I need a life-event narration conglomerator. If I could get a smart device to capture all the stories I recount by mouth, by text, by email, by Facebook status update, and by Blogger, and jam them all into one place, I'd be ecstatic. I want to include the boys' funnies, my favorite recipes and baby gadgets, our adventures and all other sorts of life bits. I'd love this to be my spot. I think. I'm mostly consumed by the thought: Will my boys care to know about themselves (and other parts of my life) some day, and where can they be assured to find this information?
I have them set up with emails that I send stories to, on occasion, so if they all have links to this, or perhaps an exported file of these ramblings, maybe that will work. Who knows where technology will be by then. Is this like saving them an 8-track mix tape? I love the feel and process of writing in paper journals, but they aren't searchable and heaven knows they would need to pay a cryptologist to decipher my handwriting.
This takes so much discipline and perseverance, and a compatible baby, who currently is enjoying a repetitive loop of nursing for 4 minutes, then playing for 2 minutes, before clawing back at me with his teary demands. Now I need to go write to the Facebook people for a log of all my posts that I can paste into this. Oh, that was a good laugh. I'll go find 'em myself.
It looks like I have another 2 minutes to scramble. Even Ian has figured out Elijah's favorite pastime. He observed: There goes Elijah looking for more paper to eat.
p.s. I will now go *grunkle into my new life-changing device. You do not know this, but I have the power of retro-inventing. I invent things in my mind and they appear as someone else's recent-past invention. I stomp my foot that I won't get paid for it, but move on to the pre-fabricated solution, resigned to the fact that I'd have been too lazy to figure out how to make it exist.
p.p.s. This particular instance of retro-inventing might involve the use of a time machine and a brain implant that has allowed me to download selective bits of memory and Oculartography and convert them into the 2010 HTML text version.
*You will have to search my blog for the meaning of this word, if it is not apparent.
Showing posts with label communication. Show all posts
Showing posts with label communication. Show all posts
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Girls can't rock?
So, the story starts with me dancing to a song in the car. Ian says, "You're not a rock star, mom." I asked who, then, could be a rock star. He replied, "Boys are rock stars. Girls sing slow songs." As soon as I got home, I was set on shifting his cute little paradigm with some good ol' Joan Jett. See if you can catch his words at the end:
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
I need a Tuesdayectomy
Apparently the unpublished price of admission for Vacation Bible School is one fever for each participant, to be distributed immediately to said participant's doting mother. Well, I haven't had Ian and Isaac's fever *yet* but I did acquire a sore throat and a certain bleariness. I suppose it was worth it to observe Ian's carefree joyful participation, albeit his own version of participation - mainly consisting of bunny hops and skillful dance moves around his peer group.
Elijah has been working on some sort of rash for a couple of weeks. At first I thought it was a heat rash because he had little red bumps in his elbow and neck creases. However, since then, its covering his whole body and he's itching like crazy, since last Friday night, at least. Not sure if it's an antibiotic allergy, a virus or just dry itchy skin. The skin under his Tegaderm is breaking down and he scratches at that a lot too. We've experimented with different dressings - Bioclusive and now some Duoderm under his Tegaderm. I've also wrapped his chest in 3" Kling and made little "wife beater" tanks out of some tube gauze to keep it all contained. All wrapped up like that and sporting some socks on his hands to disable the grabbers, he looks just like a little prize fighter.
Between Isaac's fever and Ian's fever, we took our first overnight "micro-cation" since Elijah was born. We drove up to Dalton Saturday night and stayed in a hotel so we could spend the next day in Chattanooga. Ian had been begging us for weeks to stay in a hotel. We grabbed Chick-Fil-A on the way up and arrived in time to swim in the pool before bed. The indoor pool deck was incredibly slippery and Isaac slipped and fell three times while walking carefully. The last time, he hit his head and we decided we'd had enough of that. We instead went "swimming" in the room. Our room had a giant whirlpool bath in the corner of the room, so the boys splashed in there for a few minutes. We actually managed to get Ian to sleep in his own bed. When Brian rolled in the spare bed, Ian thought it was the coolest thing ever and immediately claimed it. The boys jumped on it a bit and when Brian said it was bed time, everyone tried to pile into our Queen-sized "King" bed (we were told it was a King, but sure seemed small). We had to resort to the conniving tactic of starting to offer the extra bed to Isaac to engage Ian's jealousy switch. Ian ultimately decided to take the bed and slept there all night, though only under the condition that I draped an arm down over him.
Sunday, we had a non-adventurous brunch at Five Guys, before continuing to Chattanooga. I forgot to mention, we chose Chatt because Brian's dad is doing some work in Murfreesboro, and it was a good halfway point to hang out. However, he, unsurprisingly was quite a bit faster readying himself than our circus of five, so he actually met us at our hotel. In Chatt., we grunkled** into a walking bridge, so we parked at one end of it for $3, loaded every possible contingency item into our stroller and headed for the bridge (**The term grunkle is a word of Skinner-family origin, meaning to fortuitously encounter something while traveling). It was so hot we were afraid we'd been forgotten at the Second Coming.
Near the foot of the bridge was a sign for a glass bridge to the right. I had to experience that. I hefted the stroller up the ramp and onto the bridge. I paused at the apex and told Ian to climb out of the stroller and look down. I wish I could describe all the thoughts his expression conveyed, but he very quickly found and planted his feet on a spot supported by a steel beam. He was intrigued, but cautious. It really was an interesting experience to stand on such an elevated glass floor. I wonder how that Grand Canyon walkway would be.
We went halfway over the walking bridge and decided it was far too miserable to be outside, so we turned back and decided to go to the aquarium nearby. On the way to the aquarium, we collectively tripped and fell into an ice cream shop. While there we asked a local what our boys might like to do and they pointed us to a kids' science center that was in "walking distance." That was "walking distance" like our bed the night before was a "King." It was a cool place though, and the boys had a blast. The first area had some water activities and a play structure and they could have happily stayed there all day.
For dinner, we went out of our way to go to Famous Dave's. It was glorious and amazing BBQ when we ate there in Omaha, but now we see why so many have closed down. Oh well, that's out of my system now.
On our way home, we were reminiscing about our day, and all the fun we had. We asked Isaac if he had fun that weekend and he said, "yes." We asked him what his favorite part was and he exclaimed, "Chick-Fil-A! Num num num!"
Yesterday went by in a blur. Not often a day goes so quickly. At one point, Ian was keeping Elijah and me company while I nursed Elijah to sleep. Ian told me, "When I growed into a little baby, I had to go to the doctor and he measured my heart beat and I almost didn't need a poke. Then I camed home and got bigger and growed teeth and now I have 20 jokes and I need to grow down to a little baby again." I'd like to hear the professional analysis of that. Too funny.
Today has more than made up for yesterday's quickness. Last night, not even a good dose of Benadryl gave Elijah a good sleep. It was one of those nights when I question if I got any sleep at all. Isaac is definitely Two. Lots of big Big BIG emotion. Sometimes he starts wailing and I have no idea why and he won't or can't tell me and will only shriek, "hold me hold me hold me." If I set him down so I can do something so selfish as pee, the wailing starts up again and doesn't stop until I pick him up again. It gets a little hairy when both Isaac and Elijah insist on being held. This evening, after Isaac woke up from his nap doing his perma-wail, I finally had to "bribe" him with a peanut butter and chocolate (Nutella) sandwich. He quietly breathed "mm hmm," at the suggestion, so I dove into action. I had previously tried to assess the situation to no avail. "Are you scared?" "No." "Are you hurt?" "No." "Are you lonely?" "No." "Are you hungry?" "No." "Tell me what's the matter, sweetie." "No." So, I had to pull the chocolate out of my bag. "Mm hmm." Yes! A "yes!" Quick! Somebody get me the Nutella!
The anticipation of a gooey chocolate sandwich apparently did some magic, because I'd no sooner put my knife to work when Isaac cracked a giddy smile and said, "You're happy, Mom!" He ate his sandwich in his typical solemn demeanor. I took the opportunity to change Elijah's diaper and as I turned toward the trash can, I stubbed my toe, yelping a little in pain. Isaac exploded in laughter. Enjoy, Captain Schadenfreude. This one's on me.
Elijah has been working on some sort of rash for a couple of weeks. At first I thought it was a heat rash because he had little red bumps in his elbow and neck creases. However, since then, its covering his whole body and he's itching like crazy, since last Friday night, at least. Not sure if it's an antibiotic allergy, a virus or just dry itchy skin. The skin under his Tegaderm is breaking down and he scratches at that a lot too. We've experimented with different dressings - Bioclusive and now some Duoderm under his Tegaderm. I've also wrapped his chest in 3" Kling and made little "wife beater" tanks out of some tube gauze to keep it all contained. All wrapped up like that and sporting some socks on his hands to disable the grabbers, he looks just like a little prize fighter.
Between Isaac's fever and Ian's fever, we took our first overnight "micro-cation" since Elijah was born. We drove up to Dalton Saturday night and stayed in a hotel so we could spend the next day in Chattanooga. Ian had been begging us for weeks to stay in a hotel. We grabbed Chick-Fil-A on the way up and arrived in time to swim in the pool before bed. The indoor pool deck was incredibly slippery and Isaac slipped and fell three times while walking carefully. The last time, he hit his head and we decided we'd had enough of that. We instead went "swimming" in the room. Our room had a giant whirlpool bath in the corner of the room, so the boys splashed in there for a few minutes. We actually managed to get Ian to sleep in his own bed. When Brian rolled in the spare bed, Ian thought it was the coolest thing ever and immediately claimed it. The boys jumped on it a bit and when Brian said it was bed time, everyone tried to pile into our Queen-sized "King" bed (we were told it was a King, but sure seemed small). We had to resort to the conniving tactic of starting to offer the extra bed to Isaac to engage Ian's jealousy switch. Ian ultimately decided to take the bed and slept there all night, though only under the condition that I draped an arm down over him.
Sunday, we had a non-adventurous brunch at Five Guys, before continuing to Chattanooga. I forgot to mention, we chose Chatt because Brian's dad is doing some work in Murfreesboro, and it was a good halfway point to hang out. However, he, unsurprisingly was quite a bit faster readying himself than our circus of five, so he actually met us at our hotel. In Chatt., we grunkled** into a walking bridge, so we parked at one end of it for $3, loaded every possible contingency item into our stroller and headed for the bridge (**The term grunkle is a word of Skinner-family origin, meaning to fortuitously encounter something while traveling). It was so hot we were afraid we'd been forgotten at the Second Coming.
Near the foot of the bridge was a sign for a glass bridge to the right. I had to experience that. I hefted the stroller up the ramp and onto the bridge. I paused at the apex and told Ian to climb out of the stroller and look down. I wish I could describe all the thoughts his expression conveyed, but he very quickly found and planted his feet on a spot supported by a steel beam. He was intrigued, but cautious. It really was an interesting experience to stand on such an elevated glass floor. I wonder how that Grand Canyon walkway would be.
We went halfway over the walking bridge and decided it was far too miserable to be outside, so we turned back and decided to go to the aquarium nearby. On the way to the aquarium, we collectively tripped and fell into an ice cream shop. While there we asked a local what our boys might like to do and they pointed us to a kids' science center that was in "walking distance." That was "walking distance" like our bed the night before was a "King." It was a cool place though, and the boys had a blast. The first area had some water activities and a play structure and they could have happily stayed there all day.
For dinner, we went out of our way to go to Famous Dave's. It was glorious and amazing BBQ when we ate there in Omaha, but now we see why so many have closed down. Oh well, that's out of my system now.
On our way home, we were reminiscing about our day, and all the fun we had. We asked Isaac if he had fun that weekend and he said, "yes." We asked him what his favorite part was and he exclaimed, "Chick-Fil-A! Num num num!"
Yesterday went by in a blur. Not often a day goes so quickly. At one point, Ian was keeping Elijah and me company while I nursed Elijah to sleep. Ian told me, "When I growed into a little baby, I had to go to the doctor and he measured my heart beat and I almost didn't need a poke. Then I camed home and got bigger and growed teeth and now I have 20 jokes and I need to grow down to a little baby again." I'd like to hear the professional analysis of that. Too funny.
Today has more than made up for yesterday's quickness. Last night, not even a good dose of Benadryl gave Elijah a good sleep. It was one of those nights when I question if I got any sleep at all. Isaac is definitely Two. Lots of big Big BIG emotion. Sometimes he starts wailing and I have no idea why and he won't or can't tell me and will only shriek, "hold me hold me hold me." If I set him down so I can do something so selfish as pee, the wailing starts up again and doesn't stop until I pick him up again. It gets a little hairy when both Isaac and Elijah insist on being held. This evening, after Isaac woke up from his nap doing his perma-wail, I finally had to "bribe" him with a peanut butter and chocolate (Nutella) sandwich. He quietly breathed "mm hmm," at the suggestion, so I dove into action. I had previously tried to assess the situation to no avail. "Are you scared?" "No." "Are you hurt?" "No." "Are you lonely?" "No." "Are you hungry?" "No." "Tell me what's the matter, sweetie." "No." So, I had to pull the chocolate out of my bag. "Mm hmm." Yes! A "yes!" Quick! Somebody get me the Nutella!
The anticipation of a gooey chocolate sandwich apparently did some magic, because I'd no sooner put my knife to work when Isaac cracked a giddy smile and said, "You're happy, Mom!" He ate his sandwich in his typical solemn demeanor. I took the opportunity to change Elijah's diaper and as I turned toward the trash can, I stubbed my toe, yelping a little in pain. Isaac exploded in laughter. Enjoy, Captain Schadenfreude. This one's on me.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Veggie Table
I've been trying the participation method of garnering the boys' interest in veggies. I find them a job to do in hopes that they will want to eat what they helped make. It's been successful with at least the first bite.
I planned some steak and veggie skewers for the grill and thought up the perfect jobs for the boys. They helped wash a bowl full of peppers and mushrooms and then I set them at the table and assigned their next job. I gave Isaac a basting brush and a small bowl of seasoned olive oil and told him to "paint" the veggies. I gave Ian a pack of wooden skewers and demonstrated how to fill them with veggies. I figured they might have that done by the time I sliced and skewered the steak. As I assembled my last steak skewer, Ian proudly announced, "Look, Mom! I made a scarecrow!" Sure enough, he had made Tinker Toys of the sticks and veggies and had built a tall stick man. I wish my hands had not been all meaty and I had caught a picture of it.
Today I gave each of the boys a baggie of crackers to crush. I figured they'd love that destructive job. I showed them how they could squeeze them and pound them into small crumbles. I put some pecans in the food processor and turned to check their progress. I saw two little boys happily munching on crackers.
They left me speechless with our snack yesterday. I sliced up some red, yellow, and orange sweet chilis and set them on the table with a bowl of hummus. I called it a rainbow snack. They actually ate it. The peppers - multiple peppers - went into their mouths and were summarily chewed and swallowed. Miracles happen.
Ian has reached a new level of independence. For some reason, now it is OK to try new foods or previously snubbed foods. He even gets up and completely dresses himself. I'm loving this phase. Well, most of it. The other evening, after our nightly insistence that he try to pee before bed, he comes bouncing back into the bedroom, looking like Pooh Bear, with nothing more than a shirt and a permanently sticky face. I requested, "Ian? Can you get some undies?" He replied, "I can bark like a dog," and "woofed" on out of the room.
I planned some steak and veggie skewers for the grill and thought up the perfect jobs for the boys. They helped wash a bowl full of peppers and mushrooms and then I set them at the table and assigned their next job. I gave Isaac a basting brush and a small bowl of seasoned olive oil and told him to "paint" the veggies. I gave Ian a pack of wooden skewers and demonstrated how to fill them with veggies. I figured they might have that done by the time I sliced and skewered the steak. As I assembled my last steak skewer, Ian proudly announced, "Look, Mom! I made a scarecrow!" Sure enough, he had made Tinker Toys of the sticks and veggies and had built a tall stick man. I wish my hands had not been all meaty and I had caught a picture of it.
Today I gave each of the boys a baggie of crackers to crush. I figured they'd love that destructive job. I showed them how they could squeeze them and pound them into small crumbles. I put some pecans in the food processor and turned to check their progress. I saw two little boys happily munching on crackers.
They left me speechless with our snack yesterday. I sliced up some red, yellow, and orange sweet chilis and set them on the table with a bowl of hummus. I called it a rainbow snack. They actually ate it. The peppers - multiple peppers - went into their mouths and were summarily chewed and swallowed. Miracles happen.
Ian has reached a new level of independence. For some reason, now it is OK to try new foods or previously snubbed foods. He even gets up and completely dresses himself. I'm loving this phase. Well, most of it. The other evening, after our nightly insistence that he try to pee before bed, he comes bouncing back into the bedroom, looking like Pooh Bear, with nothing more than a shirt and a permanently sticky face. I requested, "Ian? Can you get some undies?" He replied, "I can bark like a dog," and "woofed" on out of the room.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
What's another word for hindsight?
I know, I know. I'm slacking. I'm also typing with a crippled keyboard, which is part of the reason I'm slacking, so if I miss a G, H, or ', it's not that I can't spell. My superduper awesome sister is my laptop supplier. I'm so stoked about this recent addition. I looks really slick, but is a little alphabetically challenged. So, while I await my new keyboard delivery, I meticulously copy and paste "G"s, "H"s and """s into my compositions. I also engage in Elmer Fudd-ish exercises of thesaurus-fishing for non-G and -H-containing synonyms.
My second excuse for my blog tardiness is I'm simply trying to remain conscious. This third-trimester stuff is exhausting. I'm about 2.5 weeks out from my due date. I feel like I could turn just a certain way and my legs would fall out of my hip sockets and collapse to the floor. I pour Maalox on my cereal each morning. My meals and breaths could fit in a shot glass together. I keep reminding myself this is the easy part.
Ian's really quite an empathetic fella'. At my last prenatal visit, the office was unusually crowded and Ian and another boy ended up frequently vying for use of a particular truck. At one point, the other boy became distracted with another toy, then got put in 'time out' by his mother for something while Ian enthusiastically enjoyed some peace with 'his' favorite truck. He was crying on the floor next to a couch. Ian observed the boy for a moment & came over to Brian and I and started talking about the boy being sad, and why he thought he was sad. Then he walked over to the boy, crouched down, and handed him the prized truck, trying fairly successfully to help the boy feel happy again. I was pretty impressed.
He frequently asks me "What's the matter?" or gently requests that I not feel mad. He likes to play games with making faces or pretending to express a certain emotion. He's lately gotten into defending his little brother. He will say to us, "Igick doesn't want his teeth brushed. Don't make baby sad." He's pretty good, for a little guy, about using "I feel" statements.
Ian is apparently also a Discovery Channel junkie. Yesterday, he told me he wanted to watch Adam and Jamie (Mythbusters). I didn't know he knew them. This evening as I was cooking, he was singing the Boom-da-yada song Discovery had on its commercials.
I may have mentioned this before, but Ian has a perpetual Christmas spirit. He always has a song in his heart - mainly Jingle Bells, and loves any occasion for celebration. Isaac jumps right in on it too. I could learn a lot from these guys. They fill any room with such joy and enthusiasm and infectious laughter.
Isaac is a little mimicker. He repeats what he hears with astonishing accuracy and clarity. I think he has remarkable diction at times. He's taking full advantage of having an older brother to learn all sorts of mischief from.
I'm so curious to see how the dynamics change with #3. I can't imagine a more fun world than raising these little boys.
My second excuse for my blog tardiness is I'm simply trying to remain conscious. This third-trimester stuff is exhausting. I'm about 2.5 weeks out from my due date. I feel like I could turn just a certain way and my legs would fall out of my hip sockets and collapse to the floor. I pour Maalox on my cereal each morning. My meals and breaths could fit in a shot glass together. I keep reminding myself this is the easy part.
Ian's really quite an empathetic fella'. At my last prenatal visit, the office was unusually crowded and Ian and another boy ended up frequently vying for use of a particular truck. At one point, the other boy became distracted with another toy, then got put in 'time out' by his mother for something while Ian enthusiastically enjoyed some peace with 'his' favorite truck. He was crying on the floor next to a couch. Ian observed the boy for a moment & came over to Brian and I and started talking about the boy being sad, and why he thought he was sad. Then he walked over to the boy, crouched down, and handed him the prized truck, trying fairly successfully to help the boy feel happy again. I was pretty impressed.
He frequently asks me "What's the matter?" or gently requests that I not feel mad. He likes to play games with making faces or pretending to express a certain emotion. He's lately gotten into defending his little brother. He will say to us, "Igick doesn't want his teeth brushed. Don't make baby sad." He's pretty good, for a little guy, about using "I feel" statements.
Ian is apparently also a Discovery Channel junkie. Yesterday, he told me he wanted to watch Adam and Jamie (Mythbusters). I didn't know he knew them. This evening as I was cooking, he was singing the Boom-da-yada song Discovery had on its commercials.
I may have mentioned this before, but Ian has a perpetual Christmas spirit. He always has a song in his heart - mainly Jingle Bells, and loves any occasion for celebration. Isaac jumps right in on it too. I could learn a lot from these guys. They fill any room with such joy and enthusiasm and infectious laughter.
Isaac is a little mimicker. He repeats what he hears with astonishing accuracy and clarity. I think he has remarkable diction at times. He's taking full advantage of having an older brother to learn all sorts of mischief from.
I'm so curious to see how the dynamics change with #3. I can't imagine a more fun world than raising these little boys.
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