Look what I drawed, Mommy!

"Look Mommy! H is for Henry. I drawed Henry. He has feet!"

"Wow, Nick. Great job! Tell me about your picture."

"I drawed a nose and an eye and another eye. 'Cause it's H for Henry. And then I drawed an N for Nick because I the big brother. H is for baby brother."

"Your baby brother's name starts with Henry, yes. Great job writing! I like Henry's legs."

"Those are not legs, Mommy. Them are feet! Henry feets!"

Visiting Mommy's Work

Last Friday I took the boys back to my school for a special event (more about that later this week). Nick, especially, loved going to "Mommy's School." He especially loved my dry erase board.

That's a self-portrait he drew on the left. I love how the eyes are huge and appear to be peering down at him. I asked him, "Who did you draw?" and he replied, "Nick!" (Yup, he still refers to himself in the third person quite a bit. Then he drew an "N for Nick!" He's getting rather good at it, I think.

And Henry? He loved crawling around the classroom floor looking for dangerous things, like my extension cords and these unstable chairs. They were still good enough for him to use to pull up to a stand, though.

You would be surprised at how much damage two small children can do to one elementary-age classroom in about 30 minutes. Or maybe you wouldn't be surprised. I suppose it depends on whether you have small children yourself. I had to practically tear Nick away from my desk, though.

Do you see the giant "H for Henry" he drew right behind the chair? He didn't want Henry to be left out.

Several times this weekend, Nick has been asking me, "Mommy, are we going to your school again?" I think he really enjoyed it.

Just a Few Tastes of My Weekend

 Here are just a few tastes of what I did this weekend.

I sat on the floor and played with my children. We played blocks, colored, and picked up all of the cheerios Henry threw on the floor. Check out what Nick made. He ran into the kitchen shouting, "Look Daddy, I made a F!"

No, I didn't suggest that Nick do this or even notice what he was building. I was distracted by Henry while he was doing it. Yes, I let myself get all excited at his intelligence and ingenuity. . . for about five minutes. Then he pooped his pants and made me chase him around the house so I could change him. As are all children, my three-year-old is advanced in some things and far behind in others. Such is life.

January is not my favorite month. The cold air and lack of sunlight bothers me in December, but all of the Christmas cheer and the promise of a vacation cheers me up. In January, there is nothing to console me on these dreary days and long winter nights. Certainly there is no warm air or real sunshine to be had. Even when it's sunny in January, the sky has this odd, grayish color that makes me want to take a long nap. . . with this guy. (I had several naps this weekend.)

This weekend, I wallowed in my dislike of the season. Both boys weren't feeling well, and I was feeling, well, lazy. Except for a brief trip to Walgreens to pick up some Henry medicine, I did not leave the house. In fact, I didn't even get dressed, though I went through multiple pairs of pajamas. That'll happen when you have a baby who throws food at you.

I snuggled with both boys and watched Planet Earth specials, or, as Nick calls them, "special animal movies." We like to describe what we see, and Nick has tons of questions.

Nick and I helped Henry get some exercise. He loves crawling across the floor, seeking out dangerous items. We sit on the floor with him so that we can find and thwart his evil plans.

I re-potted nine plants. The thing about learning to care for houseplants is that if you succeed, you must then constantly pot and re-pot as the plants grow and reproduce. Pardon the shoddy picture. January's bad lighting is no excuse for my horrid photography skills.

We ate hearty, winter food. This is the dish Greg made for us Saturday night. It is Philadelphia-style sirloin steak with a provolone cheese sauce, served with green beans and those little gourmet potatoes. Everything was good, though I thought the sauce was too strong for me. (Probably the sharp provolone.)

I also read six trashy novels, made homemade bread and oatmeal with Nick, gave myself a manicure, edited the last chapter of a book I'm working on, and spent multiple hours online moderating the online portion of the graduate school class I'm teaching and prepping for next week' classes. I guess I wasn't a total deadbeat. As January weekends go, this one wasn't so bad. . . except for the January gloom lurking outside. 

Signs of Growing Up

Everyday my Nicholas is becoming more of a little boy and less of a toddler. Soon I won't even be able to blame anything on the fact that "he is only two." Here are some recent signs I've noticed that my baby is growing up:

1. Creative Play. Nick has all-out conversations with all of his toys, and he role-plays things that have happened using his cars. The other day he had his cars all go to lap sit at the library, and he admonished them for running around and being "too loud cars."

2. Counting. Nick is starting to understand the concept, and though he can only count with one to one correspondence on a hit or miss basis, he's been getting more hits than misses lately. Point in case: Friday evening he says to me, "Mommy, I want raspberries. Put them in the purple bowl. One, two, three, four, five raspberries in my bowl." Then, he counted them to make sure I wasn't cheating him on the raspberries. Maybe it was just coincidence that he counted them correctly, but I was excited. I can't help it--I'm an elementary school teacher.

3. Coordination. Nick is starting to be able to put on and take off his clothing and shoes, to a point. I have to confess that I have spent very little time on this. Our babysitter is a stickler for teaching things step-by-step, and I admire her ability to patiently explain every step of putting on a sock, and then wait and talk through his impatience. It takes Nick forever to do this, but I love that he is learning how.

4. Letter recognition. On my way back from Iowa a few weeks ago, Nick started identifying letters on street signs. He also knows many stores simply by their signs, though I'm sure the distinctive color and shape of the signs have more to do with it than actual reading skills.  "Mommy, look! T is for Target. Are we going to go in there and go shopping? The "t" says "t" and T is for Toni!" (This is from Monday, I believe.)

5. Storytelling. Nick has started retelling lots of the books we read him, and he even memorizes some of the words. We let him take books to bed with him, and even though it's pretty dark in there, one night this week I could hear him quoting from this book he loves, "Edna." It's part of a poem (Recuerda, by Edna St. Vincent Milay), and he loves the way this poem sounds. Nick likes the line, "We were very tired. We were very merry. We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry."

6. Stinky feet. This is definitely a little boy sign. You know how babies and even toddlers always have that cute little kid smell? Nick is no longer one of them. Except for right after his bath, Nick smells like an amalgamation of crayons, dirt, kid sweat, and fresh air. It's not actually a bad smell, but it shows that he's not a baby anymore.

7. My son is a backseat driver. He's always telling me that the light is red and it is not my turn. Then he tells me that the light is green so I should go. Pretty soon he'll be commenting on my following distance or the no-turn-on-red sign. Perhaps.

While I'm often frustrated with his behavior (you'll notice I have consistently avoided the entire topic of potty training), I am usually pleased with his growth. I'm a little wistful that his baby years are mostly behind him, but it is so nice to have actual conversations with him. I'm torn between feelings of pride and regret. Regardless, I think Nick, sometime recently, has crossed the line and is officially a little boy, even if he won't be three for another month.

Time With My Guys

This week was really crazy for me, so I didn't get to see much of these guys.

I had to work until past their bedtimes two nights in a row. So despite the fact that I have lesson plans to write, tutoring to do, graduate school papers to grade, bills to pay, and I'm under a writing deadline (chapter is due in a week and a half), I'm absolutely determined to spend a lot of time with my boys this weekend. I've noticed that since having Henry, I really need to be mindful during my time with my sons. So I spend an hour or two truly being with them and interacting genuinely. Then I do what I need to do, with a smile on my face.

When I got home today, I put on a DVD called "Letter Factory." It's a somewhat cheesy cartoon all about the sounds letters make. I'm not actively teaching Nick to read, but I figured it couldn't hurt for him to watch the video. He's started asking for it lately, and today, quite awhile after we had watched the video, just randomly, he told me, "Mommy, your name makes the "mmm" sound. M is for mommy!"

Henry is developing, too. We stopped swaddling him a few weeks ago. He can hold things now--see him holding the measuring spoon? He's wearing 3-6 month pants. Henry's onesies are still the 0-3 month size, but he's tall enough that the smaller pants fit him like capri pants, which are not stylish for little boys.  He is drooling like crazy and trying to chew on his fingers, my fingers, and anything he can get his hands on lately. (With the exception of a binky. He does not like binkies.) Isn't it way too early for him to be teething?

Nick and I sang songs this evening and we spent almost an hour reading stories together. Henry sat on my lap and watched, too. One of the books we read was on body parts, so every time they referred to a body part (like an elbow, for example), Nick found his elbow, then my elbow, and finally Henry's elbow. Of course, when we got to the head, Nick decided to bonk his little brother on the noggin, but he's still learning about "gentle touches." Thankfully, Henry is a pretty forgiving little man.