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Penny was away taking New York by storm this weekend, so it was just me and Ethan at home from Friday night through Sunday morning. I’d been secretly looking forward to this for a while, not because I wouldn’t miss Penny (obviously), but because I knew it would be fun to have eBear all to myself for some good old-fashioned father-son time.
We got up early Saturday morning and played blocks (I built things, he knocked them down Godzilla-style) and then headed over to the YMCA for the open gym. This is something both of our neighbors with kids Ethan’s age have recommended, so I wanted to see what it was all about. There are things to bounce on, balls to throw, kids to play with, and—best of all—a gigantic pit filled with big foam blocks for Ethan to run and jump or slide into. (No adults allowed. I was kind of jealous.) He absolutely loved it.
After the YMCA, I took him to the local municipal airport, which has a little cafe overlooking the runway and air traffic control tower. We shared a plate of banana pancakes, did some stickers, and then walked over to the runway to watch some planes take off. Ethan loved this, too. He’s big into airplanes these days.
I had to leave him with my mom for the afternoon so I could attend a memorial for a co-worker who recently passed away, but when I got home we hit the road again for dinner out: a veggie sandwich for me, a grilled cheese for him, and a shared lemonade for us both. (I successfully went a whole weekend without cooking. Score!)
All in all, a great time with my best little buddy.
So Ethan had his annual “well visit” with his pediatrician last week, and everything was pretty much in order in terms of his health and development, with one exception. His weight has basically plateaued since his last check up in November. His pediatrician wants to monitor it for a while and see how he’s doing in six months.
This was a surprise, but it probably shouldn’t have been. For about a month or so leading up to the doctor’s appointment, Ethan had become an incredibly finicky eater. He’d discovered he could actually say no to our offerings of whole wheat pasta, seven-grain waffles, and organic vegetable soup. Suddenly, meal times were filled with shrieks of “DON’T WANT!” and “DON’T LIKE!” followed by the defiant act of covering his mouth with his hands.
Very discouraging for all involved.
Also at work here, we think, was some more teething–he was due for another set of molars to come in, and I think they were doing just that during this four-week stretch. So tooth pain probably didn’t help. Interestingly, Ethan never lost his taste for ice cream. (Shocking, right?)
So, grudgingly, we’ve made some changes. Goodbye organic whole wheat waffles, hello Leggo My Eggo. That kind of thing. It’s a matter of calories–he’ll eat what tastes good, so we’re compromising a little to get those calories into him.
We’ve also discovered a little something about toddlers and meal time. They don’t (or at least he doesn’t) like to sit still long enough to eat a whole meal. So now I find myself following him around throughout the day and letting him nibble his food wherever the mood strikes him. (The things you do as a parent!) Meanwhile, Ethan thinks this is great. He can play and eat at the same time!
I have no idea if I should be doing this. Are we teaching him bad habits? Or are we just adapting to his specific needs? I couldn’t begin to guess.
But it’s all worth it, since he’s back to eating like normal again. Hopefully six months from now he’ll pass that weight test with flying colors.
And then it’s back to the whole grain stuff!
Ethan’s current primary obsession is wind turbines (or “windmills,” as he calls them). They’ve popped up all over the area recently, with one on Route 93 heading into Boston, one on the new road into Salem, and a gigantic one whirring smack dack in the middle of downtown Newburyport near the train station.
You can’t get Ethan into the car without protests unless you promise to take him to see either a windmill or one of his other current obsessions, such as a tunnel (a.k.a. an overpass), a digger (a.k.a. a backhoe), or a yellow school bus.
Introduce any one these into a car ride, and suddenly it becomes an event worth remembering for days, even weeks, later. Like the time last week when we saw a tunnel, a digger, and a yellow school bus all at the same time on our traditional Thursday morning Starbucks run.
Ethan loves them all, but none more than his windmills. Which is why after we took him to the zoo for the first time on Sunday, all he wanted to talk about afterward were the windmills he’d seen on the way. Was he impressed with the wolves? The bears? The zebu? No. My little Don Quijote was only interested in his windmills.
Well, those and the pink flamingos, which (as he’ll tell anyone who’ll listen to him) were “stinky.”
More fun with mispronounciations from Ethan:
Bruella = umbrella
Astronaut = restaurant
Kindle Maker = KinderMusik
Sometimes it takes a parent to understand just what exactly your kid is saying.
I made a promise on day one of this blog never to tell any stories about baby poo. I’d planned to stick to that promise, too, but Ethan sure isn’t making it easy. And I suppose technically speaking this is a story about toddler poo, so I’m still true to my word.
Anyway, we’ve slowly begun the process of potty training. It was actually Ethan’s suggestion. He kept asking for his own potty, and who are we to refuse such a request? So about a week or two ago Penny bought a standalone little toilet for him, and for that first day he was so excited that he tried to use it maybe seven or eight times.
Now, however, the magic is already gone. Ethan shows absolutely no interest in it anymore, and it sits alone in the bathroom like just another discarded toy whose time has passed.
We’re not going to force him to use it, figuring eventually his love affair with having his own toilet will rekindle on its own. But we’ve decided to keep giving him the option to use it just so he gets comfortable with the idea. That leaves me having conversations like this one from earlier today.
Me: “Ethan, do you need to use your toilet?”
Ethan: “No, thank you.” (He’s very polite.)
Me: “You sure?”
Ethan: “Don’t need to.”
Me: “No?”
Ethan: “Already have a diaper!”
How do I argue with bulletproof logic like that? Foiled by my two-year-old.
Recently Ethan has started exhibiting a passion for headbutts. He seems to think they’re incredibly fun. And, judging from the giggles that ensue, incredibly funny, too.
(Side note: I no idea how he discovered the art of headbutting. It’s not like this is a behavior we’ve modeled for him.)
Obviously, we’ve been trying to steer him away from the headbutting. So today, Ethan unveiled his compromise solution: the “hug-butt.” This is something he’s apparently invented himself, and it’s a vast improvement over the alternative. It basically consists of him running toward you at full speed, colliding into your legs, and wrapping his arms around you while giggling wildly and yelling, “HUG-BUTT!”
What can I say? At least he’s showing creativity and a knack for problem solving. Also, it doesn’t hurt as much.
Ethan’s favorite place in the whole world right now is, and I quote, “on the MommyDad bed.” It’s like this mystical forbidden playland for him. He just loves being on our bed. This is where he gets his night-night stories, where daddy launches him like a rocketship onto a pile of pillows, and where he usually manages to get us to sing a few songs to him before bed. In fact pretty much the only thing he’s not allowed to do on the MommyDaddy bed is actually sleep in it. Which is too bad, because this is what he truly wants most in the world.
Last night around 3:00 a.m., because he wasn’t feeling well and because he kept crying out from his crib, I caved and he finally got his wish. This sometimes happens when he’s sick, and last night his cold had turned into shallow breathing and a cough. He had similar symptoms last year and it turned into pneumonia, so I wanted him in bed with us anyway so I could make sure his breathing stayed OK through the night.
Well, Ethan thought this was the Best Thing Ever.
In the pitch black silence of half past three in the morning, he started belting out ”Twinkle, twinkle, litte star…”
I shushed him.
Later, the singing started again, this time ”Row, row, row your boat…”
Again I shushed him.
Later, he began pinching us and giggling. Very naughty.
But eventually he finally fell asleep. Or so I thought. Very quietly, I whispered to Penny that maybe we should take him to the pediatrician in the morning, just to be safe.
Suddenly, in a perfectly nonchalant little voice, Ethan added: ”And get a lollipop there!”
Needless to say, I didn’t get much sleep last night. But I think Ethan had one of the best nights of his life… on the MommyDaddy bed.
Ethan is making tremendous strides with his language skills—he’s using complete sentences already!—but there are a few words that still give him trouble. My favorites: “marshmuscles” (marshmallows) and “orny” (orange). Maybe it’s just the proud dad in me, but I like his versions a lot better than the real ones.
Ethan turned two this week. Hard to believe, since in some ways it feels like he was just born. But in other ways—in entirely good ways—it also feels like he’s been with us forever. Since his birthday fell on a Thursday this year, and since Thursdays are my day at home with him, I planned a special father-son day to celebrate.
First we went to the bank—you have to understand this is one of his favorite activities because it involves getting a lollipop from the teller—and then it was off to iParty to pick up a coveted “Monkey Balloon,” a.k.a. the Curious George balloon he’s wanted for some time now. Balloons are Ethan’s second favorite thing at the moment, behind only Curious George himself, so combining those two items equals one happy toddler.
Speaking of monkeys, we spent the bulk of the day at Monkey Joe’s, a sort of indoor playground comprised largely of inflatable bouncy things. Ethan had a blast sliding and jumping and bouncing and just playing with other kids.
After a few hours at Monkey Joe’s we moved on to Ben & Jerry’s in Salem, where I ordered his ice cream cake for tomorrow’s family party. We had hot dogs for lunch at the Boston Hot Dog Company right next door to the Ben & Jerry’s, and then headed home for nap time. (We both needed it, but only he really got one.)
All in all, a great day with a great kid. I’m a lucky dad.
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