2 and a half

A sad ending

A sad ending to what I had hoped would be the opposite. As a father to two girls I teared up while reading Rick's post:

It is with great sadness that we have to share the news that our baby Julia died Tuesday morning. She suffered from an unrecoverable brain injury and internal bleeding that most likely started on Friday and got worse due to the heavy anti-coagulants she had to take while on the heart support machines. She was too sick to remain on the heart transplant list and could not recover enough to get back on it.

Holding her for the last time while she peacefully drifted away and realizing we would never see her again was the most difficult thing in the world. She had a strong spirit and will be missed so much. We still have a great life and a lot to live for, so we will find a way to get better and get through this. Thanks to everyone for pulling for us and praying for us. May peace be with us all.

Baby Julia

My wife's friend Rick has a baby named Julia. She's 20 months and underwent mitral valve replacement surgery on April 30. Whether or not you know that the means, there were complications and she's been battling to stay alive. Two days ago she nearly died. Her story is here - pray that the doctors do the right things and that her body is strong enough to recover.

First tooth

Gracie has her first tooth coming in and she's handling it like a champ. There is minimal crying and a low drool ratio - so far at least. Maybe it depends on the tooth - this one's easy, the next one is hard. Or maybe she's just a tough little 8-month old. Can't wait - she's about to look like a little pirate. We'll have to fit her for an eye patch.

Happy Mother's Day

Suzanne,

Happy Mother's Day.

Thank you for all that you give as a mother - I am grateful as a father and our daughters are grateful as your girls. You're doing a wonderful job and all your work helps in so many ways including helping me to write memorable stories about Audrey and Grace on this blog.

Love John

Army crawl

Grace seems to have entered the army. Or at least she moves like it.

She's mobile now but it's not crawling - it's dragging herself across the floor, arm over arm with legs in tow. Like an army soldier.

Let's say there's a red ball 10 feet away. A month ago she would have stared at it, perhaps wishing she had it in her grasp. Now, in a matter of 10-20 seconds, she's got it.

She makes it look good - her form and her speed are things to be marveled at for an 8-month-old. The surface is irrelevant - carpet, hard wood, tile, she conquers it all. Stairs remain a challenge but that's a good thing.

It's a whole new ball game for mom and dad. A stationary baby is an asset, a mobile one a potential liability. The days of confidently placing her on a bed or changing table or some other elevated object are gone - there's risk in all of that now. And small objects can't be left lying around (pay attention, Audrey) - Grace can now go get them and put them in her mouth.

The real crawl is right around the corner.

How to use my blog

I wrote this post on my other blog as a tutorial of sorts. I figure it might be useful to someone somewhere and, given the similar layout here, it might be useful here too.

Dr. Seuss's ABCs, reinvented

Audrey likes to read Dr. Seuss's ABC book each night. It's been great because she learns her letters while also being entertained by bizarre creatures like the Zizzer Zazzer Zuzz.

But now there's a twist. She wants me to read the book "funny" - as in, I completely make up the storyline as I go in a way that's both funny to her and tame enough for a 3-year-old's ears. It's not easy.

For some reason I tend to default to bathroom humor, which I view as tolerable but which my wife has declared is only appropriate while using the potty. I might, for example, say that the camel on the ceiling on the page about the letter "C" is about to go pee. Audrey laughs like crazy at that but it could get me in trouble. Or I might suggest that the picture of a foot Kicking a Kettle on the "K" page is instead going to kick the Kitten's booty and send her flying toward the King's face. You get the point.

As the pages wear on it's really tough to come up with funny stuff. I'm like a comedian on a stage who is running out of jokes. By the time the letter "T" arrives I'm fresh out of creativity and am reading straight from the page. She notices less by then but still notices.

The Zizzer Zazzer Zuzz is, of course, on the "Z" page and it provides some relief. The creature is so strange looking that it's easy to poke fun at. And then, freshly inspired, Audrey wants to move on to the next book and asks me to read it "funny" again.

Returning to baby food

Grace is eating baby food now (as you might expect at nearly 8 months old) and even ate her first Cheerio today. But the thing is, Audrey is eating baby food now too (again). I can't quite figure that out - did it ever taste good enough to go back to? Apparently so because she's even willing to consider it for dessert - just as long as she can get her hands on some. And she's not so willing to try just any baby food - it must be Carrots. Forget about the Peas, Sweet Potatoes or Harvest Squash Turkey (yes, there's a baby food called that too) that she used to eat. So naturally we run out of Carrots a lot. Grace doesn't care yet but I bet she will. It's her food, after all. The battle is yet to come.

Happy Cinco de Mayo girls

This onesie says it all. What, exactly, did you girls lose?

7pm

It's just another time of day on the one hand but there's something special about 7pm on the other. It is a lot different than 8pm, generally speaking. 7pm can mean the next day is more full of bliss and good behavior while 8pm might mean crankiness and fits. 7pm helps to clear the evening so us parents can relax while 8pm can leave precious little time for other activities.

Not sure what it is about 7pm but it just seems to work.

I'm talking about Audrey's bedtime, of course. We had been on the 8pm bandwagon for a long time when 7pm came along a couple weeks back. And when it did things changed. Unexpected and almost miraculous things began to happen. Cheerier mornings, a willingness to eat meals when asked and a general upbeatness filled our household. Many of the challenges of life as a toddler remained but Audrey was a changed person.

Why 7pm works and 8pm doesn't isn't easy to determine, but for the most part Audrey wakes up around 7:30am regardless of when she goes to bed which means an extra hour of sleep is possible. And she has more or less done away with her afternoon nap which means she is more tired by that time of the day. 

There is more willingness to go down at 7pm as well. This means that if you start at 7pm it might take 20-30 minutes to change clothes, brush teeth and read a book or two. But at 8pm that same process might take an hour because she might put up a fight. And on top of that the excuses are more likely to come at you, rapid-fire: "I'm still hungry!" "I need to go pee!" "I want to go downstairs!" "Turn on more lights in the hall!" "I want more milk!" And the more you cater to each of these the longer the process runs. 

7pm helps mitigate these issues.

And it's not just we who like 7pm - Audrey clearly does too. She's in a better mood in general which means she must feel better. She doesn't have to have her day interrupted by a nap and instead can enjoy Beethoven or Barney during quiet time in the afternoon. And she gets the benefit of a more consistent routine.

7pm is the new 8pm. I just need to find a way to tell Grace. 

Pterodactyl

As I recall, a pterodactyl is a dinosaur-era bird that makes shrieking noises as it flies around in the air. At least that's the impression I got from watching The Flinstones at one point in time. The fact that they are extinct (or pretend, in the case of the Flinstones) is why I'm puzzled that there may be one in my house.

Her name is Grace I'm pretty sure she's trying to become the first pterodactyl to live since the Cretaceous period. Or at least she's trying to sound like it.

What usually starts as a low squeal becomes the loudest shriek you've ever heard a 7-month-old make. And she is capable of doing it over and over and you certainly can't tell her to stop because she has no idea what you're asking her to do. But I'm pretty sure if a pterodactyl flew by it would stop to roost on a branch outside in the hope of finding a long lost friend.

It hurts our ears. Even Audrey asks her to stop - you know it's loud when a 3-year-old's ears can't take it. But Grace loves to do it. Call it a phase. She's finding her voice.