See that "Follow This Blog" link over there on the right? That's for you.
That's right. Come on and follow me. Think of it as sending a big high-five out to the Rock Rock Silly universe. If you have a blogger profile, your picture (or lack of picture, (ahem, that means you, writer of Gradual Instant)) and link to your profile goes up right over there, and Rock Rock Silly updates will appear in your Reading List on your Dashboard. If you have a Google Reader account the updates will appear there.
Or you can lurk invisibly in the Rock Rock Silly universe. How? Well, you can click the "Follow this Blog" link, but choose to follow it anonymously. Then neither your picture or link to your profile will appear on Rock Rock Silly. It will just be your little secret. But you'll still get updates in your Reading List on your Dashboard or in your Google Reader account.
That's all. Wasn't that easy?
Monday, September 29, 2008
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Staying Inside
We've gotten out every day this week, and today I remembered why that was a good idea.
First of all, Jett ate breakfast for two hours this morning. That's right, he sat in his highchair for two hours eating breakfast - because he wanted to. First he drank a smoothie I made for him out of frozen blueberries and milk. Then he ate cereal the way he requested it - three kinds in one bowl. Then, because by then I was standing in the kitchen prepping food for lunch, he ate a bowl of sweet potatoes. Then he drank a cup of water. That took two hours and 10 books, which I read to him, because reading is better than tearing my hair out.
Now a breakfast like that pretty much guarantees two more diaper changes before lunch, which is a huge hassle because you never know if it's going to be an easy diaper change or a difficult one. An easy one is one that, if you are willing to change Jett's diaper wherever he is willing to lay down (on my bed, on his bed, on the living room carpet, on his carpet, on the kitchen floor, in the crib, etc.) he will only kick you once, he will only roll on to his stomach once, and you probably won't get any poop on your hands. A difficult one is full-on screaming, wild thrashing, and the understanding afterwards that if you don't want to contaminate the rest of your house, you have to take a shower.
We started out his diaper change on the good path, but quickly turned the corner to difficult. When I had to follow through on my threat to relocate him from his bedroom floor to the changing table, it became nearly impossible.
Then he noticed the open container of wipes.
Then I shut the container of wipes.
Then he screamed his fool head off.
I opened the wipes.
And then he spent the next five minutes - I'm not exaggerating - trying to close the box of wipes.
Push. Pop open.
Push, half click, pop open.
Push. Pop open. Pop open. Pop open. Pop open. Pop. Pop. Pop.
I stood next to the changing table, gritted my teeth, and screamed silently for five minutes because oh my god if I help him close that lid he is going to scream his fool head off and I don't even have his diaper on him yet, but if I don't help him with that lid I am going to stand here and go insane. Click the lid! Click the lid! Click the lid! Your pinky is not strong enough to click the lid! Use your index finger! Your thumb! Your fist! Quit trying to balance the box of wipes on the edge of the changing table, it needs to be stable, it needs more resistance. Just put it flat on the table and pound the lid down. No, haven't you figured out that your pinky is not strong enough to click the lid? Oh my god, there is no way you are going to get it closed with your toe. Just use your hand and CLICK THE LID!!! I'm losing ten years of my life standing next to this changing table and screaming silently at my child.
Click.
Victory. The rest of the diaper change was easy as pie.
Then I threw away the wipes.
I didn't know that he wanted to throw away the wipes.
I didn't know that "Don't jump on Kai" translates to "Go ahead, do it one more time for good measure." I didn't know.
I did know that this morning when he woke up his sheet was full of pee. But then it was nap time; the pee had dried. Kai was crying. Jett was Ready for his nap, and Ready is fleeting. Oh so fleeting.
Kai was crying. The sheet was dry. Jett was ready.
The sheet stayed. Tomorrow we will get outside.
First of all, Jett ate breakfast for two hours this morning. That's right, he sat in his highchair for two hours eating breakfast - because he wanted to. First he drank a smoothie I made for him out of frozen blueberries and milk. Then he ate cereal the way he requested it - three kinds in one bowl. Then, because by then I was standing in the kitchen prepping food for lunch, he ate a bowl of sweet potatoes. Then he drank a cup of water. That took two hours and 10 books, which I read to him, because reading is better than tearing my hair out.
Now a breakfast like that pretty much guarantees two more diaper changes before lunch, which is a huge hassle because you never know if it's going to be an easy diaper change or a difficult one. An easy one is one that, if you are willing to change Jett's diaper wherever he is willing to lay down (on my bed, on his bed, on the living room carpet, on his carpet, on the kitchen floor, in the crib, etc.) he will only kick you once, he will only roll on to his stomach once, and you probably won't get any poop on your hands. A difficult one is full-on screaming, wild thrashing, and the understanding afterwards that if you don't want to contaminate the rest of your house, you have to take a shower.
We started out his diaper change on the good path, but quickly turned the corner to difficult. When I had to follow through on my threat to relocate him from his bedroom floor to the changing table, it became nearly impossible.
Then he noticed the open container of wipes.
Then I shut the container of wipes.
Then he screamed his fool head off.
I opened the wipes.
And then he spent the next five minutes - I'm not exaggerating - trying to close the box of wipes.
Push. Pop open.
Push, half click, pop open.
Push. Pop open. Pop open. Pop open. Pop open. Pop. Pop. Pop.
I stood next to the changing table, gritted my teeth, and screamed silently for five minutes because oh my god if I help him close that lid he is going to scream his fool head off and I don't even have his diaper on him yet, but if I don't help him with that lid I am going to stand here and go insane. Click the lid! Click the lid! Click the lid! Your pinky is not strong enough to click the lid! Use your index finger! Your thumb! Your fist! Quit trying to balance the box of wipes on the edge of the changing table, it needs to be stable, it needs more resistance. Just put it flat on the table and pound the lid down. No, haven't you figured out that your pinky is not strong enough to click the lid? Oh my god, there is no way you are going to get it closed with your toe. Just use your hand and CLICK THE LID!!! I'm losing ten years of my life standing next to this changing table and screaming silently at my child.
Click.
Victory. The rest of the diaper change was easy as pie.
Then I threw away the wipes.
I didn't know that he wanted to throw away the wipes.
I didn't know that "Don't jump on Kai" translates to "Go ahead, do it one more time for good measure." I didn't know.
I did know that this morning when he woke up his sheet was full of pee. But then it was nap time; the pee had dried. Kai was crying. Jett was Ready for his nap, and Ready is fleeting. Oh so fleeting.
Kai was crying. The sheet was dry. Jett was ready.
The sheet stayed. Tomorrow we will get outside.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Four Months
Hello Sweet Kai, and Happy Birthday. A few days ago all 15 pounds and three ounces (26 inches) of you turned four months old.
Four months. Sixteen weeks, or so. It doesn't seem like a long time to be in the world, but I think you've been with us forever.
You and I started taking a baby yoga class this month. It's called Itsy Bitsy Yoga, and I don't know, it's not really what I expected. It's...well...it's...it's so yoga-ie.
When Jett was a baby I took him to this wonderful baby yoga class. It was a pain to get to this class, and required walking up a huge flight of stairs with that heavy car seat, but it was worth it because I felt so good during the class - we felt so good during the class. Why did I like that class better?
Is it because I started taking Jett when he was only 6 weeks old? He was the youngest baby in class for a while. The younger the baby, the more attention the baby gets from the other mothers. Maybe that's it. (Did I just say I liked Jett's class better because he got more attention? How embarrassing). You are the second oldest in your class, and when compared to the four week old who was there last week, your newness factor - that mysterious, magical newborn aura, is wearing off. But not to me. When the other mothers talk to me about their babies, I find myself thinking, how can you even talk to me when I am holding Kai? How can you do anything but stare at his cute face? Are you not awed in to silence and reverence by my sweet baby? Will you just join me in admiring my baby for a while? He is still so new!
Maybe our class feels different because we go on Sunday, instead of Friday. Fridays were special for me, because after Jett was born I stopped working on Fridays. Fridays were stolen days, free days, and the fact that Jett and I had a whole day together, after four days of going to work, was something to treasure. But you and I are together every day. While it is wonderful to spend an hour of guided, uninterrupted time with you, it's additional time we have to ourselves, not the only time we have to ourselves. Maybe that's it. We're too fortunate, perhps.
Or maybe it's the class. It's so chant-y. No itsy bitsy spider (ironically). Less hugging, more stretching; less singing, more chanting. Oh that monotonous, two-tone chanting. Where is the sweetness in that? No lullaby at the end, when all I really want to do is lay down next to you, sing you a song, and memorize your smiles.
Still, you smile a lot in class, and that is why we keep going.
If you keep smiling, I'll keep chanting. We love you, Baby Kai. Namaste.
Four months. Sixteen weeks, or so. It doesn't seem like a long time to be in the world, but I think you've been with us forever.
You and I started taking a baby yoga class this month. It's called Itsy Bitsy Yoga, and I don't know, it's not really what I expected. It's...well...it's...it's so yoga-ie.
When Jett was a baby I took him to this wonderful baby yoga class. It was a pain to get to this class, and required walking up a huge flight of stairs with that heavy car seat, but it was worth it because I felt so good during the class - we felt so good during the class. Why did I like that class better?
Is it because I started taking Jett when he was only 6 weeks old? He was the youngest baby in class for a while. The younger the baby, the more attention the baby gets from the other mothers. Maybe that's it. (Did I just say I liked Jett's class better because he got more attention? How embarrassing). You are the second oldest in your class, and when compared to the four week old who was there last week, your newness factor - that mysterious, magical newborn aura, is wearing off. But not to me. When the other mothers talk to me about their babies, I find myself thinking, how can you even talk to me when I am holding Kai? How can you do anything but stare at his cute face? Are you not awed in to silence and reverence by my sweet baby? Will you just join me in admiring my baby for a while? He is still so new!
Maybe our class feels different because we go on Sunday, instead of Friday. Fridays were special for me, because after Jett was born I stopped working on Fridays. Fridays were stolen days, free days, and the fact that Jett and I had a whole day together, after four days of going to work, was something to treasure. But you and I are together every day. While it is wonderful to spend an hour of guided, uninterrupted time with you, it's additional time we have to ourselves, not the only time we have to ourselves. Maybe that's it. We're too fortunate, perhps.
Or maybe it's the class. It's so chant-y. No itsy bitsy spider (ironically). Less hugging, more stretching; less singing, more chanting. Oh that monotonous, two-tone chanting. Where is the sweetness in that? No lullaby at the end, when all I really want to do is lay down next to you, sing you a song, and memorize your smiles.
Still, you smile a lot in class, and that is why we keep going.
If you keep smiling, I'll keep chanting. We love you, Baby Kai. Namaste.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Grass
Forward: He might not make the connection between being inside and using your inside voice, but throw him in a tractor, and things start to come together.
............................................
A few days ago Jett, Kai, and I spent the morning at the Museum of Science and Industry. We walked all through the el car. We were wowed by the airplanes. We watched the trains from above and below. Then, then, THEN WE CLIMBED UP INTO A TRACTOR.
Woah.
While we waited in line to drive the tractor, we watched a very short video of a tractor mowing grass. I didn't realize how closely Jett was watching the video, and I didn't know if he would make the connection between the tractor in the video and the GIANT TRACTOR HE WAS NOW DRIVING.
Woah.
But I know he made the connection, because he climbed in to that driver's seat and without any prompting from me...
signed "grass".
............................................
A few days ago Jett, Kai, and I spent the morning at the Museum of Science and Industry. We walked all through the el car. We were wowed by the airplanes. We watched the trains from above and below. Then, then, THEN WE CLIMBED UP INTO A TRACTOR.
Woah.
While we waited in line to drive the tractor, we watched a very short video of a tractor mowing grass. I didn't realize how closely Jett was watching the video, and I didn't know if he would make the connection between the tractor in the video and the GIANT TRACTOR HE WAS NOW DRIVING.
Woah.
But I know he made the connection, because he climbed in to that driver's seat and without any prompting from me...
signed "grass".
Friday, September 19, 2008
Rain
The other day we let Jett go outside to play in the rain. After getting him in his rain gear, I immediately regretted volunteering to stay inside and volunteering Charlie to go outside.
Kai and I watched from our third floor window. Our eyes followed that speck of yellow as it splashed and jumped and ran all over the schoolyard across the street. Even when we couldn't see him, we saw his yellow reflection glowing in the puddles.
Kai and I watched from our third floor window. Our eyes followed that speck of yellow as it splashed and jumped and ran all over the schoolyard across the street. Even when we couldn't see him, we saw his yellow reflection glowing in the puddles.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Fish
Jett asks to see fish almost on a daily basis. Sometimes the easiest thing to do is drive on over to Petco and gawk at theirs.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Kai Really Does Look Like Charlie
And look where Jett got his good looks. Or at least his good bangs. Look at those bangs. We have bangs to be proud of, Jett and I.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Handsome
Lately Jett and I have both been taking extra notice of his appearance. In my case, I finally decided to get his hair cut. In Jett's case, he decided to start picking out his own clothes.
Now I've always enjoyed a head of crazy kid hair, and I love Jett's hair unruly and curly. As a mom, loving crazy-kid-hair is a huge benefit because I rarely feel the urge to comb his hair, and that is one less argument to run through in our daily menu of arguments.
I've trimmed the back, but that's it. I just love the wings!
But it was getting a little long on the sides and in the front, so Jenny and I took the cousins to Kidsnips, the toy store that oh, by the way, will cut your kid's hair too, while they sit in a kid-sized-car, watching a video of their choice, while you go buy that toy school bus, and that toy car, and oh yeah, that toy ball too.
Jett did a great job. He sat quietly, clutching the toy school bus that I ended up buying him.
This is what he wore.
You might not notice that he has three shirts on. Thankfully the mismatched shoe phase only lasted one day. The socks with sandals phase lasted a bit longer. This week he is wearing his bumblebee rain boots everywhere. And because I'm still not brushing his hair, it is still nice and crazy.
Remember when he didn't have any hair?
Now I've always enjoyed a head of crazy kid hair, and I love Jett's hair unruly and curly. As a mom, loving crazy-kid-hair is a huge benefit because I rarely feel the urge to comb his hair, and that is one less argument to run through in our daily menu of arguments.
I've trimmed the back, but that's it. I just love the wings!
But it was getting a little long on the sides and in the front, so Jenny and I took the cousins to Kidsnips, the toy store that oh, by the way, will cut your kid's hair too, while they sit in a kid-sized-car, watching a video of their choice, while you go buy that toy school bus, and that toy car, and oh yeah, that toy ball too.
Jett did a great job. He sat quietly, clutching the toy school bus that I ended up buying him.
This is what he wore.
You might not notice that he has three shirts on. Thankfully the mismatched shoe phase only lasted one day. The socks with sandals phase lasted a bit longer. This week he is wearing his bumblebee rain boots everywhere. And because I'm still not brushing his hair, it is still nice and crazy.
Remember when he didn't have any hair?
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Question:
Is an hour and eighteen minutes too long to leave your two year old in his room to nap, even though he hasn't fallen asleep yet? He is (lazily) calling for you at regular intervals. But then again, he's not crying. And his brother just fell asleep.
Why is he not falling asleep?
Can I not get just a few minutes today when both of them are sleeping?
Go to sleep!
Why is he not falling asleep?
Can I not get just a few minutes today when both of them are sleeping?
Go to sleep!
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Three Months
Happy Birthday, Kai! You turned three months old almost two weeks ago!
Why has it taken me so long to write your birthday post? Because it is more fun to play with you than type on the computer. The blog is moving further and further down the priority list, no matter how badly I want to record every detail of your day.
But now Jett is sleeping and you are sitting in my lap, and it seems like a good time to recap the last 30 or so days.
What a monumental month this one has been. You are growing, babe. You're all grown out of your 0-3 month clothes, and you moved in to the size 2 diapers. Even your little socks - the only socks that stayed on your feet for the first three months - are now too small and now no socks stay on your feet. It's summer, so this wouldn't be an issue, except I seem to have handed down to you my feet. Like me, your feet always need to be covered or they get cold and clammy. I'm sorry to paint a less than desirable picture of your perfect little feet, but it's just the plain truth.
But let's move on up to your head, or namely, your neck. That strong little neck. You're doing a pretty good job of holding your head up now. Sometimes I put you in the sling or the Baby Bjorn and turn your back to my belly so you are facing out. When I do that you turn your head from side to side, looking left, right, and back again, taking it all in. What captured your attention most on our last walk, was the brick walls on the houses we walked by. I don't know why you were so enthralled with the red brick walls, but you were, and you kept your head turned to the houses and your eyes riveted on the walls as we walked past. I found this to be a relief from the constant turning of your head on my chest, which I think is going to leave a bruise on my sternum. But that's ok. I love to see you look around.
Now let's talk about drool. You are drooling all the time. Even though I don't like the look of a bib on a baby who isn't eating, I've had to disregard my fashion sense and put a bib on you every day, otherwise I have to change your shirt every hour or so because it is so damp from your drool. Wearing a bib is actually kind of handy, because you can put the edge of the bib in your mouth, and it gives you something to chew on besides your fingers. Bonus, the bibs (and your fingers) aren't plastic, so no need to worry about those pesky plastic chemicals we are only somewhat successful at avoiding. Maybe you will get teeth soon? Who knows.
Oh Kai, Kai with the lovely black hair. Your hair, my little friend, is falling out. It gathers in your sun hat and it clings to your sheets. I find it trapped in the little folds on your neck, and on the washcloth at bath time. You are no where near bald, and it seems to be an even fall out. I mean, you don't have any bald spots on your head. I just wonder what is going to grow in it's place? Will your new hair grow in curly and black again? Or will it give in and succumb to your parents' regular straight, brownish hair? Well, don't worry about it, sweet baby. Your hair is luscious no matter what it looks like, and so is everything else about you.
Like your smile, and those big blue eyes.
Your personality is still as calm as ever; you're the most laid back member of the family. Oh sure, you cry when you're hungry or tired or wet, but mostly you coo, smile, and squeal. Your squeals mimic Jett. If he squeals in a high-low-high pitch, you do the same. It's amazing, and if I've stepped out of the room for a minute, confusing.
Sometimes when I've been paying attention to Jett and you've been in the swing too long you'll squeal from the corner, just to remind us that you are in the room. We don't need the reminder that you are there, but sometimes I need a reminder that even you, peaceful baby, need a little more playtime than I am giving you. Then my heart breaks a little and I rush to your side, pick you up, and find a way to include you in whatever I am doing. The best moments are when I stop what I'm doing altogether and just play with you instead.
And now, sweet Kai, you are asleep and your brother is awake, so I must sign off. Keep growing, little guy. Happy birthday. We love you.
Why has it taken me so long to write your birthday post? Because it is more fun to play with you than type on the computer. The blog is moving further and further down the priority list, no matter how badly I want to record every detail of your day.
But now Jett is sleeping and you are sitting in my lap, and it seems like a good time to recap the last 30 or so days.
What a monumental month this one has been. You are growing, babe. You're all grown out of your 0-3 month clothes, and you moved in to the size 2 diapers. Even your little socks - the only socks that stayed on your feet for the first three months - are now too small and now no socks stay on your feet. It's summer, so this wouldn't be an issue, except I seem to have handed down to you my feet. Like me, your feet always need to be covered or they get cold and clammy. I'm sorry to paint a less than desirable picture of your perfect little feet, but it's just the plain truth.
But let's move on up to your head, or namely, your neck. That strong little neck. You're doing a pretty good job of holding your head up now. Sometimes I put you in the sling or the Baby Bjorn and turn your back to my belly so you are facing out. When I do that you turn your head from side to side, looking left, right, and back again, taking it all in. What captured your attention most on our last walk, was the brick walls on the houses we walked by. I don't know why you were so enthralled with the red brick walls, but you were, and you kept your head turned to the houses and your eyes riveted on the walls as we walked past. I found this to be a relief from the constant turning of your head on my chest, which I think is going to leave a bruise on my sternum. But that's ok. I love to see you look around.
Now let's talk about drool. You are drooling all the time. Even though I don't like the look of a bib on a baby who isn't eating, I've had to disregard my fashion sense and put a bib on you every day, otherwise I have to change your shirt every hour or so because it is so damp from your drool. Wearing a bib is actually kind of handy, because you can put the edge of the bib in your mouth, and it gives you something to chew on besides your fingers. Bonus, the bibs (and your fingers) aren't plastic, so no need to worry about those pesky plastic chemicals we are only somewhat successful at avoiding. Maybe you will get teeth soon? Who knows.
Oh Kai, Kai with the lovely black hair. Your hair, my little friend, is falling out. It gathers in your sun hat and it clings to your sheets. I find it trapped in the little folds on your neck, and on the washcloth at bath time. You are no where near bald, and it seems to be an even fall out. I mean, you don't have any bald spots on your head. I just wonder what is going to grow in it's place? Will your new hair grow in curly and black again? Or will it give in and succumb to your parents' regular straight, brownish hair? Well, don't worry about it, sweet baby. Your hair is luscious no matter what it looks like, and so is everything else about you.
Like your smile, and those big blue eyes.
Your personality is still as calm as ever; you're the most laid back member of the family. Oh sure, you cry when you're hungry or tired or wet, but mostly you coo, smile, and squeal. Your squeals mimic Jett. If he squeals in a high-low-high pitch, you do the same. It's amazing, and if I've stepped out of the room for a minute, confusing.
Sometimes when I've been paying attention to Jett and you've been in the swing too long you'll squeal from the corner, just to remind us that you are in the room. We don't need the reminder that you are there, but sometimes I need a reminder that even you, peaceful baby, need a little more playtime than I am giving you. Then my heart breaks a little and I rush to your side, pick you up, and find a way to include you in whatever I am doing. The best moments are when I stop what I'm doing altogether and just play with you instead.
And now, sweet Kai, you are asleep and your brother is awake, so I must sign off. Keep growing, little guy. Happy birthday. We love you.
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