Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Just say "Yes"

Oscar seems to be a bit behind his sister in his development of language. Don't get me wrong, the kid never stops blabbing. We just have no idea what he's saying. For the longest time he has answered "No" to every question thrown at him. It got to the point where Jay and I knew which "no" meant yes and which "no" meant indeed no. When he wanted something, he would often answer with an emphatic "No!" with a tilt at the end to convey his excitement. Or, he would answer with a "nah-uh," meaning, "Of course, I would LOVE some banana." It was getting out of control. So finally, over the course of four days, evil mom took over and I held whatever object of desire about a foot away from him and would stand there saying, "Do you want this, yes? Yes? Do you want this? Yes, yes? Yes!? YES!!??" Finally, he got the picture. His mother was crazy. Also, he learned to say yes. It sounds more like "sess," but I'll take it. I may have gone a little overboard, however, because I think my Pavlovian training was so strong that now he's answering yes for things he doesn't want. So I guess you can lead a horse to water but you can't understand whether or not he wants to drink.

On a lighter, more spring-driven note, Annie loves her ballet classes and we are often treated to bedazzled performances. I caught the most recent one on tape. It's dedicated to my mom, we all hope she makes a speedy recovery. We love you, Nana.

More March 2011

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Monday, March 7, 2011

Survival of the fittest, or most rested

I would love to report a lot of milestones achieved, humorous mutterings from small people, and amazing accomplishments since my last post, but part of the reason it's been so long since my last post is that there isn't much to report. I know, how can I have a toddler and not have a breaking news story every day? Truth is, Oscar and his antics are frankly frightening, and by the end of the day I just pray to forget most of it by the next day, if only to save me from several more gray hairs. Case in point: the other day, I'm making dinner. I can see the living room from the kitchen, it's all one big open space. Behind our couch is a set of bookshelves that act like a console table with picture frames on top, and behind that is our kids' play table and chairs. Oscar is bumbling about, speaking the language only he understands, when all of a sudden I look over and there's his little head poking over the framed pictures on the aforementioned bookshelves behind the couch. The only way he could accomplish this is by A) ingesting some ungodly amount of human growth hormone akin to the Incredible Hulk or B) climbing the chair onto the kid table and STANDING on it. Guess which one he did? He was SO proud, just beaming at me, with no regard for the danger three feet below him. Pointy edges, plate glass windows, hardwood floors. None of it mattered. It was, indeed, his Everest, and yet another reason for my second glass of wine that night.

The other reality keeping me from reporting more often: my kids are constantly ill. It's winter, Annie's in school (a.k.a., that Petri dish with books) 5 mornings a week, and Oscar has no immune system to speak of. Just tonight, I put Annie to bed with what is probably a raging case of conjunctivitis and a middle-ear infection (we'll find out tomorrow), and Oscar, also with a double hit: teething (with what looks like molars the size of Rhode Island) and a bad cold/stomach bug. I spend most of my days in futility, disinfecting what surfaces I can, trying to remember to pay bills, do laundry, plan (and actually make some) meals and all the other unrewarding tasks of homewifery on about 5 hours of sleep because of said illnesses and the nightwaking they impose. And every now and again I remember to brush Annie's teeth.

Last weekend, I went to Georgia for two days and one night for my grandfather's memorial service. Given that the kids and I have not spent a night apart from each other (believe me, not on purpose) since they were born (other than one from Annie on the night Oscar was indeed born), the separation held some challenges for their weary father. Jay did his best, and I'm sure his best was beyond exceptional, but Annie, regardless of his efforts, didn't go to sleep until 3 am and Oscar woke up for the day a little over 2 hours later. Yet more proof that I can never die. No one would ever sleep again.