Wednesday, February 24, 2010

numbers

Today, Eli is exactly:

4 weeks old
12 lbs, 4 oz
23 1/2 inches long
100th percentile for weight
100th percentile for height

He's a whopper, folks. Dr. Y said, "Wow! Big! More big than his brother! I don't know what to tell you. This is not normal. It's good! healthy! Big boys! but not normal. Next time you have a baby I will not be surprised when he is 15 pounds after 1 month!"

Next time I have one month old 15 pound baby, well, I'll let you know when that'll be. Don't hold your breath, though.

Friday, February 19, 2010

Thanks for the help, honey

If whatever form the internet is taking when Owen is 15 has the capacity to access such primitive technology as we have today, I'm sure Owen will kill me for putting this photo on the internet. However, it is just TOO FUNNY not to share. Yesterday morning I was changing the baby in the boys' bedroom, and I heard from the kitchen "turn on? turn on. turn on, mommy'. I couldn't figure out what Owen wanted me to turn on, but assumed he was mucking around with the oven, or worse, had climbed up on the counter and had gotten to the microwave. Imagine my suprise when I came into the kitchen and found that the appliance he wanted to me to turn on was my pump:




I have news for you, kid. The reason it's not working has nothing to do with it not being turned on.

I'm writing this post completely exhausted. Eli started out life as a fantastic sleeper (for a newborn) but has figured out the score: why sleep for extended periods of time, when you can hang with mom and nurse all you want? I recognize the limitations of working with a newborn on sleep, but I'm determined to do what I can to foster good (read: independent) sleep habits from the beginning. So, from today on, Eli's moving out of mom and dad's room and into...I haven't decided where. At first I was thinking straight into the crib in the room with Owen, but today I'm thinking actually I'm going to put him in the living room for a couple weeks. This has two purposes: first, not to bother Owen, who is (believe it or not) sleeping through the night reasonably well right now, and second, to allow me not to have to use the monitor. Having the baby right next to the bed keeps me up all night because babies are loud, even when they don't need anything. And the baby monitor is just as loud. If he's in the living room and our bedroom door is open, I'll hear him when he's really crying but, because of the white noise of our humidifier, I won't hear him when he is just fussing around or talking to himself. I'm also going to take a hard line with the all night mom-buffet. Eli is the size of your average 3 month old right now, so there is no reason, none at all, that he would need to eat any more frequently than 3 hours (and that's being generous). Owen I really did let nurse 'on demand' but Eli will only get that privelege during the day. I'm also trying to figure out if strategically deploying a bottle (which we need to introduce soon anyway, so as not to have a daycare disaster on our hands) can help discourage nighttime eating and encourage nighttime sleeping. This is a work in progress, and clearly I have a lousy track record, but we'll see how it goes.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Uncle

I am still a staunch cloth diaper advocate, and after having invested in a full set of cloth diapers birth through toddlerhood I'm not about to give up and buy disposeables now. However, there is a limit when it comes to handling and laundering diapers, and I think I have reached it. 2 kids in cloth is one kid too many. So, this weekend the project is potty training. I got one of those 70's style "potty train in just one day" books, which promises me that 'any child of normal intelligence over 20 months can be quickly and happily trained, in an average of 4 hours'. I like the authors' style here: see what they've done? If the method doesn't work, it's not the program that's at fault, it's your kid, who is obviously cognitively impaired. Very crafty.

Anyway, who knows if it will work or not, but it's worth a try. Potty adventures commence. here we go...

Sunday, February 14, 2010

No, really. Three weeks. Not even.

A woman leaned over the bucket seat on the stroller today to peer at Eli while I was in AC Moore shopping for picture frames. "How old is your baby?" she asked me. "three weeks" I replied. Technically, he'll be three weeks on Wednesday, but whatever. Close enough. She looked closer at Eli. "Oh, I don't think so." She said. "are you sure?"

Am I sure? Am I sure about how old my kid is? What a weird thing to say.

Yes, I'm sure. He's 19 days old.

He just looks like he's 3 months:



 
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Stage Parent

 
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Yesterday afternoon I took Owen ice skating for the first time, to give him a chance to use the ice skates we bought him for christmas. It was a very surprising experience for me - usually I think my expectations are pretty in line with what is actually going to happen when it comes to Owen. For instance, when we go to the mall, I anticipate an hour of frustrated mom chasing Owen around, paying for broken merchandise, and dealing with eardrum shattering tantrums. I'm a realist. However, for some reason this generally accurate sense of life with a toddler did not extend to ice skating. For some reason, in my head, I had this idea that we were going to go to the ice skating rink, I would spend 20 minutes teaching Owen how to ice skate, and then he and I sould spend the afternoon gliding around the rink hand in hand.

So, that didn't really happen. Owen lasted approximately 4 1/2 minutes on the ice, 2 of which he spent crying to Daddy on the sidlines to let him get off. Turns out, it takes a little more than 10 minutes and a mother's love of ice skating to get a not-quite-two year old whipping around the rink. After I gave up in defeat, and we were walking back to the car, Andy volunteered that he thought it went well. After all, Owen let me put the ice skates on him without protest, enjoyed walking around the rubber mat area with them on, wore his helmet without protest and enjoyed the cup of hot chocolate he got. My first reaction was "Went well? It was a disaster!" My visions of having the next Brian Orser (I mean, Wayne Gretzky!) on my hands had been dashed. It was then that I got an inkling that perhaps my expectations were a tad out of line.

Anyway, the good news is, Owen has been talking nonstop about ice skating since we got home, and has spent the last 2 1/2 hours begging me to take him this morning. So all is not lost! Hell be Elvis Stoijko (I mean Patrick Roy! really!) before we know it!

 
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Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Eli comes home



Owen giving his new brother a kiss...



and a hug...



Eli's had enough loving for one day. Owen looks a bit surprised.

Welcome home baby!