Oh, and the picture above? That was taken after some friends brought over some Italian food, complete with Italian bread which Little I decided to abscond with. Mom E and I looked up and wondered where the bread went. And where was Little I? He was in the dining room munching on the end of the loaf!
Monday, August 18, 2008
I wanted to just say thank you to all our friends and family who have helped us--and continue to help us--with the transition from one to two children. Obviously, the biggest help came from GG who spent three weeks with us, doing everything from cooking to cleaning to sewing to babysitting. We cannot thank you enough. Others have prayed for us, called us to make sure we're doing okay, visited us, and offered to bring food. These all raise our spirits and it has been a big help for Mom E to not have to worry about meals these first few weeks. I certainly don't mind sampling others' culinary talents at all!
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Having grown up with three sisters, I was excited at the prospect of having two sons who were close in age. No offense to my sisters--I love them--but there really is something neat about brotherhood. While an exchange student in Finland, I lived with a family of three boys, making me the fourth "brother" of three very different guys who were close in age to me. It was great. For three months we ate meat and potatoes in large quantities, we played sports, we hung out with friends, we talked about girls, we had excellent comraderie. I'm hoping Little I and Mr. C will be best buds, even though I can already tell that they will have very different personalities.
Now, from everything you hear, boys are harder to raise at younger ages and girls are more difficult in the teen years. From what I've observed, that is probably true. However, Little I and Mr. C can both be very sweet. Little I will often give unsolicited kisses to Mom E and myself and even to Mr. C.
However, Little I will also try to step on Mr. C, take off his socks, and violently rock him in his car seat or bouncer. Really, Little I is just an active toddler. If Mom E and I don't engage him or give him activities, he will invariably get into trouble--usually on purpose. So we spend a lot of time doing things with Little I, like playing "gnames" (games) from dawn to dusk.
A typical morning conversation might go like this.
(whimper in his crib) "Dada? Dada?"
"You want to play ball?"
"You want to hit a ball?"
"Throw. . . Catch."
"Alright, let's get your ball . . ."
Other sports words include "kick," "mintt" (mitt), "shoot," "hoop," "arack" (raquet), "bat," "hat," "pitch," "nna" (tennis), and "goff" (golf). These usually get more use when Little I wants me to play with him. He can spend hours playing a "gname." I may be surprised, but I don't expect that Mr. C will have the same obsession with sports as Little I has. At least, it would be surprising to me if Little I's enthusiasm could be matched. I do have a feeling that Mr. C will get interested in something else boyish--like bugs or dinosaurs or trains or trucks or something. Regardless, I am sure that Mom E and I will have our hands full for a few years while we keep up with these two cannonballs.