first haircut

We did it... shaved his head that is. Okay, we just buzzed it. He sat on my husband's lap, and we just took turns with the clippers until it was like this. Babs can't keep her hands off his fluffy little head. (Not that she was very good at it before...) I miss his reddish locks, but is he not still adorable?

(No during pictures, both parents were busy. And the kids are not really photographers yet. Another post on that another day.)

my sweet boy at almost 15 months

This is my adorable boy, looking moderately cute. Should I shave his head? I need to save some of those adorable locks, and that's the only way I can see them being long enough. Since his hair is straighter than straight (something he shares with his dad and a sister) I can brush it out of his eyes all day long, and it just comes back. (Also just like his dad.)

My boy climbs now. On chairs, on beds, on tables... His favorite thing to do in the morning is go climb in bed with Babs, except she's still asleep, and he "pats" her. Once he "patted" her with his metal bus, three times, in one morning. Then he lost his bus for a while. I try to keep him off the table, but yesterday when I stopped giving him the evil eye about it, he not only climbed onto the table, but he also walked across it to me. Wasn't he pleased with himself.

Speaking of walking, in the afternoon now he walks all the way to the school for us to pick up Kiddo. It's mostly downhill, so I'm sure that makes it easier, but he is so happy to be out of the stroller. Tonight was a church activity, and I lost him twice. I'm not used to counting three heads of children following me. I need to start remembering he's mobile. I don't remember having this problem with the first two.

He's having trouble sleeping these days, and has spent a lot of the last few nights up with us, for hours at a time. This is getting old fast. Last night he slept through the night, thanks to my husband's faith-filled prayer. Tonight we are not even in bed and he is already crying. Yuck.

He's starting to understand so much. There is a lot of communication going on, and he is thrilled with it. His two favorite words are "shoes" and "outside." He has a sound for "Babs- leave me alone!" and "I want that" and "get this food off my tray and let me down or I'll start dropping it..." although that one is pretty subtle, usually it takes food being dropped over the side for me to take him seriously. He also enjoys wearing his bibs, until he doesn't. He knows the names of many of his favorite foods though.

He also knows how to clasp his hands and bow his head for prayers. He may well be our most reverent child for prayers currently.

I put him back in footed pajamas last night. I love this age.

roadkill

Two weeks ago on the way to school there was a dead squirrel in the road, clearly the victim of an unfortunate encounter with a car. I saw it on the way to school, showed it to Babs as we came home, then Kiddo saw it as we walked home that afternoon.

"Did Babs kill it?" Kiddo asked, knowing of her hunting expeditions.

"No."


The next day, it was thankfully gone. Babs asked, "Where did my friend 'dead squirrel' go?"

Now she has a lot more respect for the consequences of being hit by a car.

And she cheers on every squirrel that makes it safely across the road.


About a week ago we saw a snake on the side of the road, also a victim as it was completely flat. That night Babs prayed all by herself, "Bless I never see a dead snake again."

chapel time at preschool

Babs attends the same preschool as Kiddo did. One of the reasons I chose it was because although it was sponsored by a church, the religious aspect was very low key, just prayers said before snack and an actual Christmas program. Two years later, with a different pastor and a different preschool director, there is the bi-monthly chapel time.

Being who I am, I sit in on chapel time, because I want to know what is being taught to my daughter. The first time was a rather benign story about Moses and manna, that contained way more detail than was needed for a bunch of preschoolers. When we quizzed Babs about what they talked about, she replied "A story about Moses." Which one? "They were in the desert, and food came from the sky?" as if in the retelling she thought about how preposterous it sounded, and needed verification that such craziness had actually been told to her. We assured her it was a true story. Food did just appear while the Israelites were wandering in the desert.

The next time, the pastor talked to them about water, and how it can quench our thirst, and clean us when we're dirty. Then she showed them a small basin of water, that looked an awful lot like a medium sized metal mixing bowl. As she held it up for all the children to see, she proudly announced, "This is the baptismal font!"

I think I breathed out very fast, and hopefully quietly. I was totally unprepared for that announcement. She (the pastor) then proceeded to talk about the tradition of baptism, that many of the children may already be baptized, and that "Jesus was baptized by... I mean in, the River Jordan." And I suddenly knew our Family Home Evening topic for the next week.

Babs has never mentioned this event in her description of preschool. For all I know she was oblivious to the entire event. But I will keep attending chapel time, and keep making sure that at the end of the day, my four-year old hears from me what we believe.

(And in the retelling, I am always grateful that this didn't happen with Kiddo, who knows what she would have told the pastor in response to that announcement.)

going, going, gone (the first lost tooth)

Five months ago at her last dentist appointment, Kiddo was told that she had a number of loose teeth, and she should start wiggling. They didn't feel loose to me, but sure enough, she now has a number of loose teeth. But she doesn't wiggle them much, so they just get looser on their own.

Then one day she complained that there was something poky in her mouth. I looked, and saw a permanent teeth coming up behind her baby tooth. I told she for sure should try to wiggle that one, and we eventually saw the dentist, who said that it was no big deal and just keep at it.

But her really loose tooth was in the front. It got looser and looser, but never ready to just slip out. It was moving though, poking out in different directions and from many angles, it looked like her tooth was already gone. Numerous adults looked at the tooth, and offered to just pull it out for her. This caused Kiddo to scream and cover her mouth. There would be no pulling.

This morning she came in for breakfast crying. "What's wrong?"

"It really hurts, I'm ready to have it pulled out."

At first glance I thought it was gone, because it was caught up under her lip. So then we became serious about this.

I tugged a few times, no luck. Then I asked my husband to try (although I wasn't sure about that, because I'm the cold-blooded one when it comes to unavoidable pain in our children). He tugged once or twice, then stopped.

"Let's say a prayer," he suggested, and he then prayed for courage and that we could do it. Then he gathered Kiddo in his arms, looked at me and said "Do it."

So I got my best grip on a small slimy tooth, and tugged once or twice more, then it came. And as soon as it came out the tears stopped, and it was finished.... this round anyway.

happy birthday to me, from my four-year old

On Monday, coming home from preschool, Babs and I discussed my birthday. "What will I get you for a present?" she wondered. I suggested, love me, be nice to her brother, and she rejected those ideas. She wanted to get me an actual present. Seeing how on Saturday her dad offered to take her to the store to buy me a present, and she said no, I didn't feel like I needed to help her much.

But, on Tuesday, we needed two things at the grocery store, and she's always more compliant when she thinks she's getting something, so I told her we were going to buy my birthday present from her. "But we need to get something I can share with you!" she reminded me.

I showed her one snack I like, "no." Then another, then another, both rejected. Then I told her I would only give her five choices, and then she'd have to decide, or we just wouldn't get anything. For choice number four, she counteroffered. "How about if we get this instead?" "But I don't really like those..." I replied. She also rejected my fifth choice, with another suggestion. "This is about me," I reminded her. "Oh yeah, oh yeah..."

So she decided, then said "Now close your eyes!" and pulled it off the shelf, then handed it to me.

"Surprise! Happy Birthday!"