Kimba

Thinkin' with yer noodle

I think I can speak for every mother out there when I say that Daylight Savings can bite me. On Sunday itself, I thought we were free and clear. Wy had a super short nap because two helicopters decided to fly by our house so low that it shook. I wasn't too worried, because that only meant he'd go to bed earlier and get on track. He was in bed just before 7 pm. Yeah! I win!

This morning however, he was up early and had a short afternoon nap. He woke up while I was in the middle of making dinner for us and another family, and then it became a battle between the two of us. It was shorty-nap plus teething, against a double batch of lasagna. And there's only so many graham crackers in the house. 

Speaking of which, what more teeth could this kid possibly get? He has 16 already, but this seems to be the hardest yet. Could he really be working on a second set of molars?!

Anyway. Whatever it is, it ain't fun.

Partway through, I realized we were out of tomato paste. I threw Wy into the car for a quick trip to the grocery store, and noted that the thermometer read 77 degrees. I so wished we could have been running around a park instead of cooking in the kitchen. Who bakes in that kind of heat? Crazy people, that's who.

The art of distraction reached a whole new level when we got home, and thankfully, I won.

A foam noodle, which will be cut down to serve as a leveler for his new car seat, and a plastic bag.

Can you handle the fun?!

In living color

I had to. I know it's long, so if you'd like to, skip ahead. Pants come off around 2:45, he decides to try another venue at 4:50, and triumphs around 6:50.

You can also hear him say "help please" at 5:45. Caleb taught him to say this while he was trying to get into the tub one day, and now he uses it all the time. "Hat da! Hat da!" until you come and assist him in whatever it is he's trying to do.

At least he's polite, right? Polite, particular, and very determined.

Wyatt vs The Bin

I was going to take a break from the look-what-Wyatt-got-into-today posts, but today sort of took the cake. Here. Let me show you. 

Let me set the stage for you. Wyatt loves his blanket, and more so recently, and after waking up for the day or after naps he insists on tossing it out of the crib before I get him out, and will drag it all over the house. Randomly throughout the day he'll flop himself down on it and be still - even if only for 3 seconds - and then get up and go about whatever it was he was going to do. Get into a bin or drag his alligator around. Today though, he combined the two.

 

Here he's been caught red-handed. He's trying to simultaneously get his blanket and himself into the bin, while putting his head on the blanket. And having a difficult time trying to sort out the logistics.

 

This is his first idea. It didn't work.

Clearly.

This went on for quite some time. About five minutes, and then I decided this was only getting better and pictures didn't do it justice. I grabbed the Flip, and recorded for 8 minutes. 8! He kept throwing his blanket out, then throwing it in, then moving it around, unsatisfied, and would start all over again. 

Somewhere in the process, his pants came off. Cause, you know, that always helps.

He finally figured it out, and seemed sorta happy with it. He was in, his blanket was in. But. How could he lay his head down? 

Back out again. Except, crap, his foot got stuck.

And that's never fun.

He gave up and went to what worked.

But not for long.

I often wish I could find out what he's thinking, but I have never wished so hard as I did today.

If you can't sit in them...

Make music.

Sorta lovin' that little turn he does in the beginning.

It's nice and quiet now, but I'm certain in a few days I'll be kicking myself for showing him this.

Exhibit D, does this picture make me look bad?

The other day I was in the kitchen cleaning up after Wyatt's afternoon snack, and heard Wyatt start to fuss. I thought he'd maybe got his finger stuck in the cabinet door, or maybe he wanted to play with his cars and couldn't get the lid off, or maybe he was having problems pulling out the cord to the lamp, something he knows he shouldn't, yet loves to do.

No. He was stuck in our shoe basket.

So I did what any normal mother would, I immediately grabbed the camera and started snapping away.

Sorry for the dark, slightly blurry pictures. While I may seem a monster, I was trying to quickly get a good shot and didn't have time for fiddling with camera knobs and buttons. I did eventually help him get out, and I wish I could say this deterred him from further attempts. It did not. 

The boy loves to get in stuff.

Exhibit C, and the homecoming

For the record, I do not force or suggest he get into these items. I merely capture, for posterity. As is my duty.

I had a fantastic time in Oregon with Abby, little (gorgeous!) Lydia, and Brian (eventually). We didn't leave the house, we rarely left the bedroom or couch, we didn't turn on the TV once, we were hardly on our laptops. We talked, we ate, we flipped through magazines, and we snuggled the crap out of that sweet little girl. It was perfect!

And I have to toot my own horn, because people, I did really great. While I missed Wy and Cabe, I was fine. We talked, we even Skyped a few times, and I didn't shed a tear! (Maybe because I did all that beforehand?) It was a smashing success on all counts, even from Caleb's end. He says he had a blast hanging out with Wyatt, and gained "a greater appreciation for what (I) do".

Now, Caleb has always been a great help and always been understanding and supportive, always acknowledged that being a mom is hard, hard work. He's always said so to me, and I've appreciated it, immensely.  However, I think a weekend alone, and even a few days of hosting on top of it, helped him to really see what it entails. I think it's something every dad should experience. And mom, too. While I sympathized, I had to grin when he was telling me on the phone how hard it was to make dinner for the boys while feeding and watching Wyatt. And how he wanted them to appreciate it, and clean up afterward! I told him it felt a little like I was commiserating with my girlfriend, and he agreed, saying it was a little weird to send his business partner and sales rep off to work while he stayed home with the baby.

He even took Wyatt to the beach on Saturday, something I haven't had the guts to do by myself yet, though he probably scarred him for life. Apparently Wy was afraid of something, started shaking and crying after a few minutes. Caleb wasn't sure if it was the sound of the waves, or the dead sea lion he discovered lying a few feet away from them, on the rocks. Needless to say, despite packing a lunch, snacks, drinks, balls, balloons, and blankets, they stayed for 15 minutes.

I suppose this just means we'll have to go more often and get him used to it. We've got a week long trip planned this summer in SoCal with my huge family, and it's either the beach or shopping on that trip. And I don't think Caleb will be happy if Wy and I have to go shopping every day. Sounds fabulous to me...

I don't even know!

I've watched this clip at least 12 times in the last several days, and still find it hilarious.

Happy Monday! Sorry, once again, no embedding. Kinda annoying, but what's one more click?I promise you'll enjoy it.

Exhibit B, and ding dong, mom is gone!

Because of some really ridiculously crazy circumstances and situations, altogether insane Calebness really, stuff I hope to be able to divulge here once it's all figured out, he wasn't able to take me to the airport yesterday.

Thankfully, Brian, Caleb's business partner and Abby's husband (oh! you didn't know that? yeah, it's worked out rather well...if I do say so myself) (Hi, Brian!) was there working and so he had the honors of dropping off a mother who was about to leave her child for the first time. This worked out rather well actually, the boys were running a bit behind because of some meetings, and so I had just enough time to throw my suitcase and purse (just a purse! what the heck?!) into the car so that we could make it to the airport on time.

No dramatic airport goodbyes, no lingering at the car, just a quick kiss goodbye.

So I'm walking to my terminal, all proud of myself that not a single tear had been shed thus far, and marveling at how insane it was to be walking around with nothing but a small hot orange $5 purse from Target.

Nothing but a purse!

Nothing but a purse.....crap. My camera. I'd left my camera in the car. I'd spent the entire day charging the batteries and emptying the card so that I'd be able to take three zillion photos this weekend, and I'd left the camera in the car. Duh.

Abby and I were just discussing the Mommy Brain phenomena, and how I didn't feel like I'd fully got my brain back since Wyatt was born. It's better for sure, an entire nights sleep will do that to you, but it's not back to my pre-baby abilities.

For instance. Two nights ago I was getting ready for bed, picked up the bottle of nail polish remover I'd left on the sink earlier, put it on my cotton pad and had it within inches of my eye. If it weren't for the strong smell, I'd have done it. And probably lost all my eyelashes or something.

Anyway! All this to say, hi! I'm here and STILL haven't shed a tear (go me! even during a skype call!), and am having an excellent time. This morning we sat in bed talking and snuggling little Lydia until, oh, 1 pm. I'm loving the baby sounds and smells, and has anyone found that Baby Hunger guard? Cause this is getting serious.

Exhibit A, and packing light

I'm leaving this little dude tomorrow. Don't get me wrong, I'm very excited, I get an entire weekend to spend with my best friend and her seriously adorable baby girl. There will be lots of magazines, lots of Diet Coke, and lots and lots and lots of baby cuddling.

Lots of cuddling. Is there some sort of protective device I can wear to combat the Baby Hunger?
Cause I have a feeling I'm going to be needing it - bad.

But ya know? Leaving him. Not gonna think about it....just gonna think about Oregon.

Also, as a sidenote, do you know how crazy it is to pack for one person? Do you know how empty your bag is? Light? I keep walking around trying to figure out what I'm forgetting, and when it boils down to it, I'm forgetting every single item my 15 month old requires.

And that's supposed to happen. Weird.

Car boxes and wooden alligators

To the untrained eye, this is just an empty box. Well, now it is. It used to be filled with all things Costco. (Bless you, Costco, for giving up one of your precious boxes. I made 2 trips from the car to the house, rather than the typical 7 million.)

But to an almost-16 month old, this is a Magical Box of Wonders. Something to get into, crawl over, pull, and push. He spent forever playing with this thing today.

His favorite thing in the world is to get into things. This box, his bin of balls, the bin of balls at the Gymboree class, the laundry basket, the basket where we store our shoes, even my diaper bag.

He climbed into my diaper bag. While I was in the middle of cleaning it out. Just toddled over, climbed right in. Thought this was perfectly acceptable. Why are you giving me that look?

I don't quite understand this love of getting in things, I thought at first it was because Caleb would push him around the house in the laundry basket, but no. He's perfectly content to just sit there. Today his highchair cover was in the wash, and so I let him eat his graham crackers and milk in the laundry basket. That's where he wanted to be anyway, and it just so happened to make an excellent place for a snack. Dump the crumbs right into the kitchen sink. Voila! At Gymboree, he spends at least part of the time trying to get into the ball bin, and would stay there except that there's usually three other kids trying to get the balls out. 

Maybe he likes the safe, closed in feeling. He doesn't make a peep when we put him in his crib for naps or bedtime, and will happily roll around and hang out in his crib long after he wakes up. As a baby he napped the best while in his carseat, and I ended up letting him nap in it for quite a while. I thought it would ruin him forever, that he'd never get used to sleeping outside of it. He'd be 12, and sleeping in a carseat, all folded up like a pretzel. Imagine the sleepovers.

Of course he didn't, he isn't, and is a fantastic sleeper. It was funny to go back over my old posts and remember what it was like with him. Your entire world revolves around sleep. That's all you think about. How to get them to sleep more? Longer? More regularly? And in the moment, it's so hard to see into the future. I couldn't possibly imagine sleeping an entire night ever again. The whole thing! From start to finish! I was so worried about getting him onto a schedule, despite my belief and trust in Dr. Weissbluth. And ya know what? He was right. And I can say that I wish my old self knew that it would get better, to just chill, stop stressing, and roll with it, but I don't think that's the point. I had to learn that myself to really cement it in.

I look back, and it seems so long ago. I used to worry about him sleeping in his carseat, and now he's pushing a box around and making car noises, and taking his pet alligator for a walk.

In just over a years time. It's pure insanity, I tell you. This is all going too fast.