Matthew and I walk around the block sometimes, and the neighborhood kids always swarm him when they see us out, saying how cute he is and whatnot. (Last time, he saw a break in the wall of kids and ran! Ha ha.)
Anyway, these kids always have a lot to say, usually about school or dogs or Nerf guns or whatever. Last time, though, oh my. We ran into a pack of three girls, maybe between the ages of 8 and 11.
Girls: Your baby is so cute! He's so adorable! You're so adorable, little baby! What's your name?
Me: His name is Matthew.
Girl 1: I have a baby sister!
Girl 2: I'm going to have a baby brother soon!
Girl 3: We don't have any babies.
Girl 2: I'm going to have a baby brother soon because my mom is pregnant.
Me: Oh, that's very exciting.
Girl 1: I might get a baby brother someday.
Girl 3: I'm never going to get any babies in my family.
Girl 2: Why not?
Girl 3: Well, you know the thing the dad has to use to make the baby? Well, my dad got his cut off!
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
Saving my excitement
People have started asking me if I'm "so excited to be having a baby!" I'm afraid that at this point I just can't muster up the appropriate level of enthusiasm to make my answer––"Oh, yes. We're very excited"––sound convincing.
Don't be fooled, I AM very excited. But if I don't sound excited, remember how my face gives everything away. Here's my real answer:
Ask yourself how much excitement you could muster after feeling sick for weeks on end. On the days you're puking, you wish you weren't. On the days you aren't puking, you wish you would, imagining (falsely) that it would somehow make you feel less sick afterward. And imagine that every night you wake up for no apparent reason and are unable to fall asleep again until hours later. And then when you drag yourself out of bed in the morning, imagine that a small, loud, demanding person insists that he absolutely needs to climb on you while you're half awake and eating breakfast. Then that same person insists on playing lots of fun, endless, exhausting games all day long that require 100% participation. And when you have time for yourself, you need to wash dishes, wash laundry, do some work for the paying job you'd really like to keep for many years... Or you decide to take a shower, which inexplicably this time around sometimes also makes you puke. Then you collapse into bed at the end of the day and start all over again.
So I've decided to save my excitement about this new baby for later, when I can appreciate it more.
Don't be fooled, I AM very excited. But if I don't sound excited, remember how my face gives everything away. Here's my real answer:
Ask yourself how much excitement you could muster after feeling sick for weeks on end. On the days you're puking, you wish you weren't. On the days you aren't puking, you wish you would, imagining (falsely) that it would somehow make you feel less sick afterward. And imagine that every night you wake up for no apparent reason and are unable to fall asleep again until hours later. And then when you drag yourself out of bed in the morning, imagine that a small, loud, demanding person insists that he absolutely needs to climb on you while you're half awake and eating breakfast. Then that same person insists on playing lots of fun, endless, exhausting games all day long that require 100% participation. And when you have time for yourself, you need to wash dishes, wash laundry, do some work for the paying job you'd really like to keep for many years... Or you decide to take a shower, which inexplicably this time around sometimes also makes you puke. Then you collapse into bed at the end of the day and start all over again.
So I've decided to save my excitement about this new baby for later, when I can appreciate it more.
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
Extra potty fun
We've taken the last leap in potty training––tackling peeing! Last Monday, we bought a bunch of tiny underwear, and now Matt's out of diapers except at naps and nighttime (and when I'm at the gym since he's not used to having a non-parent help him).
It's pretty exciting. The first couple days, oh my, the pee. Jeff determined that Matthew probably wasn't understanding the concept of underwear and peeing in the potty. His thinking was something like this: "Matt's probably like, oh good, underwear! Now I get changed immediately every time I pee!" So after a few frustrating days of a million changes per day and wiping up puddles, we explained more clearly that Matt should pee IN the potty, and it seems like he's caught on pretty well already.
Sunday afternoon was complete success. Monday was a full day of success, no accidents at all, even though we went to the gym, to playgroup, and to visit another friend. Tuesday we had one accident. Today we had a morning full of tantrums and two accidents so far, but I guess it's difficult to cry really hard and still remember to go use the potty at the same time.
The best thing, though, is that Matthew has used the toilet in places other than our house successfully for the first time.
All we need to work on now is getting him to indicate more clearly ahead of time when he needs to go. That will come as his linguistic skills increase, though. And it's probably good his pronunciation isn't that great yet, or you'd realize he's been saying "underwear, underwear, underwear" about a million times a day.
It's pretty exciting. The first couple days, oh my, the pee. Jeff determined that Matthew probably wasn't understanding the concept of underwear and peeing in the potty. His thinking was something like this: "Matt's probably like, oh good, underwear! Now I get changed immediately every time I pee!" So after a few frustrating days of a million changes per day and wiping up puddles, we explained more clearly that Matt should pee IN the potty, and it seems like he's caught on pretty well already.
Sunday afternoon was complete success. Monday was a full day of success, no accidents at all, even though we went to the gym, to playgroup, and to visit another friend. Tuesday we had one accident. Today we had a morning full of tantrums and two accidents so far, but I guess it's difficult to cry really hard and still remember to go use the potty at the same time.
The best thing, though, is that Matthew has used the toilet in places other than our house successfully for the first time.
All we need to work on now is getting him to indicate more clearly ahead of time when he needs to go. That will come as his linguistic skills increase, though. And it's probably good his pronunciation isn't that great yet, or you'd realize he's been saying "underwear, underwear, underwear" about a million times a day.
Tiny taskmaster
One of Matt's main interests is helping with household tasks. While his help makes everything take at least one million times longer, we still encourage his participation (of course). But sometimes, the tiny taskmaster gets really, really upset if we're not doing things exactly how he wants it done.
For example, one day I had the dishwasher open so all the clean dishes could dry fully. I was also working on laundry. Matthew woke up from his nap and enthusiastically followed me to the dryer. And then he spotted the dishwasher! With dishes! Dishes to put away! What?! So exciting! At least a hundred times more exciting than putting laundry in the dryer. He was completely outraged that I would not immediately put away dishes. He cried really hard for the whole two minutes it took me to put the clothes in the dryer. But don't worry! Then he had the best day ever once he got to hand me the dishes.
Speaking of dishes, lately Jeff has been putting them away in the morning with Matt's help while I'm still sleeping. Yesterday, though, we had the excitement of putting them away in the afternoon. But Matthew let me know that I clearly know nothing about putting away dishes now. I was doing it all wrong. The tiny taskmaster did NOT like for me to shake the water off the container lids. He handed me a towel, said "towel," and looked at me with an expression that he will probably use constantly when he's a teenager––clearly scornful of my lack of knowledge on how things are done around here. Then I made the mistake of handing him a pot to put away in a lower cupboard. He handed it back, all like, "Psshhh, I don't put away pots." His little attitude let me know that I'd better do things the right way or just let Dad do it.
One day I suggested to Matthew that he put the clothes from the big basket into the little basket since he was having trouble with the usual way (little basket into big basket), and he just gave me that scornful look again. Doesn't Mom know anything?
And don't get me started on the right way to sweep the garage! Tiny taskmaster has all his own ideas about that, too. He'll let you know.
For example, one day I had the dishwasher open so all the clean dishes could dry fully. I was also working on laundry. Matthew woke up from his nap and enthusiastically followed me to the dryer. And then he spotted the dishwasher! With dishes! Dishes to put away! What?! So exciting! At least a hundred times more exciting than putting laundry in the dryer. He was completely outraged that I would not immediately put away dishes. He cried really hard for the whole two minutes it took me to put the clothes in the dryer. But don't worry! Then he had the best day ever once he got to hand me the dishes.
Speaking of dishes, lately Jeff has been putting them away in the morning with Matt's help while I'm still sleeping. Yesterday, though, we had the excitement of putting them away in the afternoon. But Matthew let me know that I clearly know nothing about putting away dishes now. I was doing it all wrong. The tiny taskmaster did NOT like for me to shake the water off the container lids. He handed me a towel, said "towel," and looked at me with an expression that he will probably use constantly when he's a teenager––clearly scornful of my lack of knowledge on how things are done around here. Then I made the mistake of handing him a pot to put away in a lower cupboard. He handed it back, all like, "Psshhh, I don't put away pots." His little attitude let me know that I'd better do things the right way or just let Dad do it.
One day I suggested to Matthew that he put the clothes from the big basket into the little basket since he was having trouble with the usual way (little basket into big basket), and he just gave me that scornful look again. Doesn't Mom know anything?
And don't get me started on the right way to sweep the garage! Tiny taskmaster has all his own ideas about that, too. He'll let you know.
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