Ugh - pics

I don't know why I'm having trouble loading pics here in any size but HUGE all of a sudden. I used to be able to resize pics fine. I'll keep working on it, but bear with me until I figure it out. Sorry the pics are huge and cut-off. Ugh.

Reflecting On My Newborn: Gage

Gage William. Such a fantastically beautiful baby. See the fur on his shoulders? I loved that fur. He was born 9 days early, with (dare I say it?) an easy labor and delivery. He had the most gorgeous, huge bluish-gray eyes that opened immediately after birth. His gaze was throat-catching...his eyes sharp and wise.

Gage was a typical baby for the first two weeks...I say typical in a kind of all-encompassing, all-accepting way. He was on the small side and had to be monitored to make sure that he was at a healthy weight. He was up many times every night. He was just what we expected from our first baby.

And then.

Ohhh, and then.

The colic started.

He cried from the time he was 14 days old until he was 3 months, 3 days. I know this because the day he cheered up...we ALL cheered up. The poor little guy had an awful go of it...he was constantly unhappy, constantly arching his little body to try to avoid what experts assume is comparable to full-time gas pains. (No one really knows what colic is, or how to fix it, just that it randomly strikes 1 out of every 4 or 5 babies.)

The pediatrician had no advice, other than to hang tough. Well-meaning strangers had plenty of advice, mostly made up of the (oh-so-helpful) comments like: "He sounds hungry." or "Uh-oh! Somebody needs a nap!" After weeks of politely dealing with these comments, weeks of near-constant screaming in my ear, weeks of little sleep at night and a child who napped maybe 10 minutes to one hour THE ENTIRE DAY, my response transformed from: "No, he's not hungry. He just ate," to a slightly wild-eyed: "Nope! This is just my son! This is how he is! This is our life!"

Ah, motherhood.

I remember thinking: "THIS. Is not what I imagined."

But throughout all of the screaming, all of the heartache of watching this intense little baby and not being able to help him, Gage and I were pals. We had each other and we needed each other. He didn't scream any less for me than he did for anyone else, but MAN did we have a deep connection. We had such a palpable bond in those early days...I sensed from him that he was unhappy but not angry. He needed to cry but he didn't want to have to. And he seemed really grateful that I still loved him through all of it.

The one time that Gage was quiet was when we'd bathe together, so we bathed together often. The warm water soothed him and he'd relax on my chest. He'd snuggle into me, into my neck, and I welcomed the softness of his body, the compliance of his tranquil little form. The bath was an escape for us both and is one of my strongest memories of baby Gage.

You get what you get, and you do right by your kid. You have to. You don't have a choice: You're the mama.

When the colic dissipated he turned into his real self...and I recognized him immediately.

I remember thinking: "THIS. Is what I imagined."

And our adventure began for real.

Popsicles, Or-nages and a Shakin' Dump Truck

So Gage has been getting up pretty frequently in the middle of the night lately. He wakes and comes into our room and tries to climb into bed with us. Sometimes he makes it without waking either of us up, and then he sleeps until morning. Other times I wake up and take him back to bed. Sometimes this happens four times a night.

Two nights ago I talked up a prize for staying in his bed all night. He said he thought his prize should be a popsicle, and I said that was fine. He stayed in bed all night and got a popsicle with breakfast the next morning.

Now, yes. I've heard of the term 'bribery.' But this is way different. WAY different. This is a prize. See? That's one huge difference right there. Right?

Right.

So last night, thrilled with the success and drunk off 7 hours of straight sleep, I talked up the prize again. I promised him another popsicle the next morning if he stayed in bed all night. But our luck didn't hold and he was up twice. The second time he didn't wake me, and he stayed in our bed until morning.

So no popsicle.

It was the funniest thing today, because he tried about five different tactics to try to get a popsicle from me anyway. He knew the rules, but he was persistent. I guess he thought he'd trip me up.

Gage: "I'm ready for my popsicle."
Me: "Oh, you don't get one today, sweetie. You were up in the middle of the night. Remember? You came into bed with me and you weren't supposed to."
Gage: "No, I didn't do that."
Me: "You were there when I woke up, Gage. I remember."
Gage: (Looks guilty. Changes subject.)

Another time...
Gage: "I'm ready for my popsicle."
Me: "Maybe tomorrow. If you stay in bed tonight you'll have a popsicle tomorrow."
Gage: "No, not tomorrow. Today. I'd like my popsicle now. Please."
No dice.

Another time I over hear this one...
Gage: "Daddy. May I have a popsicle?"
Mike: "Oh, um...I don't know...?"
Me (shouting): "No!"

And my personal favorite...
Lila: "Milt. Milt! Peas!"
Me: "You'd like your milk, please?"
Gage: "No, Mommy. I'm pretty sure Yi-yah said 'Popsicle! Popsicle!'"
Me: "Nice try, my friend. But no."

Man, he's tricky!

But we're trying again tonight. We'll see what happens.



Lila pronounces the word Orange like this: Or-nage. It's hysterical. If it was up to her all she'd eat was fruit. And meat. Anyway, today I kept having her say Orange because it pleased me so.

Me: "Lila, say Orange."
Lila: "Or-nage."
Me: "What are you hungry for?"
Lila: "Or-nage."
Me (holding an orange): "What's this?"
Lila: (glaring at me)



Gage and Aunt Stephie had a classic moment on the phone yesterday. When Gage has calls (ahem) I put him on speakerphone so I can play interpreter if I need to.

Aunt Stephie: "Are you excited about Santa coming?"
Gage: (nods head)
Me: "Say 'Yes!' She can't hear you."
Gage: "Yes. She can't hear you?"
Aunt Stephie: (cracking up)



I had to make an urgent last-minute Christmas purchase online tonight, using two-day shipping. I'm not normally a two-day shipping kind of gal. I mean: (A) Who's in that big of a hurry? and (B) It's, like, fifteen extra dollars. But this little kid drove me to it.

All Gage has on his Christmas list is a "Shakin' Dump Truck." I have no idea what he means by this. Shakin' dump truck? Really? He's told me several times, and he even told Santa. Poor Santa was all, "And what else do you want? Can you think of something else?" ...to which Gage would shake his head, his eyes glowing in the ecstacy of someone finally meeting his hero, and smile sweetly.

I kept thinking, "He'll be so distracted on Christmas morning he won't miss this one thing."

But tonight he was telling me a story before bed and the story went like: "Once a powder time there was a little boy named Gage. Santa came and Gage opened his present. He got a shakin' dump truck!"

I caved. What can I say? I'm already denying him popsicles.

Turns out there exists such a thing as a Shakin' Dump Truck.

Turns out it can be here by Christmas Eve.



And, as it turns out...I'M the one in that big of a hurry.

Playing the Catch-Up (Part 1)

Halloween.

Did I tell you that this year I allowed Gage to pick his own costume? It was entirely up to him. After going back and forth between two choices he settled, steadfast, on: Strawberry. (The other choice he batted around: Tomato.)

If you can believe it...Strawberry costumes are not all the rage (this year, anyway. I maintain that he is ahead of his time), and I could not find a single one for sale. Luckily it was a simple costume to make. Lila inherited her brother's Chicken suit, which is unbelievably adorable.




A couple of days after Halloween Gage said, "I'm ready to go Trick-or-Treating again!" A boy after my own heart, that one.

November was busy, with both Mike's and my birthdays, a trip to the beach and weekend guests with whom we had a fantastic time. The beach trip happened to be on an unbelievably cold weekend, but was still fun. Gage barely slept both nights and Lila pulled a Go-Go-Gadget Extender Arm move that turned a pleasant trip to Cracker Barrel into The Day My Salad Exploded To the Floor. You would not believe the mess that is possible from one 18-month-old and one half of a chef's salad. It was truly a remarkable thing. Ah, well. These things happen.

All in all, though, a fun trip. There's nothing like the (empty, empty) beach in the off-season.

'My Sleepin' Hat'

During our slow and unenthusiastic switch from summer to winter clothes Gage came across his warm hat from last year. Here it is:

So he found it kind of randomly and he points at it and says: "Oh! My sleepin' hat!"

Me: "Um." (Thinking sleepin' hat? What?)
Gage: "I need that hat to sleep."
Me: "Oh. Sure."

I pulled it on his head. He went to sleep happily and promptly, and woke up in the morning with spiky hair and a sweaty scalp.

So I started calling it his "nightcap," and now he calls it that, too. Right after we put him to bed tonight I heard him walking around. I asked him what was wrong.

Gage: "I'm lookin' for my nightcap."
Me: "Oh. I'll get it."
Mike: "What does he need?"
Me: "His nightcap."
Mike: (fetches it from the couch.)

It's that much a 'thing' already. I wonder how long the nightcap will last. And I wonder, if I didn't have this blog, if I would remember the nightcap in ten years.

Gage has also started talking in these grown-up sentences. I remember reaching the 'he's talking in sentences' milestone, and being so excited. So proud. "He's talking in sentences now." Like: "Gage want milk." And then: "May I have a lolly, Mama?" Now, all of a sudden, it's: "Oh, Lila, you silly baby. You can't reach the juice because you're not standing up. That's the problem."

Really!? When did this happen? I guess this past week. But all of a sudden his speech contains inflection and terms of endearment and contractions. It's crazy. He's more like a miniature adult all the time. (But wait, when I think about that I'm like "Oh, right. He literally *is* more like a miniature adult all the time. Literally in the literal sense." Right. Of course. But also it's really, really true.)

"I'm hungry," he said on the way home from the eye doctor today. (My appointment, not his.) "What are we having for dinner?" (Really? What are we having for dinner? REALLY?)
Me: "Frittata and Broccoli."
Gage: "Oh. I have an idea! How about we have chicken nuggets?"
Me: "No, not tonight. Tonight we're having Frittata and Broccoli."
Gage: "Oh. I don't think I like Tata."
Me: (snickering about 'Tata.') "You don't know whether you like it or not, because you've never had it."
Gage: "I have an idea! How about we have macaroni and cheese?"
Me: "No, not tonight. But how about next week you can pick dinner one night? One night we'll let you decide, and we'll write it down and shop for the groceries and then we'll eat your dinner."
Gage: "Okay!"

Silence for several seconds.

Gage: (quietly) "I don't think I'll eat even one bite of Tata."
Mike: "Well, you can either eat a bite or go to bed."
Gage: "Okay, maybe I'll eat one bite of Tata."
Mike: "Great!"

He ate the whole piece without complaint (7 bites!). And after the first inquisitive bite he said "Hmm. This doesn't taste bad, it tastes good!" (Which is his new line about food. He says it about everything. But he pronounces 'tastes' like 'taste-ess.' "This taste-ess good!")

I am so, so happy to have a good eater. I can't even tell you. He doesn't eat *much* at a time, but he'll eat almost anything. Lila eats pretty much anything, too, and she likes spice more than Gage does. She can stand more black pepper, red pepper. Both of them love garlic. I definitely got lucky there.

Anyway. This past weekend we went on two fall outings: Country Junction on 209 to get lunch, Halloween decorations, pumpkins. And the Apple Pie Bakery at the Water Gap (by the light). (That's on a label on their pies. 'Come visit us. We're in The Water Gap. By the light.') They score you a piece of fresh-baked apple pie *plus* a hotdog for $1.49. It's ridiculous. And they have fresh local cider and doughnuts. It's heavenly. You should go. Here are some pictures:






And, just for kicks, here's last year:

Shots All Around

Man, today was a busy, busy day.

We had flu shots all around, and Sam went to the vet. Wendy came to visit, which was wonderful, and of course I went to work (which, in this economy, is *trying* to say the least, LOL).

The kids were so funny with their shots...Gage cried only a tiny bit and then the nurse spoiled him by telling him how brave he was, and how he was her hero. He looked at her, all wide-eyed, and said "Reeeally?"

He kept complaining after the fact - all the way home he was saying "It still hurts. Really bad! It still huuurtsss." and I finally said, "We all had shots, Gage. I don't want to hear anything else about shots."

That's kind of a new thing. Like:

Gage: "I want a treat!"
Me: "No."
Gage: "But I want a--"
Me: "I said no."
Gage: "But I have to talk! Let me talk!"
Me: "Sure. Go ahead. As long as it's not about treats."
Gage: (silence)

Or...

Gage: "I want to watch a bideo!" (That's 3-yr-old speak for 'video')
Me: "Not right now."
Gage: "Can I talk? As long as it's not about bideos?"
Me: "Yes. As long as it's not about videos."
Gage: (silence)

Hmm...maybe he wants to watch his favorite bideo, 'Tractor Bemptures' (Tractor Adventures)

Speaking of funny pronunciations, Lila's funniest word right now is Lolly. She says it deeply, throatily, "Yah-yee!" She cracks me up. She gets so excited about Lollies. And I have to tell you...I'm not all crazy about Organic stuff, but I found these Organic lollies at Wegs that are made with fruit juice...they are SO GOOD. I hate finding something this delicious, because all I hear are cash register noises in my head. But yes, they're that good.

Other new words are 'Blankie,' 'Dolly,' and 'Grandma.'

Then the Vet. We were there for TWO HOURS. Our appointment was at 6:30. We were there until 8:30. It. Was. Crazy. Thank goodness Gage was well-behaved - it was just me & him, and Sam, of course. There was a darling little litter of kittens up for adoption...they were adorable. Gage stood and looked at them for literally an hour. I played Pac-Man on my iPod. Sam drooled and panted, whining occassionally. Good times. I wrote out a check for $214 to the Vet. When I came home Mike said "What did all that money go toward?" and all I could do was shrug my shoulders and point helplessly at the 96-pound beast. Sam responded by shedding excessively, licking his chops and laying down right under my feet, right where I needed to be.

Mike and I just ate an entire stick of butter between the two of us. Yep. In twenty minutes. We steamed artichokes and dipped them in delicious garlic-lemon butter until the butter existed no more. I think I could float, right now, if I so desired. I'm that full of delicious fatty fat.

All in all, a good day. I hope yours was good, too.

Gage & Lila

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Updatey Goodness

So I had a problem for most of the summer. It sucked. I was really super exhausted and crabby and not at all myself. Turns out I was anemic, had a Vitamin B deficiency and about a thousand (as Gage would say) or five and a million (as cousin Jackson would say) allergies to ridiculous things. I'd tell you what they are, but then you'd have ammunition to use against me. My lips are sealed. Also I now have weekly shots and an EpiPen. So just try and mess with me, I'll stab you with epinepherine. For realz. And then I'll sneeze on you, or break out in hives. That's just how I roll.


Ahh, the kids. Gage (3 yrs, 3 mos) and I are just coming off two weeks' worth of colds. He is very interested in the library lately, and we go at least once a week. He wants to be a strawberry for Halloween. Both kids go with me to the allergist to get my shots every week and Gage always, *always* says "Mommy, I want you to be brave. Don't say 'ouch.' Okay? Mommy? Okay, you'll be brave?" And I always am. Even the nurse says so.

Lila (16 mos) is saying probably thirty words, among them: Hi, Yeah, Uh-huh, Uh-uh, Mama, Dada, Gage, Lila, Up, Down, Thank You, Lolly, Cracker, Chicken, Oh Boy and Geez. She knows her mind and has quite a little temper. She usually sleeps from 8 PM until 9 AM which, let me assure you, *works* for me. She will probably be a chicken for Halloween; Gage was a chicken his second year and I think the costume will fit Li. I'd love to use it again - it's super cute.

Recent activities include...Gage: Quietly working on his manipulation skills, observing our reactions, making mental notes. Lila: Scooting backward down stairs. Gage: Perfecting the art of *accidentally* knocking Lila over, and then exclaiming "Oops!" in a really apologetic way. Lila: Somersaults.

Next on the horizon for me: Weaning. Sigh.

He's Three

Birthday Interview with Gage:

Mommy: What do you want to be when you grow up?
Gage: A penguin.
Mommy: What's your favorite food?
Gage: Meatballs.
Mommy: What's your favorite thing about Daddy?
Gage: I like when he holds me up. (Gage holds onto a stick and we lift him off the ground so his feet are like a foot in the air)
Mommy: What's your favorite thing about Lila?
Gage: I like when he tickles me. (Yes, he. What?)
Mommy: What's your favorite thing about Mommy?
Gage: I like when you holds me up on the bar.
Mommy: Who's your favorite friend?
Gage: Daniel. (cousin)
Mommy: What's your favorite treat?
Gage: I like lollipops.
Mommy: Where's your favorite place to go?
Gage: Wegmans. I like Wegmans. (Who doesn't!?)
Daddy: What do you think Mommy and Daddy do after you go to bed?
Gage: Come and check on me. (Because I'm King Of The World!)
Mommy: What's your favorite thing to drink?
Gage: Hot chocolate.
Mommy: What does Daddy do at work?
Gage: Work.
Daddy: What does Mommy do at work?
Gage: I don't know. I guess she works.
Mommy: What makes you happy?
Gage: When you sing a song. Cows that Type. (a book)
Mommy: What makes you sad?
Gage: Nothing. (Awww! But so not true.)
Mommy: If you could choose a present what would it be?
Gage: Doggies. I like doggies.

Well there you have it, ladies and gentlemen. Gage in a nutshell. (And Mike was like, "Maybe we should get him a dog." Um, no. Remember Sam? The 90-lb shedding machine? We're good.)



Gage was sitting in my lap in the living room last week and he said: "Mommy, watch this." I looked at him and he screwed his face up, looked at the ceiling and tensed his body. I didn't understand what he was going for and I said, "Is it that you're making a funny face?" He said: "No, watch." He looked again up at the ceiling and tensed up harder. After a few seconds he relaxed, sighed and said "It's not working." I looked up where he was looking - the lights in the ceiling fan. "What's not working?"
"I can't turn out the lights."
"What, with your mind? You're trying to turn the lights out with your mind?"
"Yeah. But it's not working."
"Well, don't feel bad. Most people...can't...turn lights out...with their minds." Another statement I never thought I'd have to say.
Gage, sighing sadly: "I can't close doors, either."

Aw, kid.



Once yesterday and twice today Gage and I have made eye contact and shared such a deep, steady, soul-swapping too-long gaze that all I can think about is how he's all the time drawing away from me. That sounds depressing, and I don't mean it depressing. But my relationship with him, with Lila, is so intimate right now, by choice as well as by necessity. I truly know everything that goes on in their lives. Not a thing happens that I don't have my hands in. I love it, but I know now that it won't last.

I'm unnerved by this look, by how Gage looks at me - this obviously sensitive kid - I adore it and wouldn't trade it for anything, but it's also a little unnerving. It seems almost as though he's willfully baring his soul. It seems as though he knows that this period of whole, pure connectivity is limited. It seems as though he's being generous with the time we have left, the remaining time in this stage.

It reminds me of when I was young, maybe six or seven, and I'd pretend to fall asleep in the car five or ten minutes away from home so that one of my parents would carry me into the house. I remember thinking that they probably wouldn't mind holding me in their arms again, their baby, feeling the full weight of me. It would be okay under the guise of sleep - I wasn't too big to be carried if I was unconscious, after all. It was a safe way for all of us to pretend that I was so dependent again. Plus I got to feel a heartbeat against my ear - a feeling I didn't recapture until I was in my twenties, falling asleep on Mike's chest.

Soon Gage will realize that he *doesn't* have to say everything he's thinking of outloud. He *doesn't* have to tell me about his wants, his fears, his embarrassments. He doesn't have to ask me to clarify something that he doesn't understand (he could even, maybe, ask someone else).

It seems as though he realized this before I did, because I didn't think about it at all until he started giving me these looks. Maybe I'm imagining it. Maybe the looks are a coincidence. Maybe he's thinking about how to wrangle a popsicle out of me before bed. But the message I'm getting, three times in a row, is: Treasure this. It goes too quickly. He's all yours right now, so do it right.

And then I melt into those lovely big brown eyes for a moment too long and I don't speak. It's all I can do to blink and look away.

They'll get the best from me. I'll make sure of it.

Old News

I belong to a parenting message board that's switching hosting sites. Because of that we have to get any of our old posts off the old site and record them somewhere else or we'll lose them. I've been going through old posts tonight and wanted to share some snippets from when Gage was younger, and some funny things that I haven't blogged about. It's so neat to read these old posts and remember these times. And oh, how they've grown. Sigh. Here goes....


Gage at 17 months: Gage has been saying "Excuse me" very well lately, it's too funny. He says it "Eh-see-see." He says it when he wants to get by and you're in the way, or when you're touching him and he wants personal space. It's the funniest thing in the world, I swear, this tiny guy ducking out from under your hand when you're trying to play with his hair or something, "Eh-see-see."



Gage at 18 months: Yesterday we were at Barnes & Noble and Gage went up to a woman who was sitting looking at a book. She had a cup of coffee and Gage pointed to it and leaned over to her and said, very seriously and quietly, "Hot." Without missing a beat, the lady goes, "Thank you. I'll be careful."



Gage just turned 2: On Monday he was playing in the kitchen and I was in the living room visiting with my mom. Gage gets quiet all of a sudden, then he says: "No spitting. Sit the steps. Time out." And he walked his little self right to the steps and sat down. After maybe thirty seconds he said: "Time out all done!" and got up, went back to playing. I was trying so hard not to LMAO, and I managed to say: "That's right, spitting is a naughty thing to do." But really, he had the whole thing covered.

(Next day) He did it again today! I didn't see what he did wrong - if anything - but he scooted over and sat right down on the steps.

He: "Sit the steps. Time out."
Me: "What happened?"
He: "Bit nonny."
Me: "You were a little bit naughty?"
He: "Yes. Bit nonny. Time out."
- Pause -
He: "Time out all done!"

I guess I'll never know what he did that time....



Gage a bit over 2: Gage has just started to say a couple of funny things, like: "Gage no sleepy alllll day."

He also has started narrating everything he does, like when he's going upstairs to his room:
He: "Gage upstairs. Play toys in room."
Me: "Okay. Have fun."
He: "Go up stairs. Bye, Mommy."
Me: "Bye, sweetie."
He: "Window open."
Me: "Yes, your windows are open."
He: "Love you!" (Lub you!)
Me: "Love you."
He: "Bye, Mommy!"

This can go on and on....

And everything is 'in two minutes.' "Hold you two minutes?" "Potty two minutes?" "Done dinner two minutes."

Oh, and I thought of one more. I told him he had to have a bite of potato before he could be done with dinner a few nights ago. I said "You may either have more fruit, then eat your potato. Or you may just eat the potato and be all done with dinner. What would you like?" he thought for a minute and said very cheerfully: "Mommy eat it!"



Gage at 2 years, 1 month: While DH was out of town this weekend I took the kids up to visit our friends in the Poconos. Gage and I slept on their pull-out couch. Everything is going well until...I hear Gage say "Huuuurts!" in the middle of the night. I woke up and looked over at where he should have been - he's gone.

I'm about to panic when I see his feet sticking straight up where his head used to be. He had squirmed around his pillow and fallen between the edge of the mattress and the cushions of the couch! He slipped through the, like, 8-inch gap there and all I could see was his little feet and ankles. I grabbed onto them and hauled him back up.

I was all frantically touching at him, like, "OMG, are you all right!?" He goes: "Yep," sticks his thumb back in his mouth and goes right back to sleep.

Scary, scary stuff! I stuffed a bunch of pillows back there so it wouldn't happen again.

He's such a trooper, that kid.



Gage at 2 years, 3 months: So I'm getting the kids in the car this morning and I tell Gage we're going to the doctor and he needs to have a shot. He thinks about it for a minute and says "No, thanks." I was like, "You have to have this shot to keep your body healthy and strong. It'll only hurt for a minute." We pull in at the doctor's office.

He: "We're here! At the doctor for baby Yi-yah."
Me: "No, sweetie, we're at the doctor for Gage."
He: "Nooo.... Doctor for baby Yi-yah. No Gage."

We go inside, and into the 'injection room' I don't know what this is called - it's a tiny room just for giving shots.

He: "No yike the doctor. No YIKE it."
Nurse: "Aww, Gage. I like *you*."
He: grumpy silence

He gets the shot. Cries hysterically for five seconds, kicking and screaming.

He: "Gage sad! Gage sad whole time! Gage cryin'!" Pause. Shuts the drama off like a lightswitch. "Gage feel better." All smiles. Accepts Elmo sticker from the nurse.

Nurse: "He handled that pretty well, I think."

Yes.... *Well*


If I ask Gage to do something he tells me that he has too much to do. I'll be, like, "Gage, get your shoes, we're going to the store." He'll say "Gage lots to do," hop on his tricycle and ride away. "Time for your bath." "Gage lots to do."

Oh, and the tricycle. He's been 'going to work' all week. He kisses Lila on the head, hugs her around the neck and says "Goin' to work!" then he climbs on the tricycle, tells Lila "Drive safe!" and rides away. After he rides around a little bit he comes over to me and says "Gage work at Jackson's houes (his cousin). Gage saw wood, Jackson hammer nails!" and the whole process starts over again. It's too funny.

And the other night we heard a strange noise in the house and Gage looked at me all wide-eyed.
He: "Hear that sound?"
Me: "Yes. What do you think it was?"
He: "Cookie Monster opening my door in my room."


A few weeks ago he regressed a little with pooping on the potty. he was doing it reliably and then he had a couple of accidents. I upped the potty reward, and this is what we do when he poops on the potty:
(1) We cheer and clap
(2) We flush the poop and use a "Special Wipe" (Peshal Yipe) - a toddler flushable wipe - on his bottom
(3) We light a candle (dubbed the "Poo-poo candle," unfortunately)
(4) We sing "Happy Poo-poo on the Potty," to the tune of Happy Birthday
(5) Gage blows out the candle
(6) He gets "A handful" (five) M&Ms

We're freaking crazy, right? This ritual is longer than, like, bedtime. It's ridiculous. But the good part is: he poops on the potty reliably again. So I'm not ready to give the ritual up yet....

It's too funny - after he poops on the potty and he yells, "Mommy, get the candle lighter!"



Gage at 2 years, 4 months: Really? Is *that* what the horse says? Gage inherited a rocking horse from friends and he's been climbing up on it, rocking it and saying "Na-HAY. Na-HAY."



Lila at 7 months: I asked Mike to keep an eye on Lila while I took Gage up to bed. I came back ten minutes later and Mike was lying on the floor, and Lila was playing up by his head. I came closer and I saw that Mike was sound asleep and Lila was playing with his hair!



Gage at 2 yrs, 5 months: Gage has recently started patting me very gently on the cheek, looking soulfully into my eyes and saying "You're a good boy, Mommy."

He also says "Uh...sure," after he asks for something, and although I'm not aware that I do it he must be copying me. He'll say "Gage have a snack?" and before I can answer he goes "Uh...sure!" Like he's trying to sell me on the idea, LOL.

The two babysitters we interviewed are named Megan and Jordan. He calls them "Megnin" and "Jordnin."



Gage at 2 years, 7 months, Lila 9 months: Yesterday Gage said "There's a little snow on the ground." But in his slurry toddler-speak it came out: "There's a yittle no on the down."

He's also been very affectionate with Lila lately - hugging and kissing her, but also sometimes rolling over her on the floor. Luckily...she doesn't mind.



Gage at 2 years, 9 months: He doesn't understand 'funny' being anything but ha-ha. Like, I'll say "Do those shoes feel funny?" and he'll say "No, they don't feel funny, I don't like them. I want funny shoes!"



Gage at 2 years, 10 months, Lila almost a year: Today Gage rescued a little boy at the playground. The little boy was about three, and his grandfather was there but busy with his younger brother. Gage was standing on a platform and the little boy was at the top of a tricky ladder, but he couldn't make it to the platform. He yelled "Help! I'm stuck!" Gage and I both got there at the same time. I gave him a little boost on his bottom and Gage reached for his hand, saying, "Don't worry, I will help you!" I was so proud of him.

And whenever anyone leaves the house, be it his grandma, me, Mike, his aunt...he says "Hugs and kisses!" Once that's done he looks sternly into our faces and says "Now, remember. There are cars in the street. Be careful and look both ways." We have to nod our heads seriously and say "Okay. I'll remember."

Lila swings her fingertip into her mouth and makes a smacking noise to indicate 'hungry.' Today at dinner she pointed at the rice, looked at me and did her sign for hungry. I'm so pleased that she's finally able to communicate a little! She's also saying "Hi" and "Guh" for Gage.


Gage has been hitting the stage of disagreeing with us over what he is allowed to do. Like today he tried to take some of Lila's cereal and I said, "You may not do that," he puffed up his chest, looked me in the eyes and thundered "Yes I may!"

Last week he was experimenting with blowing raspberries in our faces when he isn't pleased. We put a quick stop to that. But twice today we had confrontations and he looked in my face and I could see he was thinking about blowing a raspberry. The first time he just blew air, like at my hair. Way to be aggressive, buddy, LOL. The next time he *coughed* at me. I had to tell him that he wasn't allowed to *cough* at me.

That's, like, one of those things you never thought you'd have to say. "You may not cough at me out of anger."


Our dog doesn't bark much, but he whines a lot. When you ask Lila "What does a doggie say?" She whines: "Nnn Nnn Nnn." It's too cute.



Gage at 2 years, 11 months: This morning we went to Linens-N-Things (Store closing! Sale!) and we went through the first set of doors. I grabbed a cart with my free hand - I was holding Lila in the other arm - and Gage was right beside me. I went through the other set of doors and Gage started to, but then was distracted by something and stopped. I went to put Lila in the cart and realized he wasn't right with me. I called to him and he started to come, but the doors were closing. It would have been funny if he wasn't so scared. He looked like a tiny commuter who missed the train. He stuck his head and arms through the gap but had to pull his head out, and then tried to pry the doors open with his hands but they closed anyway and he had to let go and step back. He looked so scared and lonely, his lip all quivery. Luckily a woman was coming through, and she stepped on the thing to make the doors open again. He talked about it for like a half hour after, "I was in there but then I didn't want to be in there but the doors closed!"



Lila 15 months, Gage almost 3: The other day Lila picked up a toy phone, put it to her ear and said "Hi Gage." We were all hysterical.

Gage has been such a little adult lately. It's so funny. Like yesterday my dad bought him a little matchbox truck, and I was trying to get the package open and I was having trouble. Gage was like "It's okay, Mommy. Keep trying. You'll get it!"

And my mom was taking him around the block on his little bike last night and she moved it a bit to center it on the sidewalk.
Gage: "That's my bike, Grandma."
Grandma: "I know it is."
Gage: "Please don't touch it again."