Cured

For the first twenty three years of my life, I suffered from an acute sleep disorder.  My family, roommates, and husband, however, seemed not to take it very seriously.  In fact they rather seemed to enjoy it.

True, certain events did seem to add a little spice to life.  For example:

• My pillow mysteriously turning up in various places all over the house - my brothers' bathroom, the couch, my dad's office.
• The time the jet plane crashed into our dorm room and I implored my roommate to help me "pick up all the little crystal bubbles" that were scattered in our room as a result.
• The time I shared a room with my Grandma on vacation and sat on her in the middle of the night.  Fortunately, her heart is fine.
• The time my roommate, convinced I was asleep, absolutely refused to make eye contact or conversation with me to prevent any odd behaviors.  (the next morning: "Haha, last night you just insisted that you were awake.  It was so funny"  "Um.  I was awake. Just using the restroom.")
• The time Rodents of Unusual Size (or possibly snakes) swarmed into our apartment through our window AC unit and I woke Josh up to save us.  He, confused and clearly not comprehending the danger, proceeded to rifle through the picnic basket.  I was livid that he would mess around with a picnic basket while leaving me exposed to the ROUS's (or snakes).
• The (two!) times I read Dracula.  HUGE mistake for a sleepwalker.

But for the last thirteen months I've been absolutely incident free.  No mysterious pillow migrations, no nocturnal wanderings, nothing.  And there haven't even been any recorded incidents of sleeptalking.

Yes, I think I can finally say that I'm cured.  I owe it all to Kekoa, I think.  Something about that maternal instinct that is always aware, even in sleep, of the presence of a little person that needs protection.  I thought at first that when we moved him out of our room I might start up again, but nope.  If anything, I sleep even more lightly.

So hurrah!  It's nice to not worry about where you'll end up by morning.

In case you thought long luscious locks were all fun and games...

Warm summer afternoons + naptime = this.

"If I smile will you leave the tangles alone?"

In other news, the new words are coming steadily now.  We get to see not just what we say often, but what he interprets them as meaning.  Sometimes quite revealing as to how he's learned to get our attention/affection.

For example: "I did it!" ("dadatet") means, "I need praise and affirmation and attention, so I'm going to do this thing that I think you'll be proud of and then come get my hug!"   

"I got you" ("agachoo!") means "Hey, can you get off the computer and play tickle fight instead? I'll start things off by grabbing your feet" (An unfortunate discovery on his part: my feet are highly reactive)  :/

"Amen" ("hahama") means "This is a weird kind of peek-a-boo.  Why don't we just say peek-a-boo like usual?  But whatever, I'll play along."  (bonus points: I can say that my child says "Amen" at the end of a prayer.  See what good spiritual parents we are?  Never mind that he thinks it's a game...)

"Mama baby" ("mama behbeh") means "Pick me up please, I need some nurturing!"  Usually accompanied by the universal "pick me up" sign of upraised arms.  After a few days of this, I suddenly started noticing that when he's hurt, I say, "Come here, baby" and then cuddle him.

I really enjoy this phase - it's fun and helpful that he can tell us whether he wants more food, his water, or Daddy.  He can also tell us if he very much disagrees with our decisions.  Fun times.

Summer Doldrums

I love summer.

More accurately, I love the concept of summer.  It's the reality that I don't love so much.

I also love storms.  I love walking in the rain, watching it pour off the roof in sheets, listening to the thunder.

More accurately, I love the concept of storms.  In reality, I'm one of those people who tends to get migraines when the barometric pressure changes.  And then I pout on the couch and wish I could go walk in the rain, but expend all my energy trying to keep my brains from exploding outside of my skull.

We've had a lot of storms in the last couple weeks.  After three straight days of thunderstorms last week, I emerged, groggy and morose, to discover that my kitchen looked like this:

And the rest of the house looked like this:

 And then a couple nights ago Kekoa refused to eat and had a low fever, which I attributed to teething.  He was fine yesterday morning except for some congestion.  And then around noon I discovered that his temp was 102.7.  Forget the housework - we spent the afternoon rocking in the rocking chair while he sat limply in my lap.  Once the acetaminophen kicked in, he felt well enough to yell every time I put him down.  Poor little guy.

So for the Fourth this year, we're doing...nothing.  Absolutely, gloriously nothing.  I think we're a little bit in survival mode right now, and a day off is a wonderful thing.  So we're dressed in red, white, and blue, eating waffles, and vegging.  I heard a rumor that family naptime might be in store for this afternoon...woohoo!!!  We know how to par-TAY.

Happy Fourth!

12,000 Words (more or less)

Kekoa said no self-respecting mommy would put her son to work on his birthday.  Hogwash, I say, but still, the excitement of gifts seems to have drained his creativity.  And I'm not sure if he'll be writing any more posts.  Maybe he'll guest-post occasionally.

But to tide over the wild clamoring fans (grandmas) out there, I present to you the story of his life:
[edit: whoops, I skipped a month and mislabeled some of the pictures accordingly.  all fixed now.]

One week

1 month

2 months

3 months

4 months

5 months

6 months

7 months

8 months

9 months

11 months 

12 months

12 months

Goodbye Hawaii

We're back (and just about time adjusted, but still sleep-deprived) after our trip to Hawaii and California.  And it was lovely.

*Apparently, to Hawaiian mosquitoes I am an exotic delicacy.  And apparently Josh and Kekoa, having Hawaiian blood, are not??  You're welcome, everyone, for being tastier than you.

*Somehow after 13 days of beach and pool time, we managed to avoid sunburning Kekoa's fair skin.  And then in the very last four hours before we got on the plane...bam!  Sunburn!

*I packed the camera.  And then the night before we left Kekoa did something cute and I wanted to take a picture.  And then I forgot to repack the camera.  Ergo: NOT A SINGLE PICTURE OF HAWAII.  I feel sick about this.  We did get family portraits done with Josh's whole family, so at least there's something, but please, somebody tell me they took a few of the day-to-day shots.  Please???  Fortunately, when Kekoa is around my Mom has a camera plastered to her face, so we have plenty of CA pictures.

*Kekoa has nine - yes, nine - living great-grandparents.  And as of June 1st, he has met every single one.

*After spending multiple hours in church cry rooms for various church, graduation, and baccalaureate events (we were out late a lot), I feel that there needs to be a public service announcement.  So, ahem.  Here goes.

When you are in an unfamiliar church, please please please assume that any windows/mirrors in the back are cry rooms.  Please assume that there are people IN the cry rooms.  And therefore, do not:

• Check to see if there's anything in your teeth.
• Adjust your undergarments.
• Suck in your stomach and turn sideways to check your figure.
• Touch up your lipstick (my goodness, the facial expressions!)
• Do your stretching exercises or dance with the music (really, people?  Do you have to zumba during the service?  Bonus points for making me laugh my head off, though)
• Pace back and forth when there's a slideshow going on.
• Plaster your rear end against the glass and lean on it obliviously while my little brother is speaking!  Trust me, it's awkward to figure how to get you to move.  Tapping on the glass just seemed a little too...personal.    

  So the moral of the story is: be paranoid of mirrors.  You never know when they're one-way. 

Just a few things.

I like warmer weather and all, but a part of me mourns the winter days when missing a spot while shaving doesn't matter.  Also, toe nail polish.  I really dislike painting my toe nails.

~~~~~

As I write, the child is eating...raw onions.  He's an odd one. Maybe I need to stop trying to get him to eat beef and chicken and need to start giving him things like liver and headcheese.  He seems to prefer really strong, almost obnoxious flavors.

~~~~~~

Really, this whole kinda-sorta-vegan is a lot more fun that I thought it would.  It's been amazing enough that I think we'll stick with the low dairy diet even when/if he outgrows his allergy.  If we do eat dairy, it will probably be yogurt.  I always blamed produce for being too expensive, but actually without dairy products eating up our budget we have produce coming out of our ears.

But note: don't just cut dairy cold turkey.  Either cut back slowly or go through a full detox diet.  We all got pretty sick.

~~~~~

In my generation it's very trendy to be creative and do your own projects, cook your own food, alter your own clothes (or get them from thrift shops), etc.  I think that's a great trend.

What I don't think is a great trend is the compulsive need to post every single little outfit/meal/DIY project on Facebook/Pinterest/Instagram.  It makes me wonder: do we actually value creativity, artistry, or frugality?  Or do we just want the praise for doing the trendy thing?

I understand it for small businesses and blogs dedicated to a particular thing, but we seem to have an inordinate need that our work be applauded.

~~~~~~

My pastor posted an article (sorry, I can't find it) the other day.  I really appreciate that he passes on really great thoughts each week.  This particular article was written to parents; essentially it says that we are the guardians of our child's cyberpresence.  The pictures and statuses we post may not go away. So don't post anything that you wouldn't post if your 13-year-old child was standing over your shoulder.  That was a little convicting.

~~~~~

Avocado.  Oh my goodness. I made chocolate avocado pudding the other day, and it was AMAZING.  One drawback: it looked horrible.  I wouldn't ever serve it to a guest because of the look.  The recipe I used didn't include almond milk, though, so maybe it would be creamier and smoother with the milk.  So what do you think: would you try something like this?

Nearly a Year

Hello grandmothers, friends, family, fans!  It's time for another update from yours truly.  This has been a GREAT month for me!

11 Months

Mommy has been discovering this month what I've known all along: I am a born vegan.  I love being egg and dairy free.  Unfortunately, Mommy can't seem to come to terms with my chosen lifestyle and keeps trying to get me to eat this awful disgusting stuff called meat.

You would think she'd be okay with my veganism, because while I'm very picky about meats and breads, I enjoy the wide world of fruits and vegetables.  My absolute favorite is watermelon - I get so excited when I see those red cubes of juicy goodness! Other favorites are zucchini, cucumber, corn, tomato, apple, sunflower seeds, and apricot.   I also eat salad greens (especially cabbage), but you'd better have lots of time to spare when you feed it to me!  I have eight teeth now, but they're just not the same as molars.

Eating salad without molars is an art form.

As the genius that I am, I figured out a way to get a tasty snack whenever I want: during my meals, I drop little bits of food over the side of my highchair.  Then when I'm hungry during the day, I just help myself!  It's a foolproof plan, except for one catch: the chair itself.  Turns out I can get under the chair, but I can't get out.    Even more treacherous: the chair seems to magnetically draw my favorite toys under it, dooming us all to entrapment.

"Really?  Do you have to take pictures right now?"

Speaking of entrapment, I live for the times when I get to go outside.  The first thing I like to do in the mornings and last thing I do at night is sit on Mommy and Daddy's bed and look out the window while Mommy brushes her teeth.  On Wednesdays I can see a trash truck come and that's the highlight of my week!

Bedtime ritual

Unfortunately, Mommy insists that I must stay in for large portions of the day.  I take solace in my friend Pooh Bear.  He loves kisses, and unlike Daddy, he doesn't complain in the slightest when I accidentally bite or the kiss is too wet.

"Could you spare a small smackerel?"

I've been told many times this month that I'm very busy.  Well of course I am!  What, do you think the box is going to play with itself?

Sadly, Mommy does like me to cease my important activities during diaper changes, for some unfathomable reason.  So I read to myself.  I even say the words and stop when I'm turning the pages.

This next month will be a big one: before I turn one year old I get to visit Nana and Papa and Grandma and Grandpa!  I can't wait to see everyone and go to the beach and be adored.  In the meantime, Daddy and I are sending lots of aloha your way!

That's supposed to be a wave.  Or a fist bump.

Yours truly,
Kekoa