A's really into carrots recently. Raw, cold peeled carrots. He'll eat them instead of apples, which is the fruit of choice around here.
Today we hit our local farmers' market. We asked A if he wanted to get anything (as we ask each other, what do you want today?).
And A said, "Carrots." Of course.
Not peaches, nectarines, plums, tiny wonderful grapes, figs, avocados or cheese. Carrots.
When we finally found some carrots, C held A up so he could pick some out. And the guy gave A the carrots for free.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Friday, August 28, 2009
"Do you want a brother or a sister, A?"
"Um, a sister."
"Really? You want a little girl to come live here?"
"Um, a brother."
"Another little boy?"
"Um, maybe a dinosaur."
Yeah, I guess this is a pretty inane line of questioning. Dinosaur it is!
"Really? You want a little girl to come live here?"
"Um, a brother."
"Another little boy?"
"Um, maybe a dinosaur."
Yeah, I guess this is a pretty inane line of questioning. Dinosaur it is!
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Cough cough cough doctor
The best way to get into a doctor's office the same day is to say you're a pregnant woman with shortness of breath.
Anyway, I headed to my doctor, my regular one, not the OBGYN, and she said, hmm, some asthma, definitely bronchitis. I'm getting a boatload of steroids, bronchiodialators, and antibiotics. But my lungs sound clear, so they don't need an X-ray, which is nice.
She also gave me the scary talk about getting a swine flu and regular flu vaccine: pregnant women go to the front of the line, asthmatics go to the front of the line, mothers of young children go to the front of the line. I'm a trifecta and everyone should get out of my way for the flu vaccines. When will the vaccines be ready? They have no idea. Call back in two weeks.
Anyway, I headed to my doctor, my regular one, not the OBGYN, and she said, hmm, some asthma, definitely bronchitis. I'm getting a boatload of steroids, bronchiodialators, and antibiotics. But my lungs sound clear, so they don't need an X-ray, which is nice.
She also gave me the scary talk about getting a swine flu and regular flu vaccine: pregnant women go to the front of the line, asthmatics go to the front of the line, mothers of young children go to the front of the line. I'm a trifecta and everyone should get out of my way for the flu vaccines. When will the vaccines be ready? They have no idea. Call back in two weeks.
Monday, August 24, 2009
The Name Game
I just got edition 2 of my favorite baby name book in the mail, and let me tell you, the naming this time is a puzzler. We've got to come up with male and female names, and we've got to come up usually with more than one so we can dither up until B-day about whether we like this one or that one and whether the baby looks more like name A or name B.
I'm mostly using the royal We here, because while C holds the veto power, the name finding committee is mostly me until the later months. Besides, he usually suggests "Rocket" at first chance, which gets him kicked off the naming committee.
Anyway, here's the complex mix of rules we're grappling with:
- No two-syllable names ending in "er" due to duo-syllablic -er ending of child's last name. This seems like a minor thing until you look at how many cool -er names are out there, including my sentimental favorite of Cooper, which we will have to name a cat someday since the cats get my last name. (True. Jake and Niles have my last name.)
- No "oo" (as in Cooper) sounds in the first syllable of the first name, to eliminate assonance issues.
- No H first names. I will not have alliterative first and last names.
- No first names ending in a phonetically soft A or H sounds, so no Anna. This is because I can't stand when people's names all blend together. Names should be crisp and distinct so you know, when you hear them spoken, where the first name ends and the last name begins. (There's a discussion on whether or not the first name needs to not end in S so it doesn't blend into the child's middle name, but honestly, the only times you hear your full name is when you're in trouble or graduating, so it's moot.)
- No names that can be easily given an -ie or -y nickname. Nope. I might entertain a -y ending on the full name, but those names I've liked have been few and far between.
- The name should be somewhat compatible with the ethnography of the last name, which is a pretty common American name, an Anglicized German surname. So English names get first dibs.
- The child's name must lend itself to whatever permutations of nicknaming and reforging of identity they'll go through in their tweens and teens; however, it should not be a nickname.
- No made-up names. Uh-huh. We don't do that.
- No bizarro spellings, like Khryctoffyphr. I know that's the trend, but no.
- Full names must pass the oration test, which is: say the full name aloud. If it sounds like it fits after, "Introducing the President of the United States," and "Doctor." If it doesn't, this is not the name. [I'm not saying I would wish the presidency or doctorates on my children, but I wouldn't want them to be limited by their names and I can't think of anything higher office than a president or a doctor. And before you scoff, C and I know two children--not related--who are going to be limited for the rest of their lives by the terribly hick and backwater names their parents gave them. I wouldn't dream of publishing them here, because they are sweet dear people, but those poor kids are going to have a hard time if they don't get some decent nicknames.]
Sidenote: If the name sounds perfectly fine after, "Now entering the courtroom, convicted serial killer..." this is really not the right name.
- And the gotcha one: the name must not be popular. If it is, it needs to be rising in popularity, not falling in it.
Nobody talks about how after you name your first child, the name of the first sets the tone for the name of the second. Our first child's name is not Bob or John or anything normal like that. Heavens, no. This child will never find his name on a mug or a license plate or a key chain. (Those of you who have sent personalized things are greatly appreciated.) Still, it's a great name.
So the added constraints of A's name to the name game:
- No names starting with T. Why not? Well, in shorthand, we'll have T&A. I could get over it and say A&T but I won't.
- The name has to be somewhat compatible with A's. This is a subjective rule, but it's like pornography: we know it when we see it.
- The name cannot rhyme with A's, which seems like a silly thing to note, but it's kicked a couple names out of consideration.
Any suggestions? At this point, it seems more like a logic puzzle than a joyous naming extravaganza.
I'm mostly using the royal We here, because while C holds the veto power, the name finding committee is mostly me until the later months. Besides, he usually suggests "Rocket" at first chance, which gets him kicked off the naming committee.
Anyway, here's the complex mix of rules we're grappling with:
- No two-syllable names ending in "er" due to duo-syllablic -er ending of child's last name. This seems like a minor thing until you look at how many cool -er names are out there, including my sentimental favorite of Cooper, which we will have to name a cat someday since the cats get my last name. (True. Jake and Niles have my last name.)
- No "oo" (as in Cooper) sounds in the first syllable of the first name, to eliminate assonance issues.
- No H first names. I will not have alliterative first and last names.
- No first names ending in a phonetically soft A or H sounds, so no Anna. This is because I can't stand when people's names all blend together. Names should be crisp and distinct so you know, when you hear them spoken, where the first name ends and the last name begins. (There's a discussion on whether or not the first name needs to not end in S so it doesn't blend into the child's middle name, but honestly, the only times you hear your full name is when you're in trouble or graduating, so it's moot.)
- No names that can be easily given an -ie or -y nickname. Nope. I might entertain a -y ending on the full name, but those names I've liked have been few and far between.
- The name should be somewhat compatible with the ethnography of the last name, which is a pretty common American name, an Anglicized German surname. So English names get first dibs.
- The child's name must lend itself to whatever permutations of nicknaming and reforging of identity they'll go through in their tweens and teens; however, it should not be a nickname.
- No made-up names. Uh-huh. We don't do that.
- No bizarro spellings, like Khryctoffyphr. I know that's the trend, but no.
- Full names must pass the oration test, which is: say the full name aloud. If it sounds like it fits after, "Introducing the President of the United States," and "Doctor." If it doesn't, this is not the name. [I'm not saying I would wish the presidency or doctorates on my children, but I wouldn't want them to be limited by their names and I can't think of anything higher office than a president or a doctor. And before you scoff, C and I know two children--not related--who are going to be limited for the rest of their lives by the terribly hick and backwater names their parents gave them. I wouldn't dream of publishing them here, because they are sweet dear people, but those poor kids are going to have a hard time if they don't get some decent nicknames.]
Sidenote: If the name sounds perfectly fine after, "Now entering the courtroom, convicted serial killer..." this is really not the right name.
- And the gotcha one: the name must not be popular. If it is, it needs to be rising in popularity, not falling in it.
Nobody talks about how after you name your first child, the name of the first sets the tone for the name of the second. Our first child's name is not Bob or John or anything normal like that. Heavens, no. This child will never find his name on a mug or a license plate or a key chain. (Those of you who have sent personalized things are greatly appreciated.) Still, it's a great name.
So the added constraints of A's name to the name game:
- No names starting with T. Why not? Well, in shorthand, we'll have T&A. I could get over it and say A&T but I won't.
- The name has to be somewhat compatible with A's. This is a subjective rule, but it's like pornography: we know it when we see it.
- The name cannot rhyme with A's, which seems like a silly thing to note, but it's kicked a couple names out of consideration.
Any suggestions? At this point, it seems more like a logic puzzle than a joyous naming extravaganza.
Cough cough cough
I'm down with something, a cough, shortness of breath, some body aches, but no fever. This makes me terribly cranky. We're going into Week 24 with Baby 2.0, which means I've now got a pregnancy-tight belly. During my ultrasound last week, I was surprised by how far up the kid is already (between my ribs, right below my sternum). This means when I cough, my lungs are competing for room with a baby the size of an ear of corn housed in a uterus the size of a soccer ball. Let me tell you, the baby always wins.
Unfortunately, the boy is in full-fledged contrary mode. The whole last week post-birthday-party has been very trying. A says "No!" and "Get out!" to me when asked (told) to do something. (Lots of timeouts.) Yesterday, I watched A run his father's patience ragged, which made me feel like, well, at least it's not just me. He's testing all of us.
What can I tell you that's cute? A knows about Baby 2.0, although it's still a nebulous pretend item like the dinosaurs that occasionally stalk him. I told him he could talk to the baby, and he leans over my belly and says, "Hi, baby, I'm A. I'm big brother. Don't worry, you're fine. Mommy's got you."
Unfortunately, the boy is in full-fledged contrary mode. The whole last week post-birthday-party has been very trying. A says "No!" and "Get out!" to me when asked (told) to do something. (Lots of timeouts.) Yesterday, I watched A run his father's patience ragged, which made me feel like, well, at least it's not just me. He's testing all of us.
What can I tell you that's cute? A knows about Baby 2.0, although it's still a nebulous pretend item like the dinosaurs that occasionally stalk him. I told him he could talk to the baby, and he leans over my belly and says, "Hi, baby, I'm A. I'm big brother. Don't worry, you're fine. Mommy's got you."
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Checkup update
Everything's fine with me and the babe. Just normal cramping, apparently. If there's spotting or bleeding, I should worry, but other than that, it's take it easy and go with it. The joys of pregnancy.
When I was pregnant with A, I had such a cheerful disposition, and he has such a sunny disposition. If this next one has the temperament I've had while I've been pregnant this time around, this child will be fearsome.
When I was pregnant with A, I had such a cheerful disposition, and he has such a sunny disposition. If this next one has the temperament I've had while I've been pregnant this time around, this child will be fearsome.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Birthday soiree and other weekend summaries
Saturday was A's big three party and he had a great time. One other kid, H, was able to come, and while the two of them could not be more different, they had a great time together. We're bridging the gap between A's parties being his friends and our friends. Next year, we won't be able to put the party off for two+ weeks.
A was all about the presents. People came in the door with them and he wanted to open them. Ah, well. No, first food, then cake, then presents. And pinata--a dinosaur one, not a Dora one, because Mommy couldn't find a Dora one. It was also filled with toys and fruit leather and no candy, so it was certainly a gringo pinata bash. He now has way too many presents, but he adores them all.
A had a great time with his grandparents. The weekend felt action-packed and I think all the adults were sleep-deprived. Thursday we ended up in Encinitas for the evening since I had an ultrasound at 6:30PM (more like 7, and it took an hour). But the good news is that Baby 2.0 looks great and on track for development. We found an excellent Greek restaurant up there that I'm going to be visiting again once I have another appointment, let me tell you. They had a lemon-chicken-rice soup which sounds terrible but is exactly what I want to eat the next time I'm sick.
Sunday the grandparents left, which is sad. Not enough time. A got up the next day (a normal day, with everyone back at work or home) and told me, "I don't want you. I want Daddy; I want Grandma." Sorry, kid. You're stuck.
Of course, A is sick again, somewhat, with a little head cold. We're watching his asthma meds to make sure his head cold doesn't turn into a hospital stay.
I'm taking it easy, since I'm having some cramping, which I've had since yesterday. I was supposed to get into my OBGYN's today for a checkup but of course, they canceled it--both doctors were delivering one hour before my appointment. So I'll be rolling out of bed before dawn tomorrow to get there at 8:30AM with the traffic (yuck).
A was all about the presents. People came in the door with them and he wanted to open them. Ah, well. No, first food, then cake, then presents. And pinata--a dinosaur one, not a Dora one, because Mommy couldn't find a Dora one. It was also filled with toys and fruit leather and no candy, so it was certainly a gringo pinata bash. He now has way too many presents, but he adores them all.
A had a great time with his grandparents. The weekend felt action-packed and I think all the adults were sleep-deprived. Thursday we ended up in Encinitas for the evening since I had an ultrasound at 6:30PM (more like 7, and it took an hour). But the good news is that Baby 2.0 looks great and on track for development. We found an excellent Greek restaurant up there that I'm going to be visiting again once I have another appointment, let me tell you. They had a lemon-chicken-rice soup which sounds terrible but is exactly what I want to eat the next time I'm sick.
Sunday the grandparents left, which is sad. Not enough time. A got up the next day (a normal day, with everyone back at work or home) and told me, "I don't want you. I want Daddy; I want Grandma." Sorry, kid. You're stuck.
Of course, A is sick again, somewhat, with a little head cold. We're watching his asthma meds to make sure his head cold doesn't turn into a hospital stay.
I'm taking it easy, since I'm having some cramping, which I've had since yesterday. I was supposed to get into my OBGYN's today for a checkup but of course, they canceled it--both doctors were delivering one hour before my appointment. So I'll be rolling out of bed before dawn tomorrow to get there at 8:30AM with the traffic (yuck).
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
That Day
Today was not supposed to be That Day. Today was supposed to be busy but doable. A had a playdate with H where JJ would took both boys to Balboa Park and I was alone in the house to clean. (Yay JJ! There are probably not two toddlers less alike, but they genuinely enjoy each other's comapny.)
And I cleaned: scrubbed toilets, scrubbed floors on hands and knees, once with degreaser, once with bleach, dusting, clearing clutter, laundry, and even some mild outside work. I banged out some thank you notes and the minutes from Sunday's meeting. I made vanilla gelato to chill for the ice cream machine later, plus cupcakes, plus simple syrup. Plus lunch for everyone when they returned from the park.
My domesticity just astounds you, right? And I'm good in bed too.
But somewhere between this wildly productive morning and now, things fell apart. A toilet broke. A wouldn't take a nap between lunch and speech therapy. I got out of the shower I finally had to take to find A standing in a puddle of urine in one of the clean bathrooms. And then there was a wipeout in a puddle of urine, which means he'll have lovely bruises for his birthday part. Plus, A needed a quick shower instead of a bath because his speech teacher was coming in fifteen minutes and I had already scrubbed the tub once today.
So once he was clean and dry and clothes, I scrubbed the bathroom floor (again). Scrub number two plus cleaning a urine-soaked boy meant I needed shower #2.
And then the shower door fell on me.
I'm fine. My back hurts, but that's being pregnant and scrubbing floors.
This doesn't mean that I'm happy. If I were a cat, my back would be arched, my ears flat, and my hair standing straight up.
So instead of using my speech therapy downtime to call people on various organizational-related business matters, I'm blogging, listening to This American Life, and playing Civ. That shit will all just have to wait until tomorrow because I am in no shape to be charming or gracious right now.
And I cleaned: scrubbed toilets, scrubbed floors on hands and knees, once with degreaser, once with bleach, dusting, clearing clutter, laundry, and even some mild outside work. I banged out some thank you notes and the minutes from Sunday's meeting. I made vanilla gelato to chill for the ice cream machine later, plus cupcakes, plus simple syrup. Plus lunch for everyone when they returned from the park.
My domesticity just astounds you, right? And I'm good in bed too.
But somewhere between this wildly productive morning and now, things fell apart. A toilet broke. A wouldn't take a nap between lunch and speech therapy. I got out of the shower I finally had to take to find A standing in a puddle of urine in one of the clean bathrooms. And then there was a wipeout in a puddle of urine, which means he'll have lovely bruises for his birthday part. Plus, A needed a quick shower instead of a bath because his speech teacher was coming in fifteen minutes and I had already scrubbed the tub once today.
So once he was clean and dry and clothes, I scrubbed the bathroom floor (again). Scrub number two plus cleaning a urine-soaked boy meant I needed shower #2.
And then the shower door fell on me.
I'm fine. My back hurts, but that's being pregnant and scrubbing floors.
This doesn't mean that I'm happy. If I were a cat, my back would be arched, my ears flat, and my hair standing straight up.
So instead of using my speech therapy downtime to call people on various organizational-related business matters, I'm blogging, listening to This American Life, and playing Civ. That shit will all just have to wait until tomorrow because I am in no shape to be charming or gracious right now.
Saturday, August 08, 2009
The calm before the storm
It's Saturday. C is better but not great; still sounds like he's going to cough up a lung every now and again. A and I avoided the flu, so I'm thrilled.
Today is the deep breath before the plunge of this week. Tomorrow I am going to meetings, meetings, meetings: San Diego Writers Ink, followed by the plumeria society. That'll take me from 9AM to 5PM pretty easily, if not longer. C and A are going to a Padres game. It's both of their first baseball games. A and I are doing the summer reading program at the library and for reading twenty books with Mommy, he got two tickets to the Padres. Go A! They're playing the Mets; I'm a little jealous of C.
The grandparents roll into town at Wednesday midnight, so there is shopping and cleaning that needs to happen between then and now. Wednesday my fabulous friend JJ offered to take A off my hands in the morning for a playdate so I can house clean and bake a cake, plus A has speech therapy that day. Plus the grandparents will be getting there late.
Thursday we're jam-packed with preschool and grandparents and my twenty(-two, nice scheduling there, guys) week ultrasound. Friday C's off work but I'm sure we'll be busy running around and doing party prep.
Saturday will be the official birthday party for the little boy. We are not bounce housing or petting zoo-ing or anything like that. Brunch at home, wading pool on the lawn, a pinata, and cake, of course. "A Dora pinata, Mommy," I was told this morning. Right. Dora.
And then the whole whirlwind will be over. So this time next week, I should be a lot more relaxed.
Today is the deep breath before the plunge of this week. Tomorrow I am going to meetings, meetings, meetings: San Diego Writers Ink, followed by the plumeria society. That'll take me from 9AM to 5PM pretty easily, if not longer. C and A are going to a Padres game. It's both of their first baseball games. A and I are doing the summer reading program at the library and for reading twenty books with Mommy, he got two tickets to the Padres. Go A! They're playing the Mets; I'm a little jealous of C.
The grandparents roll into town at Wednesday midnight, so there is shopping and cleaning that needs to happen between then and now. Wednesday my fabulous friend JJ offered to take A off my hands in the morning for a playdate so I can house clean and bake a cake, plus A has speech therapy that day. Plus the grandparents will be getting there late.
Thursday we're jam-packed with preschool and grandparents and my twenty(-two, nice scheduling there, guys) week ultrasound. Friday C's off work but I'm sure we'll be busy running around and doing party prep.
Saturday will be the official birthday party for the little boy. We are not bounce housing or petting zoo-ing or anything like that. Brunch at home, wading pool on the lawn, a pinata, and cake, of course. "A Dora pinata, Mommy," I was told this morning. Right. Dora.
And then the whole whirlwind will be over. So this time next week, I should be a lot more relaxed.
Monday, August 03, 2009
Sick sick sick
C is sick sick sick. It's the flu. Our doctor doesn't think it's the swine flu, which is good, because flu is bad enough with everyone in this house besides C being a high-risk group (a pregnant woman and an asthmatic toddler).
C is spending time sleeping and playing of Xbox and looking like a zombie.
A is not happy when C is sick. I tried to put A down for a nap (C was already napping) and A said, "No, I want to sleep in Mommy and Daddy's bed." With Daddy, of course.
No, honey, Daddy's sick.
Protest, protest, fit, all made worse by the fact that A needed a nap.
So out we went for a drive and he fell asleep and now he's down for a nap. And I am going to have some chocolate to medicate my headache.
C is spending time sleeping and playing of Xbox and looking like a zombie.
A is not happy when C is sick. I tried to put A down for a nap (C was already napping) and A said, "No, I want to sleep in Mommy and Daddy's bed." With Daddy, of course.
No, honey, Daddy's sick.
Protest, protest, fit, all made worse by the fact that A needed a nap.
So out we went for a drive and he fell asleep and now he's down for a nap. And I am going to have some chocolate to medicate my headache.
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