making it work

Athena has been working very hard on mastering a new skill: buckling. She doesn't have the grip strength to unfasten the buckles yet, but with concentration and some serious dexterity development, she can buckle both sides of her high chair. Buckling, over and over again, is one of her favorite activities right now. She will do it, uninterrupted, for half an hour at a time, several times a day.

I have loved watching her learning process with this task. Once she mastered buckling one side (with huge proud smiles and jubilant kicking), she tried to apply the identical technique (without mirroring it) to the other side and discovered she needed to adjust her approach in order to succeed. For awhile she preferred to just buckle the right side, since she had aced it, and tended to either ignore the left side or get frustrated after a few attempts and fling the straps away. She persisted and practiced and now she can and does buckle both sides, repeatedly, with more and more fluidity each time.

This term I'm in an online-only (eep!) course called Young Child as Scientist, based on the constructivist theory that children are naturally theory-builders who formulate questions and conduct experiments to test their hypotheses. I very clearly see this methodology at play in Athena's work to solve the "how do I make the buckles fit together" problem.

In related news, grad school continues to totally rock.

High fives,
-MP

Athena does the park

We've had a few hot, sunny days this week, so I've packed Athena into the stroller for a few glorious two-hour stints at the park. Often when I've brought her to the park in the past she'll spend the majority of the time just standing and staring at the other people there. Or sitting and staring. Or holding onto my leg and staring.

But with these longer park dates, she spends the first half hour in observation mode, then she starts to explore the play structures. She likes the baby swings and climbing the stairs to slide down the toddler slides. She has been a fan of bark chips for weeks, but now she has discovered daisies too.

And she's starting to interact with the other kids! Today, Athena and this two-year-old named Violet took a shine to each other, and followed each other around the playground babbling. Violet kept saying "Baby!" and gently hugging Athena. It was adorable.

I can tell that she likes the park because when it's time to go, she screams bloody murder as I strap her into her stroller. (Waving "bye bye" to the park seems to decrease transition-time shrieking.)

High fives,

-MP

apparel

Ezra is starting to assert some opinions about what he wears, and tries to put on some of his clothes himself. Mainly socks, shoes, and hats, and by "tries to put on" I mean he sort of jams them up against the appropriate body part. But still! Progress! Emerging personality!

This week he was insistent that he wear this ridiculous pink and red striped monstrosity on his head. It is either a froufy costume bag, or possibly his sister's hat -- I'm not sure which.

I think he rocked it.

Hugs,
-MP

made for walkin'

Ezra has finally, finally started walking for real. Athena went from zero to walking in like three days, but Ezra took his own sweet time, and wanted a lot of practice before making the switch from primarily crawling to primarily walking. He's been using rolling toys, dining room chairs, and big people fingers for like, two months. For about three weeks he's been (adorably) walking a few steps unassisted between one encouraging person and another, then collapsing joyfully into their outstretched arms. Just this week he finally decided he could take more than three steps at a time by himself, without coaxing, and go just about anywhere he pleases. He is thrilled with himself.

On one of our sunny days this week, I stripped Ezra down to just a t-shirt, initially thinking he might like a chance to air out somewhere it didn't matter if he took a wee on his own feet. It turned out he hated the feeling of the grass on his bare bum, so anytime he fell down he immediately popped back up, usually with an offended shriek. I left him pantsless for two hours, and he spent the entire time wobbling around the backyard, and occasionally trying to climb things.

My grad school program is based out of the Reggio Emilia approach to preschool education. One of the major tenants of Reggio is trusting children to take risks and allowing them to feel the power of their own bodies. Before thinking about it this way, I think I would have been much more likely to just block kids' access to potentially risky objects, or physically move the kid to the end point instead of letting them go through the process of trying their own bodies at something they're not quite yet capable of reliably doing without assistance. For example, Ezra wanted to look out his bedroom window but it's above his eye level. Rather than just ignore his pointing or hold him up to see out, I moved a step stool against the wall under his window and gave him the space to try it on his own. And then rather than just setting him on the top step, I guided him verbally and physically to climb the stairs himself. Soon I shifted to just verbal encouragement, and hovered my hands near him to catch him if he slipped, and let him do the whole thing on his own. He is so proud of himself going up and down those steps!

yes, he does have his hair in a gaudy flowered ponytail, the day before his mom took him in for a "boy" haircut

Similarly, Sasha's play structure in the backyard has a wide ladder on one side leading up to a platform five feet above the ground. I used to just lift Ezra to the top platform and sit up there with him, but now I help him move his hands and feet to pull himself up the ladder, which is a little too large for him to do on his own, but possible for him to do with assistance. This reminds me of scaffolding, which is a theory of learning that comes out of social constructivism -- that kids "scaffold" their knowledge when they push themselves to do things at the edge of their ability level that others around them can already do. Grad school has practical life applications!

Hugs,
-MP

first birthday board books

When each of my babies turned one, I made them a personalized board book. I have been taking pictures with my cell phone almost every day I'm with them for the past eight months with this project in mind. Out of the hundreds of shitty cell phone pictures I've taken, there were about 15-20 decent quality ones of each kid.

I used mycustomstory.com to upload photos and design each book. I filled each with very simple sentences like "Ezra plays outside" and "Athena likes to learn " to match each picture.

The babies think their birthday board books are good teething toys and occasionally fun for throwing. The parents are somewhat more sentimental. There were misty mom eyes for sure.

Hugs,
-MP

The Poop Situation

This is, cliche of parenting cliches, a poop story. Skip it if the very title fills you with dread or an uncontrollable impulse to roll your eyes.

Athena's usual cheerful babble was punctuated throughout the day on Tuesday by several bouts of sudden screaming and crying, accompanied by squatting and straining. Kid was obviously in pain from something going on in her body. I was somewhat perplexed that she seemed to feel immediately better if I would change her (barely streaked) diaper and wipe her down, but the respite would only last an hour or so. When babies can't tell you what's going on, you make your best guess.

My guess was that she was constipated, and it so transpired that I was right.

Less than an hour before her daddy was due to get home, she started pushing out a veritable poop boulder. It was so amazingly huge and solid and dry that I could tell, the moment I got her diaper off of her and got a visual, that she was going to need hands-on assistance.

I stripped her down and plunked her in the bathtub in three inches of warm water, rolled up my sleeves, and helped her pop that boulder out. Scooped up the offending waste, flushed it down the toilet, rinsed the tub, and then bathed Athena from the shoulders down. By the time her daddy got home, she was clean, dressed, and happy once again. Athena's daddy got regaled with the whole story, which I'd also documented blow-by-blow on the notes I always leave for her mom.

How did I know she was backed up? How did I know to put her in warm water? How did I know where to push on her body to get that monstrosity out of her? I don't know if I had heard of the warm water trick somewhere, or if I did it by instinct. Athena's mom later said she would've had absolutely no idea what to do if she had been the one home.

Regardless of how I seem to know what's going on and what to do, I am thankful for it. I am thankful I handled the situations so relatively effortlessly. It made me feel like what I'm doing -- working with kids -- is what I am good at, and what I should be doing. It made me feel like a superhero.

Hugs,
-MP

trashin' the camp

She's walking and everything that comes with it.

High fives,
-MP

Ezra's newest trick

He's very proud of his downward dog pose, and will literally crawl up to you and then pull out the baby yoga in hopes of praise. If you walk away, he will scuttle after you, reposition himself at your feet, and try it again. Hilarious.

Hugs,
-MP

baby styles

My two babies are about two months apart in age, and right now they're neck-and-neck developmentally speaking. They're both on the brink of walking, they're both beginning to obviously understand much of what I say to them, they're both nurturing a sense of humor.

But they each have their own distinct style.

They have both learned how to wave goodbye, but while Ezra's wave is a dopey looking full-arm flopping affair, Athena's is a perfect, refined princess wave. Her wave belongs on a parade float.

They both have fully committed to the dropping-food-on-the-floor stage of life. But while Ezra drops food (half of the time by accident) and then immediately cranes over the high chair tray to see if the dog will eat it, Athena picks up her food, delicately licks it, and then flings it as hard as she can across the kitchen.

Ezra is extremely food motivated. When I pick Ezra up, he will desperately unleash all five ASL signs I've taught him (more, all done, milk, diaper change, please) in the hopes that they will result in food. When I try to teach Athena ASL signs, she deliberately looks the other way. She is not interested in your puerile human tricks. She might eat the food you offer her, if she feels like it. But only if you hand feed her one nibble at a time. Otherwise it's a swift swipe to the floor.

So basically what I'm saying is that Ezra is kind of like a dog, and Athena is kind of like a cat.

High fives,
-MP

workin' it

Ezra just turned one, which means it's time for him to buck up and start working for his keep.

Conveniently, he's very self-motivated, and happily assigns himself "jobs" that he meticulously completes. He's quite handy to have around.

He washes the windows.

 

He puts things away where he believes they belong, which is usually under cushions. Lollipops, alphabet magnets, socks, crumpled tissues -- really just about everything belongs under cushions.

 

He drags all of our shoes into a pile in the middle of the floor.

And he sweeps!

Hugs,
-MP

mastering

I am finally getting the hang of Athena's hair. The secret is lots of leave-in conditioner, a fine toothed comb, and cheerios (for baby distracting purposes).

 

High fives,

-MP

Two new things in Ezra's life

1. Ezra's mom gave him his first haircut because "with that clip in his hair everyone always thought he was a girl and he's not!" but all she did was cut his bangs so now he has this hilariously stupid baby mullet hairdo oh my god

and

2. He started deliberately signing his first word! It's "more," of course. Like a dog, he is extremely food motivated, so I've been bribing him with blueberries for a few months trying to get him to do a new trick. And now he does it! Not even a year old yet and he looks me dead in the eye, grunts dramatically, and pokes his little index fingers together vehemently.

The time he's most likely to do it is while he's flat on his back on the changing table, though, which is extremely perplexing to me. The sign for "more" does look kinda like the sign for "change," but not that much like it.

Hugs,
-MP

upright

My babies are growing up. Literally: they both seize every opportunity to pull themselves upright to stand, triumphantly, for up to seven or eight minutes at a time.

They both crawl with confident clumsiness and alarming speed toward anything tiny they hope to ingest. Mere weeks ago they just rolled and flailed.

They both have enough hair for ponytails. Well, Ezra has had enough hair for ages, but today was the first time I gave him the pebbles and bam bam treatment. (His mom thought it was great.) I've generally ignored Athena's curls because I have no experience with hair like hers, but her mom asked me to condition, comb, and pigtail it this week, and it's so stinkin' adorable that now I'll probably do variations of this every day she's in my care until she develops enough awareness to pull the hairties out herself.

These two are only two and a half months apart, so it's really interesting to watch them develop at their own rates. They're vastly different little people. Ezra is extremely social -- he smiles easily, laughs ungracefully and uproariously, and will exchange grunts and babbles with delight. Athena is much more cautious and focused in her interactions with the world. I call her my scardeybaby because sudden movements and loud sounds frighten her. I have startled her to tears on more than one occasion by sneezing. Hell, she has startled herself into tears on more than one occasion by sneezing. Ezra thinks stuff like that is hilarious. Today he was busting up because Sasha was tossing the changing table pad around. Athena smiles at her name, but she's not a giggler. She's much more likely to put on a Serious Face, little frown and all, and stare you down with such intensity it's kind of disconcerting.

The best parts of my days are usually getting them up from their naps, when they're all smiles, happy to see me and happy to be alive and growing.

Hugs,
-MP

baby shark week

I really love my days with Athena. She smiles, she bounces, she babbles, she eats and naps like a champ.

She just leveled up to 5 months, and she's got the new large motor skills to go with it. Primarily rolling over and flailing. But she can hold her own bottle, she intentionally grabs things, and she is intensely interested in reaching for my laptop and cell phone.

She also just started teething hardcore. Drooling, gumming her lips, biting stuff, batting her ears, the whole bit. I figured I'd be one of those all-natural let's-just-suck-on-a-frozen-washcloth people, but on Day One of teething after two 20-minute naps and significant short-term damage to my eardrums due to Athena's screeching, I unhesitatingly injected the kid with liquid Tylenol. (She thought it was delicious.)

Afterward, I wondered why I was so quick to give in to the medication route. Was it because Athena's mom had set the Tylenol and syringe out on the counter next to her bottles and gave the go-ahead that morning, and I was adhering to her expectations and parenting style? Was it because I wanted to be able to hand off a well-rested, happy baby in the afternoon to her daddy? Was it because she's not my kid? Was it because I hadn't frozen any washcloths and didn't have an arsenal of homeopathic herbs at my disposal?

Will I do things differently or the same with my own kids someday?

I don't know. But I do know that she blessedly slept solidly for her afternoon nap.

High fives,
-MP