Beautiful Feet

Today is a day I've been dreaming about for at least 5 years. Our tenants moved out leaving us in full possession of our entire 100+ year old house and it's three stories. I've been dreaming about the space, not so much their leaving. They were amazing, considerate and responsible tenants. When I moved into the house their daughter was 5 months old. Their kitchen was below the room that was my bedroom at the time. I remember sitting on the floor of my bedroom and listening to her happy baby giggles. You know, the belly laugh kind of giggles that are so contagious and can make you smile, even on your worst days. Later I listened as she started talking and would exclaim: "Oh NO!" over and over again when prompted. I've remembered those times fondly as Will has gone through the belly laughing stage and when, on groundhog day he learned to say: Oh NO!" with his hands to his cheeks. Now their daughter is a beautiful 7 year old. She started 1st grade this year, and it's hard to believe how much time has gone by. She is willowy and all smiles with pale, blond hair reaching well down to her thighs. Her blue eyes sparkle when she tells me about school and her summer reading.

Will and Zoe discovered each other as play mates one snowy day this past January. Ironically, it was the same day that we reluctantly asked Zoe's parents to plan to move out by the end of June. Zoe was making snow balls for a snow man, and Will thought it was fun to knock down the snow man and eat the snow. So she started making snow balls for him to eat instead. Through the remainder of the winter he talked about Zoe whenever he would eat snow.

Zoe and Will

Z&W

This evening we walked the few blocks to Baskin Robbins for an after-dinner treat. We invited Zoe to come along. Will held her hand and walked the whole way. I brought the stroller because he's never walked that far before - but he was so enamored at holding her hand that the walk was no challenge for him. By the time we got back Zoe's parents had finished their last cleaning and were ready to give us the keys and drive away. It was a bittersweet moment for us because sadly, though we never quite got to the point where we would call them friends, we'll miss having them as tenants. And I'll miss seeing Zoe and Will play together making stone soup and playing tag around the yard.

After we waved as they drove down the street we eagerly ran inside to inspect the first floor of our house. New space with big plans for more room in which to entertain and live life as a family. I told Will that this is 'Will's house' now. Later up on the second and third floor which has always been the cramped space called 'Will's house', he pointed down to the floor and said: "Will's house down there." I guess it didn't take as long as I expected for him to get used to the concept that that space is no longer Zoe's house.

Fondly Remembered

"Good Grief!"

This is the phrase Will learned this weekend and he walks around the house exclaiming: "Good Geef! Papa broke the chair!" Then erupting into fits of giggles. The kiddo cracks himself up. The story behind the joke is very simply that Uncle Ian probably needs some new kitchen chairs. Papa was mindful of this and didn't grab the broken part of the chair but the presumed sturdy part, yet the chair still fell apart, at which point he exclaimed: "Good Grief!" Will found this extremely funny.

Will also figured out how to lock Uncle Ian's bathroom door, then stand outside and pull it closed. Good thing he wasn't inside the bathroom when he closed said locked door. Daddy and Uncle Ian couldn't get it unlocked from the outside so Uncle Ian had to drive his truck around to the back and climb on the roof of the cab so he could squeeze through the window into the bathroom and unlock it from the inside.

Will is so enthralled with his Uncle Ian. Our neighborhood held a block party the same day as Will's 2nd birthday party. In the evening after we wrapped up our party they set off fireworks in the park behind our house. Will and Ian sat on the couch and looked out the window at the colorful display. Between sets Will kept asking for MORE! Ian taught him to pound on the couch and chant "Do more! Do more! Do more!" Guess what Will's other new favorite phrase has become. Last week we sat on the front porch watching an approaching thunder storm. Will's reaction to the loud booms was: "Fireworks! Uncle Ian coming?"

watching fireworks

popping cheeks of air

It feels like 2009 has been one big count down: Count down to March weekend get-away, to baby's ultrasound, to Will's 2nd bday, to June Cape May get-away, to "The Great Gregg Demolition" and finally, countdown to baby!" Even after that I have family vacation to look forward to, then many new milestones with baby number two. I often measure my life in forward glances, always looking ahead to the next big thing. I often caution myself that this is a dangerous posture because I risk missing all the special moments now if I'm too focused on then. And there may not always be something special to look forward to, though with kids, there's always something on the horizon. This is how I've always been though, so I'll continue to look forward to the next big thing, while being mindful that NOW is special, too.

US

This past weekend Sean and I enjoyed a relaxing time together in Cape May. My parents graciously took Will for the weekend and we enjoyed sleeping in and planning meals whenever we felt. We did lots of reading and walking, took in sunsets and dodged rain drops. Sean reigned victorious at Skipbo. I finished a book. We had ice cream every day. We started our christmas shopping at the cute little shops. We caught a movie Sat afternoon since the rain clouds stubbornly refused to clear away. It was a nice last fling before our family gets a little bit bigger, and before craziness starts in our house.

Will sees life through smiling eyes so much of the time. Last week after nap he fished a pot lid out of the cupboard while I put some cookies in the oven. I encouraged him to bang it with some music and make noise. A little while later I heard a sort of giggling, surprised "Ooooooohhhhhh" coming from the dining room. It's usually a sound he makes if he sees something that he thinks is neat.

Cheese In the Lid

I peeked in the doorway and found him laying on the floor under the high chair with his chin resting on the lid. He was laughing or marveling at his funny reflection in the convex surface of the lid. Imagine what was going through his head seeing this funny picture for the first time and smile.

Oooohhhh!

Sleep is going better in our house. It was a rough couple of weeks and I think the lack of sleep began catching up with us about a week ago. Today Will was trying to lay on the floor with his monkey in Old Navy as I searched for maternity shorts. (side bar-- why is it so hard to find affordable maternity clothes that fit?) In the car on the way to meet Dada for lunch he announced through a yawn: "I'm tired." Two firsts there: 1. actually admitting he's tired, and 2. talking about himself in the first person.

We gave up on the crib after the second night of him climbing out and a near miss with a fall and a bruised ankle. The crib mattress moved to the floor and we took to sitting against his door for a while until he gave up trying to open it to come out. Quite a few nights we found him in all sorts of new sleeping places. The picture below on the right is him asleep in the doorway. The others are a result of rolling around in his sleep.

I bought a special night light that can be set to red, blue, white or a changing combination of the three. I thought it would make the transition to the mattress fun. I'm not sure it really made much of a difference, though he regularly asks for it to be set to red at bedtime.

Sleep adjustment- big boy bed 002

June 7 was his second birthday, and we decided to celebrate by moving him into a big boy bed. For a special birthday surprise I purchased a set of sheets decorated with all sorts of construction vehicles. After sleeping on the mattress on the floor for two weeks the transition was pretty smooth. He likes climbing into bed and snuggling on his pillow with his monkey. He still doesn't stay in bed, and the ritual at nap and bedtime still requires someone to camp outside his door for 10 minutes to keep him from coming out of his room. He seems to want to try the door knob once or twice and if he finds the door won't open, he gives up and climbs back into bed. Even when I leave toys where he can see them, he climbs into bed and goes to sleep.

Now that he's able to get up himself, he us routinely up before 7 am. I am wondering if he was always up that early in his crib but content to lay there and talk to himself and we were ignorant of his wakefulness. We keep a gate outside his door in a spot where he can open his door and squeeze out into a little space, but venture no further. This is our way of setting a boundary and keeping him off the stairs at night. When he wakes before 7 he will come out of the door and lay down on the wood floor and wait for us to get up. I feel bad about him sleeping on the hard floor but it's not like he can't go back to bed if he's uncomfortable.

Once again I am reminded that though transitions are rocky, the stress will fade and drama will pass. I'm glad we've settled back into a good sleep routine - and just in time as baby is due in 7 weeks. I'm finding I need that extra sleep these days.

Last night was a night that will be seared into our memories for years. I am sure we'll recount this night family and friends and eventually, to Will when he becomes a parent himself. Truly, this kid has me on my knees asking our good Lord for wisdom.

Will has been a very good sleeper. He's easy to put to bed, makes no fuss, goes to sleep quickly. Naps have historically been a breeze. Of course, there were the times around 5 months when we had to let him cry for a while at nap time until he got into the routine. Then at night we had to stop getting up to give him back the pacifier when he woke up at 3 am. That took two nights of 45 minutes of crying for him to learn to go back to sleep. On the whole however, he was always a great napper compared to stories I hear from friends and coworkers.

Then over Easter weekend he learned to climb out of his crib. We disciplined him with a spanking at that point and he hadn't climbed out since. Then came Saturday when he cried bitterly at nap time and climbed out of his crib. He was so inconsolable at that point that we didn't even approach a spanking. Sunday he climbed out again, and this time we did spank him. He napped well after that. Fast forward to bed time. Sean put Will to bed and we were sitting in the living room, which is located directly below his room. With a window fan and the TV and a mild thunder storm, it was difficult to tell whether we heard a noise above us or not. A few minutes later, this little boy appeared in the doorway to the living room, monkey dragging behind. Spank. Back to bed. Repeat. Spank again. Back to bed. Repeat. This time he had pants in his hands so we wondered if the shorts-no-shirt attire was too chilly in his air conditioned room. So after a spank, we changed him to something warmer and put him back to bed. Repeat. This time he was crying and begging to be rocked. We're scratching our heads and asking ourselves what on earth could be wrong. The afore mentioned thunder storm was little more than a distant rumble, one close boom with rain, then distant rumble, and by now had died out. So we didn't consider that part of the equation, particularly given the noise of his air conditioner, noise machine and CD player playing music in his room. These are all part of his bedtime routine.

So now it's 10, he has climbed out about 5 times and begs to be rocked. I rocked him and sang a few familiar hymns, put him back down. He climbed out again. We adopted Super Nanny tactics and put him back to bed with no attention, no words, no nothing. His door opens into our room and 3 feet away is the top of the stairs. We began to worry about him falling down the stairs at night and schemed to wedge a gate just outside his door in a space where his door couldn't open all the way, and if he tries to climb over the gate, he wouldn't fall down the stairs. He continued climbing out of the crib every few minutes and crying for almost an hour. I remember seeing 11:45 on my clock. I stopped looking after that. He finally gave up or fell asleep...

Until 4:30 am. The process started all over again and we had to put him back to bed at least 6 times before he went back to sleep. Then again at 6:30am. We have finally put a pillow on the floor in his room and said that if he wakes up, he can lay on the pillow and sleep.

Let me just say that because of space limitations, a big boy bed is not an option. It's not really a solution because we're concerned about the safety of him climbing out, and then falling down the stairs if he climbs out safely. If we can't keep him in a crib, how can we keep him in a bed. But even deeper, he's slept in this crib for almost two years. He plays sleep during the day, he asks for nap time at lunch time. He has always slept well. There has been no major change or trauma in his life. Short of a possible night terror, WHAT IS GOING ON with this child? By just putting him back to bed, are we just addressing symptoms of a deeper issue?

Our pastor has been preaching through the book of James and we had a great sermon on prayer last night. So I am reminded that it is promised that if anyone lacks wisdom he should pray. Believe me, I have been whispering a prayer all night. I'm also clinging to promises found in Isaiah 40 that God will "gently lead those with young". I would still be grateful for any insight that anyone could offer, and I look forward laughing about this in the years to come and sharing the answers and solutions we found.

Will is always good for a big belly laugh and a smile, ear-to-ear. Ever the performer he is always on the lookout for a chance to show off and ham it up. In the grocery store he has taken to calling my name loud - pushing it so hard that his face turns red and he shakes with the effort. This is no tantrum because as I turn in alarm to see what the problem could be, he sits there in the front seat of the cart with a big, cheesy grin. Meals with any person in addition to myself or Daddy is another chance to shine. He makes goofy noises or practices all his big words, perhaps lobs some food on the floor and then throws his head back and laughs with an (almost) evil Mwa-hah-hah! Last week at Daddy's coworker's BBQ he exercised this move, living up to his "My name is Trouble" shirt. Monday morning brought a recap of the evening and our host mused that Will is a hoot and a little devil.

He is doing better about sitting with us through church without too much ruckus. I confess that I have resorted to raisins as a quiet snack to keep him entertained through the sermon. Our thoughts on keeping him in the service at such a young age is fodder for another blog post. Last Sunday at the end of the service, we took a special offering for the youth group mission trip. I thought it would be good to let him put our contribution into the plate as it passed. I learned a valuable lesson. First I struggled to get him to let go of the apparently fascinating green paper. Then as I wrenched his little fingers open, he let rip with "Monnnneeeeeeeeeeeeyyyyyyyyyyyy!" Much in the same manner that he yells  "Mommyyyyyyyyyyy!" in the grocery store. As he yelled this, and I wrenched his hands off the money I intended to give, he grabbed another handful of even larger bills from the plate and continued to yell: "Moneeeeeeeeyyyyy!" As I'm sure you can imagine, people aroud us began to chuckle and Sean and I were helpless to keep ourselves serious enough to make him stop. He realized he had an audience and he was playing it up! I did eventually pry the billls from his grip and pass the plate along, and got him to quiet down long enough to catch my breath and tell him no. We got lots of comments later regarding our education of him and his priorities.

Sean recently learned a valuable lesson regarding mischevious curious little boys and vegetables. I was working so Daddy and Will were on their own for supper. Will happily gobbled the lasagna, but refused the string beans. Both boys refused to back down and Daddy was determined that Will would sit in that chair until the beans were gone. He left Will with one bean and got up to clear his plate to the kitchen. He came back and the bean was gone. Thinking it a small victory he offered Will another bean. Will shook his head and responded with: "Bean in da nose". Some vigorous nose blowing produced one little bean fragment and 5 minutes later when Will repeated his phrase, more nose-blowing produced another bean fragment from the other nostril.

Valuable lessone learned. Many laughs enjoyed.

Will is excited about the concept of a baby in my tummy. His nightly routine includes lifting my shirt to kiss the baby, then he slides down in my lap so he can lay with his arms around the belly and say good night to the baby. I used to tell him there was a boo-boo in my belly because he was so into poking my belly button. Hard. But he's moved past that and knows to be gentle with the belly.

Last week Will wandered into our bedroom while Sean and I were sitting and talking. When we went to hunt for him we found him in front of the mirror with his shirt lifted up, sticking his belly out towards the mirror saying "baby tummy." Yesterday he announced at the play ground that there was a baby in his tummy. His little 3 year-old play mate has a 6 week old sister at home. So he corrected Will that the baby was in mommy's tummy and that his baby was out of his mommy's tummy.

Kids and their minds. Fascinating!

In the blossoms

All of a sudden I am 6 and-a-half months pregnant. In the midst of that awful first trimester when I became the worse version of myself, I swore that the end of the yuckiness would never arrive. Just to drag myself out of bed and muster a smile, let alone cheerful interaction with a boy who deserves nothing less than my most tenacious love was such a chore. Then the 16th week came and I haven't looked back. It's been relatively smooth sailing with this pregnancy after the first 15 weeks, and for that I am profoundly grateful. Looking back over this blog I realize I wrote a lot more about my pregnancy with Will than I have with this one. Sorry New Baby. I guess I've been spending more of my time napping and playing trucks this time then I did last time.

Digger Day

See the Digger!

We visited my sister and her husband in their new house in MD this weekend. Will had a great time with "Tanta Sa" and "Nate!". Their poor cat wasn't a big fan of the grabby little hands, but then again, he's pretty much a one-family cat and didn't seem thrilled with Sean either. Parked in the backyard next to Nate and Melissa was, that's right, a digger. So first thing each morning, Will trotted over to his window and yelled at the top of his lungs, "Di-diiiiii!"

Naps didn't really go very smoothly over the weekend. We drove down in the afternoon during nap time. No nap. Then Saturday and Sunday in the steamy heat wave nap only occurred after a drawn out process of wiggling and throwing out monkey and passey and blanket and lifting up the pack-and-plat mattress... He almost didn't sleep when we drove home late Sunday evening. Thank goodness he did give up the fight and shortly after Baltimore he drifted off.

I noticed this weekend how much Will's imagination is exploding and changing his play. For instance, I had to change his monkey 10 times in the car in the first hour of our trip because his "butt is poopey." I was directed when to "get a wipe" and when to put "pants on". In the nursery at church I sat and watched as he decided a certain toy was a soap dispenser and brought it over to the play sink to wash his hands and his doll's hands. Then the babies had to go to "sleep-sleep" on the bottom shelf of the changing table. The older woman who was watching the children in the nursery was so inspired by his creative sleeping place for the dolls that she rearranged the changing table to make that bottom shelf a bed for the dolls. I'm loving watching him play and it never ceases to surprise me when he decides to feed the cow, or tell the puppy to listen while I read a story.

Something else he's doing is singing more. Jesus Loves Me is the song he sings and he's finally starting to move past the "Dee-dah, Dee-dah, Bibo-bibo-bibo". This morning when I trailed off, he filled in the blank with "this I know!". And he's taking on a cute cadence with his voice, too. It's sort of a high-pitched, soft whine - yet not annoying as a whine would be, more cute like he's talking to a baby. He first used the voice when he said "I dunno!" in response to Sean's question about when he was going to poop. He talks to himself a lot when he wakes up from a nap, and I often hear him start Jesus Loves Me in his limited phrases.

Spring is here, and I am thrilled. Even though everything is covered by a dull film of yellow pollen, my eyes love to dance around between the emerald greens of the grass and leaves and vibrant pink of the cherry blossoms and panseys. The Azaleas are on the verge of splashing forth their color and even the dandelions provide welcome color after the dull grey of winter. I don't know if I'll get to a vegetable garden this summer. Time and energy as well as the difficulties time spent bent over a pregnant belly seem to be stacked against me. I will however get flowers planted. I have ordered flats of impatients, begonias and petunias and am forming a master plan for my beds and hanging baskets. Just as Will thrives on his diggers and trucks, I thrive on the growing color all around me.

In the blossoms

Following in Uncle Ian's pattern, Will has developed a pattern of speech much like he developed his wave: in mirror fashion. He used to wave with his palm facing himself. This makes sense when you stop to consider that he learned by watching us. What do you see when you wave to yourself in the mirror? So in similar mirror fashion when asking to be carried or tickled or rocked, Will says "rock you." I guess he has heard me say: "Do you want me to carry you?" and assimilated it into his vocabulary in that way. It's fasintating to watch his language develop, and makes me smile to watch him put these things together.

Sean and I both pause to mourn and applaud the advances in his speech. Last week I realized that his little scottish accent had disappeared when he says "sit down." It used to sound like "sit DOON" and we have no idea where he picked up this isolated scottish slant, but we loved it. Sean loved to attribute it to his scotch-irish roots.

His S sounds a little lispy, especially when saying a combination of S with another consonant, like SN or SK. Snow was the first word in which we noticed it, and today when we talked about the big bird in the sky I noted it to myself again. Speaking of big and small, Will uses his body for expression with certain words. When telling me of something big, it is closed fists and tight muscles shaking as he says in exagerated largess: "Biiiiiig!"

He's putting names into context very well, though still gets mixed up on the names of his various grandmothers. Most often he refers to them both as "Mimi", though we try to refer to my mom as Grammy, and used to refer to Sean's mom as Grandma. Sean's mom has become attached to Will's name for her, so now we call her mimi. Then there's the grandfathers and great grandmothers to name too... it's a wonder he can learn it when I get tongue tied myself! He usually refers to my dad's mom as "Mimi Miff". His usually defaults to "Omah" when looking at a picture of my mom's mom. The grandpas are both "Papa" to him. The Aunts are called Tante, though he has dubbed one as Tante 'Sa (that's my sister, Melissa). Tante Kailyn is usually just "Kayin" and the uncles are just Nate, Dan and I!. Since Tante Heather lives to far away, we always point to the chain of cranes she bought him in Japan and say hi to Tante Heather. Last week I was thrilled that he pointed to that chain and then the reindeer from Norway and camel from Mongolia and said: "Tante Hiyah!" Sean was thrilled too and arranged for a video chat with her so Sean could show off his speech to his world travelling aunt.

Of course, I have to mention that he knows the difference between a digger, dump truck, front end loader and back hoe. I wouldn't even know the difference, but he has learned well from all the library books which we read over-and-over-and-over-and-over... His pronunciation of dump truck sounds more like "Dit-Tun", even though he says dump by itself just fine.

I wish I had written here about his developing speech sooner, because I know there's so much I'm forgetting even now - things he said in "Willish" and now says in a version a little closer to english. For the time being, I like being one of the few people in the world who speak Willish and feel a little spark of pride when I translate for people so they can step into his world.