Almost Not an Only Child

Kekoa is just ...a week? ...2 weeks? ...heaven help us if 3 weeks away....from being an older brother, and he has No Idea what's about to hit him. In the meantime, he is developing his newly 2-year-old personality. So this is a post for Kekoa, on Kekoa, about Kekoa, before 90% of my pictures are of a sleeping baby.

Josh and I like to say that Kekoa is a man of many passions. He wears his heart on his sleeve, which provides plenty of both challenges and heartmelts in parenting. For one thing, he's extremely affectionate and always wants to hug, kiss, hold hands, or just snuggle. It can be a problem with other kids who aren't quite so touchy (which is all of them. He's a serious snuggler, y'all), but hopefully Ellie will be okay with it.

One of his favorite post-nap activities is to schmooze whoever's home into snuggling with him. Usually it's just 15 minutes or so of having your eyes, ears, nose, elbows, and toenails generally harassed and examined, but sometimes he falls back asleep for another 30-45 minutes. But forget about tiptoeing away - he's a master of entanglement. I've been savoring these last few mini-naps with him before there's another kiddo calling.

Post-nap snuggles with Dad

Part of his passionate nature means that he gets very strongly attached to ideas, concepts, and even words. Each night before bed, his cars and trucks have to be lined up just so before he can brush his teeth, but then when he actually climbs into bed they all join him for a good night's sleep. He also is obsessed with clocks, dice games, numbers, and the letter K (which stands for "Koa").

Can't pick just one best friend to cuddle at night

Kekoa is also a man of few words, but very distinct ones. He's a type-A perfectionist who doesn't like to try new words until he's absolutely sure he can make the proper sounds, and then hilariously overexaggerates them. It can be frustrating for all of us sometimes because he understands far more than he is willing to say, but I do love to hear him say "ReaD, Puh-LeaSe" in that very careful way he has.

Josh's hat has been christened "Tut Tut" (like Christopher Robin's umbrella) because it's so big on him

My mom always used to say of me that I was always rushing ahead to get to the next stage of life: as soon as I could crawl, I wanted to walk, as soon as I could walk I wanted to read, as soon as I could write I wanted to go to college.  Kekoa seems to be the same way. He shows absolutely zero interest in typical toddler things like learning colors and shapes. But he wants to be an independent adult NOW (as long as independent adults get to snuggle, that is).

This helps a ton in areas like moving to a big boy bed and potty training, not so much in areas that involve us making decisions on his behalf and then forcing them upon him like "You must wear pants today."  Throw in his passionate nature and you've got a recipe for lots of new milestones and family drama. It always seems we just cruise through the big changes with just minor hitches, and then some little thing takes months to resolve. Life stays interesting around here. :)

RoboCow (the only way we could get him to wear the ears) for free Chik-Fil-A. I made the mistake of taking the picture after dinner...most of his front spots had been peeled off.

On the other hand, he's developing a pretty good ability to self-regulate. I rarely bother to put him down for naps anymore...I just listen for his door to close, which is the signal that it's nap time. I hear him throughout the day saying to himself, "No no, Koa!" whenever he's about to do something questionable. I think it's hilarious when his trains tell him "No no Koa!" as he crashes them together. :)  As long as we're in agreement about the rules, he's pretty good about keeping himself in line. It's just those pesky non-agreements....

So that's a snapshot of Kekoa as he is right now - I know that we will face a lot of changes in the next couple months.  But for now we're enjoying the last few days of being able to give him our full attention and snuggles.                           

Gratuitous pregnancy picture from last week.       

Strong Will

In Kekoa's room, there is a futon for guests. He loves to have someone in there with him and actually sleeps better (usually) with a guest in his room.

He's been asking to sleep on the futon for some time now. We told him no. We were going to have to get a second baby bed, but we weren't quite ready to trust him to actually sleep instead of playing with his toys. We also didn't want to make too many big changes so close to the baby's arrival, and this was not one of our priorities.

Then one day, I gave his usual 15-minute warning that naptime was coming up. He disappeared into his room. 15 minutes later, I found him like this:

He had put himself down for his nap early to ensure his preferred sleeping place. He did the same thing the next three days, and napped longer than usual. 

We still told him no to bedtime, though. So one night his soft-hearted daddy was putting him to bed and Kekoa climbed up on the futon and covered himself with his blanket. And his daddy bought it hook, line, and sinker.

That first night we went in an hour later and put him in his regular bed, as we could hear him definitely NOT sleeping. He was not pleased. It took about a week to convince us to let him try again, which he did by using the same tactic - putting himself to bed and falling asleep.

And so the rest is history. He's been on the futon for two weeks now. He stopped putting himself down early as soon as it was clear we would let him sleep there.

The good news is that we now have the pack n' play free for little girl.

The terrifying news is that my not-quite-two-year-old is determined, stubborn, and crafty enough to decide on, plan for, and execute his own move to a big boy bed. I think I have my hands full with this one.

Watermelon: the Ultimate Binge Food

It starts around December. You think about watermelon. Watermelon means summer. Summer means warm. You know what's not warm?

A polar vortex.

Suddenly you must have watermelon, for that means summer. But watermelon means summer because it is completely unavailable anytime but then, and so you spend the winter huddling under blankets and wishing it were watermelon season. Why, you wonder, did you not eat more watermelon last summer? Why did you take that valuable resource for granted??

Then the watermelon hits the stores. It is not actually summer yet, but since there is watermelon it might as well be summer. You hold out for a week, but then one day you walk to the grocery store and you simply must (must!) pick up a watermelon. Your choice is between a watermelon the size of two of your heads or a watermelon the size of three of your heads, but you have been waiting for watermelon all year so you pick the 3-head size.  You make your husband carry it home. It is then that he reminds you that he doesn't even really like watermelon.  "More for me!" you chirp.

That night you carve up one half, lovingly slurping up the juice and scraping every last bit of pink from the rind. Must not waste that previous watermelon!

The two-year-old is your enthusiastic watermelon binge partner. He is free from the winter tyranny of bananas and apples!  With juice running down his chin and both elbows, he gnaws all the way through the pink AND the white on each piece. Then you have to stop him before he swallows the rind.

The second day you eat watermelon at breakfast, lunch, and dinner. You eat it in cubes. You eat it in slices. You blend it up and drink it as juice.

And that is when you start to remember why you didn't eat much watermelon last summer: because watermelon IS summer. And summer is perfectly wonderful for about a month, and then you wish for nothing more than a pumpkin spice latte and a good snowfall.

There is still half a watermelon, untouched, in your fridge.

On the third day it pours rain. It is NOT actually summer, it is NOT actually warm, and the watermelon is NOT actually refreshing. As the watermelon melts to water in your mouth, you feel just as water-logged on the inside as you are on the outside. You make 15 million bathroom trips due to the high water content (you might also be pregnant).

You have friends over and prepare a giant platter of watermelon. One of your friends comes with...a plate of watermelon. Everyone politely takes one slice (from HER plate!) - they too have been on watermelon binges.

As they walk out the door, you realize she has left her plate behind. "Wait! You forgot your watermelon!"

"Oh you keep it, we have plenty left at home." And she practically runs the rest of the way down the stairs before you can say anything more. You strongly suspect that when she reaches her car, she wipes her brow with an air of self-congratulatory relief.

So now you have more watermelon than before. You blend and freeze it in ice cube trays for future smoothies and mini-popsicles, but you have run out of freezer space and you still have two containers of watermelon in your fridge.

The 2-year-old still joins you in eating your watermelon, but he starts to hand his rinds back with lots of pink still on them. There was a time when you would salvage the remnants, but you turn a blind eye. And then the fateful moment: you offer him a slice of watermelon. He shakes his head no and utters one word:

Banana.

Finally, with a superhuman effort, you finish up the now-overripe and soupy watermelon from your fridge. You despise watermelon. You don't want any more watermelon (but you know what you could go for? Limeade.)

~~~

Two weeks later, you work up a sweat exercising. It's a warm, sunny day. You love summer!

And you know what sounds really good? Watermelon.

Maybe you'll pick one up on the way home.

Jelly Rolls

We got a very nice piece of mail from my SIL the other day, the very first one received by a certain member of our family.

It made me feel all warm and fuzzy and nest-y inside and I promptly started throwing things out left and right to make room for baby clothes.

John Steinbeck once wrote that “when a man says he does not want to speak of something he usually means he can think of nothing else.”  And that, my friends, is why I have approximately 49 blog post drafts and approximately 5 actual posts from the last five months. I had absolutely nothing to say about anything other than the one topic I wasn't ready to talk about.

Baby girl (affectionately known as "Jelly" in our house) is due mid-summer, and we are thrilled. So far, she has inherited two things from me: her pointy nose and a penchant for causing trouble. So. Much. Trouble. I have gone back and forth on posting about the last five months.  On one hand, we really have a lot to be thankful for, and I don't want to forget that. On the other hand, I don't want to focus unduly on past difficulties (and as of yesterday, they truly do all seem to be past!). I find that when I linger too long on them, I allow the cumulative stress to influence the present - but we only need grace to get through today, not grace to get through yesterday.

In the meantime, while I make up my mind (or at least try to find the right words), the Little Pants in our house is doing well and learning new tricks every day. He calls his baby sister "Elwie" but has absolutely no concept of what this "Elwie" figure is and why Mom and Dad keep talking about it.

This morning I walked into the kitchen while he was eating breakfast, and he said, "Heeey Sweetie!"  The other night I caught him slurping up the dregs of his tomato soup with a trick I can only assume he learned from one of the adults in our household.....

Meh. We have years ahead of us to work on table manners, right?

How to Track the Wild Kekoa Monster

If you want to track the Wild Kekoa Monster, the first thing you will want to do is find the trail of dried oatmeal.  This favorite food of the Kekoa Monster sticks to his pants, sloughing off throughout the day and rendering vacuuming pointless.  This is the surest way to find the Kekoa Monster.

But you will know that you are getting close when:

You find the shape sorter shapes, balls, or cars and trucks lined up in a single file line.



The animal puzzle is put together, but the zebra and rhino are invariably upside-down.



All the Pooh Bear books are pulled from the bookshelf.



Your PlayDoh containers are full of of tiny Play Doh balls.



You hear the sound of dice from another room.



You may also be able to smell the Kekoa Monster, but tracking him at this time is not recommended.  Find a caretaker of the Kekoa Monster and come back later.

The Kekoa Monster may disguise himself in a variety of ways.  He may appear as a cowboy.

Or a mysterious shepherd boy.

Do not be fooled by these disguises. Focus on the oatmeal trail.  IT'S ALWAYS THE OATMEAL TRAIL.

However, ye trackers beware.  Caretakers and observers of the Kekoa Monster often find themselves inexplicably tired and irresistibly lulled into a deep sleep.

So should you decide to continue tracking this strange and wonderful beast....at least bring your own blanket.

Changes

Last Sunday, I kissed a little boy who looked something like this:

I laid down for an hour and slept, unaware and unsuspecting.  When I awoke, I came out to find something like this:

Perk of haircuts: you get to watch Pooh Bear.  While snuggling Pooh Bear.

My thoughts exactly, Kekoa:

(Just to be clear, he needed a haircut. I said he needed a haircut.  I'm very grateful to Josh for giving him a haircut.  But.......my blondie!)

Precious

Were you denied the privilege of knowing my eight-year-old self?

If so, then I am sorry.  But I am also delighted to share this little gem with you as evidence of what you missed.

While at my parents' house over the holidays, I was dismayed to find a very important piece of my history shoved away in the back of my brother's closet.

Meet Precious:

Precious was a handy little friend because his (her?) clothes fastened with Velcro, making a handy little hiding spot.

The first of these secret documents was merely a testament to my undying love for Precious.  The validity of this document may have come into question under the circumstances which led to a 7-year confinement in my brother's closet.

The second document was of a more legal nature, reproduced below:

To the person who finds this.

My ballet diary is locked. The key is hidden in one of my glass figurines. It's in the one that swims.

You just inherited Precious, the doll this was hidden in and my ballet diary. Do not let anyone else see my diary.

[reverse side]

You may also have the glass figurine you find the key in but you may only claim this stuff after my death.

[signed] Full Name       [printed] Full Name

Clearly, I figured that if someone was distraught enough after my death to disrobe Precious in a desperate search for relics by which they could remember me, then they deserved to read about whether I loved or detested my brother on any particular day.

Sadly, my budding legal mind failed to date it.  Sorry to disappoint you hopeful seekers, but Precious and company will probably end up in the attic of one of my descendants, unappreciated and undiscovered.