Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Elliot has had his first (two) nights too!
Noah slept well in his big boy bed Saturday and I actually decided to put E in the crib Sunday morning early after he nursed at 5:30. Usually he wakes up at that time and I can either not get him back down or only for 30 min or so. He's a good sleeper, but an early riser. Well in the crib he slept till about 7am! YAY!
Sunday night was his first night. He went down great. Woke up early (about 10ish) but I think due to the loud thunderstorms. He normally sleeps till 3am. Then slept till 4:40. Very good! Went right back down and slept till I think around 6:30. Again, sleeping in later! Success! I had to change his diaper because he leaked through at 4:40. Went out and bought size 3's yesterday :( It was time to move on up.
Last night he did good too. Again woke up around 10-ish. But, our @#*($&#($*& monitor was beeping and I think that woke him up. He slept till 5:40am. After nursing a good 20 min, he was up for the day. So he didn't sleep in, but he did good.
He has also been napping well in there. I'm so happy! Now if only I can sleep. We have baby monitor issues, and when I can't hear him I worry a nd check on him too much. GRRR! Going to buy a new one STAT!
Sunday night was his first night. He went down great. Woke up early (about 10ish) but I think due to the loud thunderstorms. He normally sleeps till 3am. Then slept till 4:40. Very good! Went right back down and slept till I think around 6:30. Again, sleeping in later! Success! I had to change his diaper because he leaked through at 4:40. Went out and bought size 3's yesterday :( It was time to move on up.
Last night he did good too. Again woke up around 10-ish. But, our @#*($&#($*& monitor was beeping and I think that woke him up. He slept till 5:40am. After nursing a good 20 min, he was up for the day. So he didn't sleep in, but he did good.
He has also been napping well in there. I'm so happy! Now if only I can sleep. We have baby monitor issues, and when I can't hear him I worry a nd check on him too much. GRRR! Going to buy a new one STAT!
Sunday, June 7, 2009
First Night
Tonight was Noah's first night in his new room, and in his new bed. And Elliot gets another in what will be a long string of hand-me-downs - Noah's old baby room. We could have transitioned him earlier, but it took us longer to get around to childproofing the room, removing the old bed and moving some toys in.
It started off promising. Noah was excited to see his new room, and delighted to see his train table up there instead of the sunroom downstairs. Contrary to what we experienced with his old room at bedtime, it was pretty easy to get him up to this room for bedtime.
Wind-down time was marred for a little bit as Noah was playing in his bed and mashed his mouth on the non-childproofed headboard. No sound came out of his mouth for what seemed like at least a minute. The longer they go without breathing, the louder you know the scream will be and this one didn't disappoint, right as Mandy was putting E down to sleep. I couldn't tell where the blood was coming from at first, but eventually got him cleaned up and calmed down.
We played trains for a while longer, read a few books, and then it was time for bed. I let him stay up a little later than his usual 7:00-ish bedtime so he would be good and tired. On top of that, he had a good long day of play so I was hoping for a quick bedtime.
Me: "Noah, it's time to go to bed."
Noah (with a very earnest look): "I no go to bed Daddy, I no go to bed. Play trains."
Me: "Ok, five more minutes, and then we have to go to bed."
Me (five minutes later): "Ok Noah, let's go to bed."
Noah: "I no go to bed now. Two more minutes, daddy, two more minutes!" (holding up two fingers, and emphasizing each word by pointing them at me like a little dictator)."
I finally convinced him to actually get in the bed for bedtime. He had to bring a few things though - his sunglasses, his Thomas the Train book and his cup of water. I laid down next to him, hoping to keep him still (which is the only way he'll go to sleep - he fights it with every fiber in his body).
Then it started. "Daddy, I want a drink of water." "Daddy I want my book." "Daddy I want my gwasses." "Daddy where my book?" "Daddy where my water?" "Daddy read my book" "Daddy I need a drink." "Daddy where my gwasses?" In between each of these, I tried whispering, "it's time for bed, time to go night-night." Finally I just played dead for a while and put my hand on his back like I used to do to get him to go to sleep in his crib. "Daddy not put arm on me!!!!!" Ok, fine, I'll just play dead.
"Daddy, I want a drink of water. Daddy I want my book. Daddy I want my gwasses. Daddy where my book? Daddy where my water?..." "DaddypickupmybookgetmygwassesIneedadrinkDaddy" Finally I got up about 8:20 and went downstairs, hoping he'd fall asleep without anyone there, but knowing better. Sure enough, about 60 seconds later we heard the pitter patter of little feet running across the floor. He was treating his freedom from the crib similarly to the way freshmen treat it when they first get to college, away from parents for the first time. By going hog wild.
I turned him over to Mandy, who went back up to the room and found he had jumped on the couch and turned the light back on. She lay next to him, refusing to give into his demands (apparently like I did. It was effective - to the point he started asking for Daddy back) until he started sobbing for his Thomas book. She told him she'd give it back if he would go to sleep, and sure enough, he did. Hour and a half bedtime - we told each other it was the first night.
I heard Noah wake up around 2:30 AM and by the time I got to his room, he had climbed out of bed and was trying to open his bedroom door. This room is has more light in it than his old room did (which we kept pitch black at night), and I think he thought it was morning time because of the neighbor's light coming in through the window. When I walked in, he said "Play trains, Daddy." I told him it wasn't time to get up yet, and he needed to go back to bed. He started sobbing. "Play trains, Daddy! Play traaains!!" Finally he let me put him back in bed while I laid down beside him, but that apparently meant play time as he thrashed and talked and laughed for a while. I'd hear him begin snoring once in a while (through a now stuffed up nose from crying), but he kept waking back up and talking. Finally, I just left the bed and went downstairs and he eventually fell back asleep.
All in all it was a difficult first night, but not a total disaster. I suspect he'll adjust easier to staying asleep than he will to falling asleep. I'm a little sad that this likely spells the end of getting to hold him for very long. I didn't mind putting him to bed in his crib, because when he wouldn't go to sleep on his own, I would rock him to sleep, even at his age. It was a rare pleasure - Noah quiet, and cuddly. Time marches on inexorably, and those days may be over.
Postscript: Woke at 7:45, and immediately was excited to start playing trains.
Ignore the decorating - we're not there yet:
It started off promising. Noah was excited to see his new room, and delighted to see his train table up there instead of the sunroom downstairs. Contrary to what we experienced with his old room at bedtime, it was pretty easy to get him up to this room for bedtime.
Wind-down time was marred for a little bit as Noah was playing in his bed and mashed his mouth on the non-childproofed headboard. No sound came out of his mouth for what seemed like at least a minute. The longer they go without breathing, the louder you know the scream will be and this one didn't disappoint, right as Mandy was putting E down to sleep. I couldn't tell where the blood was coming from at first, but eventually got him cleaned up and calmed down.
We played trains for a while longer, read a few books, and then it was time for bed. I let him stay up a little later than his usual 7:00-ish bedtime so he would be good and tired. On top of that, he had a good long day of play so I was hoping for a quick bedtime.
Me: "Noah, it's time to go to bed."
Noah (with a very earnest look): "I no go to bed Daddy, I no go to bed. Play trains."
Me: "Ok, five more minutes, and then we have to go to bed."
Me (five minutes later): "Ok Noah, let's go to bed."
Noah: "I no go to bed now. Two more minutes, daddy, two more minutes!" (holding up two fingers, and emphasizing each word by pointing them at me like a little dictator)."
I finally convinced him to actually get in the bed for bedtime. He had to bring a few things though - his sunglasses, his Thomas the Train book and his cup of water. I laid down next to him, hoping to keep him still (which is the only way he'll go to sleep - he fights it with every fiber in his body).
Then it started. "Daddy, I want a drink of water." "Daddy I want my book." "Daddy I want my gwasses." "Daddy where my book?" "Daddy where my water?" "Daddy read my book" "Daddy I need a drink." "Daddy where my gwasses?" In between each of these, I tried whispering, "it's time for bed, time to go night-night." Finally I just played dead for a while and put my hand on his back like I used to do to get him to go to sleep in his crib. "Daddy not put arm on me!!!!!" Ok, fine, I'll just play dead.
"Daddy, I want a drink of water. Daddy I want my book. Daddy I want my gwasses. Daddy where my book? Daddy where my water?..." "DaddypickupmybookgetmygwassesIneedadrinkDaddy" Finally I got up about 8:20 and went downstairs, hoping he'd fall asleep without anyone there, but knowing better. Sure enough, about 60 seconds later we heard the pitter patter of little feet running across the floor. He was treating his freedom from the crib similarly to the way freshmen treat it when they first get to college, away from parents for the first time. By going hog wild.
I turned him over to Mandy, who went back up to the room and found he had jumped on the couch and turned the light back on. She lay next to him, refusing to give into his demands (apparently like I did. It was effective - to the point he started asking for Daddy back) until he started sobbing for his Thomas book. She told him she'd give it back if he would go to sleep, and sure enough, he did. Hour and a half bedtime - we told each other it was the first night.
Success!
I heard Noah wake up around 2:30 AM and by the time I got to his room, he had climbed out of bed and was trying to open his bedroom door. This room is has more light in it than his old room did (which we kept pitch black at night), and I think he thought it was morning time because of the neighbor's light coming in through the window. When I walked in, he said "Play trains, Daddy." I told him it wasn't time to get up yet, and he needed to go back to bed. He started sobbing. "Play trains, Daddy! Play traaains!!" Finally he let me put him back in bed while I laid down beside him, but that apparently meant play time as he thrashed and talked and laughed for a while. I'd hear him begin snoring once in a while (through a now stuffed up nose from crying), but he kept waking back up and talking. Finally, I just left the bed and went downstairs and he eventually fell back asleep.
All in all it was a difficult first night, but not a total disaster. I suspect he'll adjust easier to staying asleep than he will to falling asleep. I'm a little sad that this likely spells the end of getting to hold him for very long. I didn't mind putting him to bed in his crib, because when he wouldn't go to sleep on his own, I would rock him to sleep, even at his age. It was a rare pleasure - Noah quiet, and cuddly. Time marches on inexorably, and those days may be over.
Postscript: Woke at 7:45, and immediately was excited to start playing trains.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Paul 2 - Bats 0
Mandy got home about 5:00 tonight and went upstairs to put Elliot down for a nap. A few minutes later she was back downstairs saying "Did you know there was a bird upstairs!?!?!?"
This was news to me, as I had been upstairs all day working on getting Noah's new room ready. Together we walked back up and as soon as we got to the top, the bird flew right right by me. I turned to say something to Mandy, just in time to see the door slamming on Noah's room and hear the sound of heavy furniture being piled against the door.
Recognizing that birds don't usually fly in tight circles, I figured it was probably a bat, confirming it a minute later when I saw it land on the curtain above Noah's crib. It's a tossup which one I'd rather have to deal with - bats give me the heebie jeebies, but birds crap all over the place.
I ran up to the attic to look for my trusty tennis racquet. From experience, I know you need a weapon with a high tolerance for error (more on that later). Unfortunately, I couldn't find it among the boxes and boxes of toys and baby clothes. I ran downstairs to the basement to look for something, anything, I could use to take a swipe at him while flying. Everything I looked at was either potentially too destructive to furniture or to me (golf clubs, power drill, frying pan).
I finally settled on a broom and a golf towel (a what??? - I know you're asking what good a golf towel would do in this situation, and I would have been too if I had been thinking and not screaming like a little girl).
As I headed back upstairs I grabbed the camera, with the idea that I would tell Mandy it was a bird, and let her find the picture when she downloaded them on her computer along with all the others. Good thinking, eh?
Well, I hoisted the camera, the bat looked at me, I snapped one picture and the camera battery died. That's how evil this thing was - sucked the life right out of it. I started thinking about how vampires don't usually show up in photographs anyway. Or is it mirrors?
Anyway, I definitely didn't want to miss and have it airborne again (or chasing me, in particular), so I took a few practice swings and then teed off. I'm sorta surprised that I didn't take out the curtain, the blinds and the window glass. I made some sound as I swung, which Mandy told me later she thought was a curse word, but I'm pretty sure was just adreneline-fueled gibberish.
Bat was at least stunned a little and fell to the floor, and I knocked him again with the broom. It was at that point that I started thinking, "Broom bristles are pretty soft..." "Oh SHIT!!!" This is when the golf towel came in handy I'm happy to say. Wrapped him up and took him out of the house. I wasn't sure which one of us was squeeling more: him or me. The bat went to live at a "farm".
This was a much more graceful conclusion than my first encounter with a bat. When I first moved into this house, I was single and had no pets. I was coming out of the bathroom one night at about 2:00 AM, in the dark and I felt something brush my face and hair. I calmly walked over and turned on the light (and by calmly I mean I jumped/fell backward about 4 feet while yelling at the top of my lungs, clawing for the light switch like a cat trying to stay out of water). That's when I saw a bat flying in circles in my bedroom. I ran for the attic and found a tennis racquet.
I ran back downstairs, entered the room and started swinging. It was at this point where I realized that I was, literally, blinder than a bat. I didn't have my contacts in, so I was swinging that racquet like a crazy man at shadows.
It should also be noted that this was before I had any blinds on my window as well, and I was on the second story of the house. If any of my neighbors had been driving by that night, or looking out their windows at 2:00 AM...
I didn't get anymore sleep that night, but I eventually got the bat (see the score above). I'm sure Mandy will be calling exterminators on Monday.
This was news to me, as I had been upstairs all day working on getting Noah's new room ready. Together we walked back up and as soon as we got to the top, the bird flew right right by me. I turned to say something to Mandy, just in time to see the door slamming on Noah's room and hear the sound of heavy furniture being piled against the door.
Recognizing that birds don't usually fly in tight circles, I figured it was probably a bat, confirming it a minute later when I saw it land on the curtain above Noah's crib. It's a tossup which one I'd rather have to deal with - bats give me the heebie jeebies, but birds crap all over the place.
I ran up to the attic to look for my trusty tennis racquet. From experience, I know you need a weapon with a high tolerance for error (more on that later). Unfortunately, I couldn't find it among the boxes and boxes of toys and baby clothes. I ran downstairs to the basement to look for something, anything, I could use to take a swipe at him while flying. Everything I looked at was either potentially too destructive to furniture or to me (golf clubs, power drill, frying pan).I finally settled on a broom and a golf towel (a what??? - I know you're asking what good a golf towel would do in this situation, and I would have been too if I had been thinking and not screaming like a little girl).
As I headed back upstairs I grabbed the camera, with the idea that I would tell Mandy it was a bird, and let her find the picture when she downloaded them on her computer along with all the others. Good thinking, eh?
Well, I hoisted the camera, the bat looked at me, I snapped one picture and the camera battery died. That's how evil this thing was - sucked the life right out of it. I started thinking about how vampires don't usually show up in photographs anyway. Or is it mirrors?
Anyway, I definitely didn't want to miss and have it airborne again (or chasing me, in particular), so I took a few practice swings and then teed off. I'm sorta surprised that I didn't take out the curtain, the blinds and the window glass. I made some sound as I swung, which Mandy told me later she thought was a curse word, but I'm pretty sure was just adreneline-fueled gibberish.
Bat was at least stunned a little and fell to the floor, and I knocked him again with the broom. It was at that point that I started thinking, "Broom bristles are pretty soft..." "Oh SHIT!!!" This is when the golf towel came in handy I'm happy to say. Wrapped him up and took him out of the house. I wasn't sure which one of us was squeeling more: him or me. The bat went to live at a "farm".
This was a much more graceful conclusion than my first encounter with a bat. When I first moved into this house, I was single and had no pets. I was coming out of the bathroom one night at about 2:00 AM, in the dark and I felt something brush my face and hair. I calmly walked over and turned on the light (and by calmly I mean I jumped/fell backward about 4 feet while yelling at the top of my lungs, clawing for the light switch like a cat trying to stay out of water). That's when I saw a bat flying in circles in my bedroom. I ran for the attic and found a tennis racquet.
I ran back downstairs, entered the room and started swinging. It was at this point where I realized that I was, literally, blinder than a bat. I didn't have my contacts in, so I was swinging that racquet like a crazy man at shadows.
It should also be noted that this was before I had any blinds on my window as well, and I was on the second story of the house. If any of my neighbors had been driving by that night, or looking out their windows at 2:00 AM...
I didn't get anymore sleep that night, but I eventually got the bat (see the score above). I'm sure Mandy will be calling exterminators on Monday.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Daddy's little helper
I was gone Memorial Day Weekend, and busy all week at work, so I haven't gotten much of a chance to hang out with Noah in the last couple of weeks. And Saturday I had a to-do list a mile long.
To kill two birds with one stone, and since I'm not beholden to child labor laws (as far as I know), I enlisted his help. At 2 1/2 he doesn't listen to directions well (wonder where he got that from), so it takes twice as long or more whenever he helps, but I was in no particular hurry to get the list done anyway.
Job one was cleaning the fall and winter's accumulation of leaves and dirt off the deck outside our bedroom. We got started even before he got out of his pj's. It was funny to watch him decide whether he wanted to use the broom more or the hose, but once he figured out he could spray the heck out of anything and everything, he settled on the hose. I'd point to the deck and tell him where to spray, turn my back, and seconds later get a blast right in the back quickly followed by "I sorry, Daddy! I didn't mean to do dat." Pretty soon, he was saying it as he pulled the trigger, so at least I had a few seconds warning that it was coming. Filthy from head to toe, we both jumped in the shower when we were finished and went on to other chores.
These first two pictures are of him trying to spray his best friend Hudson's house - two houses away.
As you can see, he's not exactly washing the crud away like he's supposed to. I think he's aiming at the overhead power lines...
This is him helping me put a couple of nuts on the patio chairs. He got the hang of the socket wrench pretty quickly, and even banged his knuckles a couple of times, just like dad does. He didn't want to stop tightening.
After a few more odds and ends we stopped and went for a long bike ride/walk with Elliot as Mom was getting a haircut, and played for a while with E.
Towards the end of the day, he grabbed a ziplock baggie, stuck his hand in it and headed out the back door for one last chore:
"Where you going, buddy?" "To pick up poop." "...oh...OK." (we rarely have dog poop in our back yard because Wally doesn't like to go unless he's not in his own yard).
After he loaded up a baggie of our sparse backyard grass, he brought it up to me and said "Poop, Daddy" and gave it to me.
Heck of a good day.
To kill two birds with one stone, and since I'm not beholden to child labor laws (as far as I know), I enlisted his help. At 2 1/2 he doesn't listen to directions well (wonder where he got that from), so it takes twice as long or more whenever he helps, but I was in no particular hurry to get the list done anyway.
Job one was cleaning the fall and winter's accumulation of leaves and dirt off the deck outside our bedroom. We got started even before he got out of his pj's. It was funny to watch him decide whether he wanted to use the broom more or the hose, but once he figured out he could spray the heck out of anything and everything, he settled on the hose. I'd point to the deck and tell him where to spray, turn my back, and seconds later get a blast right in the back quickly followed by "I sorry, Daddy! I didn't mean to do dat." Pretty soon, he was saying it as he pulled the trigger, so at least I had a few seconds warning that it was coming. Filthy from head to toe, we both jumped in the shower when we were finished and went on to other chores.
These first two pictures are of him trying to spray his best friend Hudson's house - two houses away.
As you can see, he's not exactly washing the crud away like he's supposed to. I think he's aiming at the overhead power lines...
This is him helping me put a couple of nuts on the patio chairs. He got the hang of the socket wrench pretty quickly, and even banged his knuckles a couple of times, just like dad does. He didn't want to stop tightening.
After a few more odds and ends we stopped and went for a long bike ride/walk with Elliot as Mom was getting a haircut, and played for a while with E.
Towards the end of the day, he grabbed a ziplock baggie, stuck his hand in it and headed out the back door for one last chore:
"Where you going, buddy?" "To pick up poop." "...oh...OK." (we rarely have dog poop in our back yard because Wally doesn't like to go unless he's not in his own yard).
After he loaded up a baggie of our sparse backyard grass, he brought it up to me and said "Poop, Daddy" and gave it to me.
Heck of a good day.
Ouch!
Noah got bit yesterday by a friend. I thought it was an accident because they were bouncing and I thought Noah just landed on his friend. However, Noah has bitten me three times in the last 24 hrs since said incident. He has never been a biter, so it makes me think maybe it was an actual on purpose bite? I don't know for sure, and Noah parrots whatever I say. So if I ask if he fell and it was an accident, he says that. If I ask if his friend bit him, he says that. Not very reliable. Doesn't really matter at this point anyway, I suppose.
I took him to the park just hours after the incident. Between the chin bite, bruised up legs, and a bruise on his face, for the first time, I was actually a bit nervous somone might think I abuse my son. I had to nervously explain all his boo-boos to some lady who probably thinks I'm insane. She had a 1 year old boy. I'm sure she'll understand in a year :)
I've been consistent each time he did it, making him go to time out and explaining it's not nice to bite and that it hurts. He hasn't done it when he's upset or anything, and it's only been light/not painful. I am hoping it stops soon. Before he gets someone else besides me!
I took him to the park just hours after the incident. Between the chin bite, bruised up legs, and a bruise on his face, for the first time, I was actually a bit nervous somone might think I abuse my son. I had to nervously explain all his boo-boos to some lady who probably thinks I'm insane. She had a 1 year old boy. I'm sure she'll understand in a year :)
Yesterday
Today
The last guy that messed with him...
...ended up with his own eye patch.
My tough E - small but mighty:
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Aye Aye Matey
The first hour I did when he first woke up. He did pretty darn good. The second hour that I did later in the day, he was really frustrated :( So I think I might try to just do as much as he tolerates first thing, then make up the rest later.
Also, pulling it off is like pulling off a bandaid. Not only did I do it twice, but Noah did it once while I was out of the room. We had a little chat about that one. I will try a warm washcloth tomorrow. I am worried it could pull out his eyebrow hair :/
He sure looks cute though, doesn't he?
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Elliot's Eye Update
Today we had our appointment with the Pediatric Opthamologist at CMH. It didn't take him long to diagnose Elliot with Infantile Estropia. This is corrected by surgery (normally between 6-9 months of age). However, Elliot has developed Amblyopia in his left eye, which is pretty common. In order to have good surgical results, we need to correct this first. We will begin patching Elliot's right eye for 2 hours a day starting tomorrow. At this young of an age, we should see results in just a few weeks. His eyes will still cross until he has surgery, but he'll start crossing the right eye more and using his left eye to focus as much as he does his right eye. Once this is acheived, we'll schedule surgery. Our next follow up appointment is on July 1st.
Pictures of our super cute Elliot rockin' his eye patch are coming. You can be sure, there will be no plain white patches for our boy. We'll have an array of cool designs for him to model everyday. I think I'm going to try to do an hour in the morning when he first wakes up and is happy, and then do another hour in the afternoon, so he tolerates it better and his eye doesn't get too fatigued.
Pictures of our super cute Elliot rockin' his eye patch are coming. You can be sure, there will be no plain white patches for our boy. We'll have an array of cool designs for him to model everyday. I think I'm going to try to do an hour in the morning when he first wakes up and is happy, and then do another hour in the afternoon, so he tolerates it better and his eye doesn't get too fatigued.
Paul snapped a couple of pictures. One before and one after. I look just as pooped as Elliot after. I pretty much pulled an all nighter with Elliot in the lazyboy. He got a cold and could breathe better upright. Between that and having his eyes dialated/examined, he conked out pretty quick.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Elliot
Just a cute picture of Elliot I wanted to share. You can see his hair is turning more blonde as he is growing in new hair, and his adorable little cowlick. I remember Grandma Lois pointed it out when he was a day old and I tried to say it was just hat head. 
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