just feel, I don't know... appreciated maybe? Is that weird? I'm probably just projecting, but I do feed that kid out of my own body, so the food that I make and eat is important to him too. I just somehow feel like he's thanking me for dinner. Or at the very least enjoying the comfort of my proximity. And I give him a big sunny smile in return and then we go back to our salad making, working together. Sort of. 

baby talk

It's amazing how having a three year old parrot a few steps behind you all day, really holds up a mirror to your use of language. For example, I never realized how many words I make up. Lots of onomatopoeia in my day to day language. We refer to the sounds that the baby makes as he is waking up and starting to fuss as 'squonking'. And when I go in to his room to try and quiet him and get him back to sleep I refer to is as 'hushing him down'. As a result the Little Dude uses all these terms too. I was out back hanging some laundry today, and L.D. was in the basement, just on the other side of the screen door, but came running to tell me that 'dat baby is squonkin' mama!' and the other day, when Hubs and I were discussing who should put the Baby to bed and who should tuck in the Little Dude, he told us 'you go mama, you are better at hushin' him down.' Hm. Not entirely true, but it was obvious in that moment that L.D. had chosen Daddy as the one to read his bedtime stories to him. 

But my favourite was the other day, when the Little Dude was laying next to the Baby on the big bed after I'd just finished feeding him. The Baby reached out for L.D's hand, and pulled it towards his mouth so that he could give it a good toothless gumming. With great delight L.D. shouted, 'Look mama, he's glomming me!"

'Glom' is the best description I can find for how much that Baby LOVES to get his mouth on any part of the person holding him, and slobbery-chew it for all he's worth. That kid has got to be teething. The drooling is unreal. I had him propped up against my shoulder the other day as I was getting him ready for bed, and by the time I laid him down the saliva was literally running over my bare shoulder and down my back. Not the best feeling, I have to tell you. 

Here's a little series of pictures that illustrates his technique.
Step 1: Find a likely victim. 

Step 2: Sneak up on 'em when they are not paying attention. Get in there real close. Pretend like you aren't up to anything at all. Take them by the hand, all friendly-like, as if to say "Hello there Ms. Bear. Say, what's that over there, outside the window? 

Step 3: Get you slobbery little mouth on them and GLOM!

Step 4: Feel pretty darned good about it!

Good times!