In August 2003, I started keeping a journal of my past updates from the home page. And then in mid-May 2004, I moved to the blog-esque habit of creating permalinks for all the posts. Here is everything...
September 05, 2005 - loving my three-year-old -
Three is such a rough age. I've discovered that antagonism that I pooh-poohed when Everett's language was still so sweet. I've come to the point where I actually fight with my son, where we look at each other, teeth clenched, eyes wide, tempers boiling. We're so much alike, both so stubborn, both so easily forgivable.
September 04, 2005 - preschool -
"What do you do at preschool, Everett?" someone asked at church today.
"Ummm...wash my hands, and play."
So it is. Everett is loving his new preschool, and he's learning stuff.
August 24, 2005 - did I say something about potty? -
Well, Everett understands potty vernacular now. "I went potty, that means I get chocolate?" is his favorite refrain. Hershey's chocolate kisses were daddy's idea, and they have proved to be excellent bribes. Except. Except that they're limited to potty situations that fit Everett's parameters.
July 30, 2005 - potty works, whee!-
Everett and I have been talking 'bout the potty for well over seven months now. I had this theory that he could be potty trained by two-and-a-half. Ummm, no.
We talked, we read, we sat him on the potty at all hours of the day, we begged, pleaded, bribed, and promised. I'd say we tried every method out there. Except: the naked method.
The other day I wrote about our family lexicon at mama's site. And I have to put in a good word for my inbidible boy.
Everett has lots of go-to words for really good stuff. There are the "totally rad moves" and "was that a cool rad move mama?" from Backyardigans "surf's up" episode....
I've promised Everett a "Thomas party" for his birthday in - whoa, I'm totally not ready for this - TWO DAYS! And it wasn't until late last night that I got around to sending out invitations for said party. Have I done anything to get ready? Umm, no.
Poor kid is getting a reverse case of second-child syndrome. Or maybe that's, first-child-who's-so-independent-and-mama's-working-hard-and-worrying-about-things-other-than-cute-invitations-for-his-birthday syndrome.
In any case, if you're wondering, Everett's birthday party will be held at the same place as last year - Kenilworth Park, 34th and Holgate, at the wading pool, this Saturday around noon. We'll be posting an invitation later today.
July 13, 2005 - i was scared of the clip!-
"I was scared of the clip!" That's Everett's opening line these days. He says it as a hello to Grandpa (even for the third time in two days he'd seen him). He says it when introduced to a "friend" at the park. He says it when asked if he wants stickers at Trader Joe's. He yells it to the people walking past our house.
July 10, 2005 - sleep stories -
"Mom, it's bedtime!"
Has a sweeter sound ever touched my ears? I think not.
There's not an almost three-year-old in the world who couldn't occasionally be accused of schizophrenic behavior. Everett's no exception for sure.
See, we've been introducing a heavy dose of discipline into the mix. I've struggled to implement a "love and logic" parenting style, but given the way my patience has been tested over the past few months, I'm heading straight into the "spare the rod" camp.
We were arguing, daddy and I, about my instructions. I said that he should ask the person cutting Everett's hair to "keep the curls but just make it shorter all over." Jonathan thought that wasn't necessarily possible and wanted a backup plan. What? Just cut it shorter, I thought, but no buzzcuts please!
June 7, 2005 - developmental sweetness-
I wish I could record all of our conversations. It's so hard not to laugh, sometimes, when he says something that really should make me mad, or sad, but only makes me want to guffaw.
Do all toddlers suffer from some form of obsessive-compulsive disorder? We were discussing this at a birthday party today, where all of our children were displaying their unique desire for order, whether it be to avoid dirty hands at all costs or to organize all daddy's nails.
May 24, 2005 - brotherly love -
Here's how the conversation about Truman goes.
Everett "Can I pet her?"
mama "Of course, you can pet him."
Everett pets Truman's head so softly
May 14, 2005 - becoming a big brother -
Everett's growing up. There's no doubt about that. Given his recent morph into a big brother, he's also regressing in some annoying ways.
I'm simultaneously delighted by his cuteness and grown-upness, and mourning the loss of my toddler, and frustrated over his complete lack of control-ability.
May 13, 2005 - catch phrases -
In my "is this normal big brother behavior?" conversation today, Everett's pediatrician asked me today if he had catch phrases. The statements he returns to again and again in arguments, his "final say." Boy does he.
May 10, 2005 - growing up? or not -
Today was our first solo outing, just the three of us. Everett and Truman and I went to Mabel's to meet Larissa for some pre-Sebastian knitting time.
April 28, 2005 - big brother -
Everett became a big brother today! Truman was born at 6:24 p.m. today. He weighed exactly the same as Everett did at birth - 7 pounds, 7 ounces. He's also just as cute as Everett. Check out: Everett and Truman, compared.
April 5, 2005 - so, so happy -
"Are you happy, mama?" Everett says. Either (a) he's just done something that makes me very, very mad, or (b) he's just happy. He also (heartbreakingly) asks me "Mom, are you happy?" when it's obvious I'm not (times when I may, or may not, be mad at his daddy).
March 7, 2005 - My American Idol -
I'm watching American Idol right now, and as I watch, Everett launches into my favorite song from the kitchen. "I LOVE YOUUUUU! I LOOVVE YOOOOOUUU!" he sings, to me.
February 24, 2005 - you can do it, I can do it! -
Everett has been saying, "You can DO it!" in his most peppy voice a lot lately. I can, for instance, put together his train tracks, or sit on the floor with him and play, or go on a run around and around and around the block with him.
February 14, 2005 - happy valentine's day -
Mama loves Everett, for lots of reasons.
I love Everett because he wakes up in the middle of the night and says, "I looove you, mama" in a matter-of fact voice and then snuggles up for sleep.
February 8, 2005 - that thing about love -
My sweet child drives me batty. But every once in a while - and these times aren't rare, no, they happen several times daily - you get this overwhelming rush of yes, this is why I wanted kids, this is what it's about.
February 2, 2005 - yes, I am a bad mama -
It's official: I'm a Bad Mama. I just asked my son, who wanted to read Thomas the Tank Engine again, if he didn't just want to watch TV? Please?
In my defense, I had read the book four times in a row and was really sick of it. And...and...I made homemade French toast for breakfast. And unsweetened applesauce. That's got to count for something...
January 31, 2005 - experiments in potty training, or, the worst that can happen -
We've been working toward the holy grail of potty training for a while now, slowly, rather un-enthusiastically. I'm not what you'd call whole-heartedly committed to the process, but rather, I'm in the information-gathering stage. Where I've been for the past year.
January 26, 2005 - everett kitty, everett lamb -
My son is a kitty. Unless he is a lamb.
For the past several weeks, Everett has been playing kitty, with increasing frequency. I've read all about kids pretending to be pets, so it didn't surprise me. It does make me giggle, though, and sometimes cringe.
January 22, 2005 - the one where we have to break out the "p" word -
I've avoided using the "p" word on this blog mostly to avoid unwanted Google attention. But, this story is just too good to keep under wraps.
Tonight I took a bath and Everett was scared to be alone (there are evidently ghosts in the attic, despite my insistence that Grandma and Grandpa did a complete sweep for them when they demo-ed Everett's ceiling). So he came in to play with me.
January 15, 2005 - one smart cookie, and a stubborn one, too -
When we were driving home from Las Vegas with his uncles, I mentioned how Everett (having remembered for a good 100 miles that we'd left Toby the train at Aunt Betsy's house) was "one smart cookie." I didn't even use his name, just said, "he's one smart cookie."
November 20, 2004 - mama's so proud of her little boy-
Big milestones in my little boy's life today. First, Everett decided to use chopsticks at Noodlin' to eat his "twirly pasta" with cheese sauce. I fondly watched him, sure he'd give up in a minute and use his fingers.
November 14, 2004 - Play that funky nougat, mama -
A week or two ago I was swinging Everett in the park. He said something to me and I couldn't quite decipher it. The mom pushing her daughter next to me said, "push harder, mommy!" She turned out to be a speech therapist.
Hmm. Maybe I could become a speech therapist. I could use the knowledge, clearly.
October 28, 2004 - Fixing me -
As I sit here trying to do my very important blogging for tomorrow, Everett is "fixing" me. How is he fixing me, you ask? By sticking all my biggest, baddest knitting needles into my hair. Including the circular ones. I had a pony tail. Now I have a crazy witch-spinster-like creation that must look quite frightful. He got his hands on a large pair of scissors. As I felt the blade touch my scalp, we had to take that away and talk about how sharp things hurt.
I must have said something like, "I don't think so." Because now he's telling me, "mommy, i don't SINK so!"
Guess this is my cue to send him to bed. Important blogging will have to wait.
October 23, 2004 - Language and love -
I've been having a terrible time finding the mental room to write about Everett. But boy, am I loving him right now.
October 9, 2004 - He grows, he runs, he "be good, mama!"-
"I be good, mama! I BE GOOODD!!!" he wails. My heart tears apart. Yep, it's bedtime.
September 23, 2004 - The neglected son-
I've been having these overwhelming surges of love for my sweet son lately. I'm sure part of it is guilt ... guilt at not spending enough time with him because of my blogging and because of my pregnant exhaustion (in case you don't know, I'm six weeks pregnant), guilt because my own personal blogging has supplanted talking about how great Everett is.
September 17, 2004 - A few of the reasons I love Everett-
It's partly for his indubitable cuteness, his hugs and kisses, his blood of my blood. But there are lots more reasons, too.
August 29, 2004 - A walk with Everett-
It's a special joy reserved only for the energetic, brave and nimble. Walks with Everett are marathon obstacle courses peppered with charm and wit.
Everett has reached the age where he is, in turns, stubborn and delightful. Today as we walked down the steps I asked him, "Everett, do you want to sit in the stroller?" He responded, "Yeah, sit in stroller mama." then paused. "Everett likes that!"
August 27, 2004 - Olympics and Everett-
We haven't been getting much sleep lately. You see, mama is an Olympics fanatic. First, there's the obvious: track and field. Every hurdle race, relay and jumping event must be watched with the tightest attention to detail. Since they sprinkle coverage throughout the four-hour primetime, mama cannot be distracted from 8 p.m. to midnight. Gymnastics and the always-favorite women's mountain biking race are only slightly less necessary for life.
So, Everett doesn't go to sleep anywhere near bedtime unless Daddy or Uncle Matt puts him to bed. And he doesn't mind staying up until midnight and getting up at 9:30 a.m. You see, he's learning stuff.
First it was gymnastics. He's been working on his somersault for a while, and the Olympics prompted him to perfect it - plus a lovely "TAAA!" dismount with his arms up in the air and a huge smile.
Then, he actually figured out, on his own, how to get in the blocks for the start. He calls it "mark, gehset, go!" and asks to race with me by saying, "mama, marks gehset go? mama!" He's really quite good. And although his first few races were sadly slow out of the blocks, he's made huge strides in the past few days. You should see him, his start is the fastest at the playground. I've even taught him how to position his fingers - his first few starts he just put his palms down on the ground, now he's up on his fingertips.
And how does one put her son to bed when he's being so cute and sporty? When he's cheering for the 200 meter racers, jumping up and down, yelling "marks gehset go! more marks gehset go!" Your best best is to figure out a way to sleep in late the next morning.
August 8, 2004 - It's toddler temper time-
Is he very very good? Or is he awful? Depends on the moment you ask me, I suppose.
It's a control issue. Mama knows that. But it's really not easy when we're in the thick of it. Everett has taken to that favorite of all toddler activities, hitting mama and screaming when he doesn't get his way.
One minute everything is good, he's tumbling over the arm of my chair as I sit and type, flipping into my lap with the most amazing of acrobatic skill. The next minute, when I say "no" to Dora, Boots, or getting up to play yet another odd game of stick-and-ball (or maybe, racket-and-ball), he look at me murderously and winds up for the BIG HIT.
I don't stand for it, mind you. A couple of good slaps and he's banished from the room for as long as it takes to settle him down. A spirited scream almost never gets him what he asked for, any more. It's "calm down and ask nicely" or nothing.
Sometimes it works so well, he gives the little scream or murderous look clearly leading to a slap, I remind him of his duty to request in a nice way, and he goes in for the "please." Other times it devolves into a battle of wills. Everett screaming in staccato bursts clearly designed to create the maximum aching of mama's head. Mama taking deep breaths and saying, again, again and again, "Everett, you need to calm down and ask me nicely. No. You don't get anything if you scream. No, sorry, you need to stop screaming. STOP SCREAMING. NO. NO!" Did that last part seem calm to you? Anyway...
But what does a mama do when she's trying to get some work done, it's past a baby's bedtime, and all he can do is ask so nicely? If you look over and he's saying, "pees, mama, dance a song?" and doing his dyslexic sign language and his eyes, with the sweet smile and the anticipation, how can you work, how can you put him to bed? It is your lot to dance, dance to the strange cookie monster music box. Dance, mama, dance. Peese.
August 1, 2004 - One, two, three, sixteen, eighteen-
Everett likes to count. He started counting around 18 months with fives, fours and nines. First, everything was "four nine" then it changed to "five nine" ("mommy, five nine doggies!"), then he progressed to "four five nine" or "five four nine."
We were so proud of our smart little guy who couldn't help but count things. Of course, one and two would have been nice. We kept working with him and soon he was counting by twos: "one two three six eight ten!" or "one two six eight."
Natural numerical progression couldn't last for long, though. Around 23 months he chose to count forwards and backwards (especially if someone fed him the answer): nine chickens would be "one two six eight six nine chickens!"
Where, you ask, are the teens? Why does he stop at ten? I suppose he had to hit two before his numerical theory could extend beyond the decimal system's base.
Out of the blue, everything was "sisteen, eighteen!" He just counted his six cars after prompting from me and Aunt Hannah. It was "one two three sixteen eighteen six!"
Gone are the fours, fives and nines. Gone are the interesting numerical progressions. (when will he start counting in primes?) The way to count is with sixteens and eighteens.
It's so much more fun to count when you can just use your favorite numbers. Why stay tied down to boring numbers like four and twelve when you can stick with the cool numbers only? We should all be so lucky.
July 25, 2004 - Oh, Man! Oh, Darn! Oh...no-
Everett has entered the repetition phase of his language development. Sure, he would repeat words I said before...when I wanted him to ("what does the cow say, Everett? MOOOO?"). And he would often repeat the last word or two of my sentence when we were talking about something ("Everett, do you see that cool tree?" "Coo Tree!")
But in the last few days he has started with the strategy of attempting to repeat whole sentences. Even the ones I don't direct at him. The other day he started saying, "Oh, Darn!" I thought it was pretty cute. I giggled to myself. He didn't say it very many times, at least not when I was around.
One or both of Everett's parents may have a nasty habit of using mild profanity when they argue. That's all I can say. So when Everett started his newest phrase, today, we had an idea where it originated.
It was early this evening. Everett was walking past me into the kitchen, deep in a conversation with himself. "Oh, GOD!" he said. I thought about it for a minute. Did I just hear what I think I heard?
"Oh, GOD!" he said again, clear as day. Yep.
As if he knew just how funny I found this (despite my desperate endeavor not to), he began to repeat it. Again. And again. And so all evening we were treated to a virtual chant of mild profanity. "Oh, God! Oh, darn!" he said. And he uses just the right intonation, although perhaps he is a bit heavy-handed with its application.
As I mentioned on Blogging Baby, the way BabyCenter advises me to deal with this is to ignore it. Unless, of course, he starts using more shocking language, or doesn't stop on his own.
One of the methods suggested is to encourage using alternate, silly, exclamations. My favorite is Swiper the Fox's "Oh, MAAAN!" I tried that when I was getting Everett out of his car seat (having first stifled the silent giggles with which his daddy and I were wracked in the front seat). He said, "Oh, GOD!" I said, "Oh, MAAANN!" and laughed enthusiastically. Jonathan and I each said it again. He looked at me like I was from another planet and said eagerly, "Oh, God!"
Oh, no.
July 17, 2004 - birthday party-
Everett's party was a wild success, with plenty of friends, fun in the pool, and presents galore. Everett's new favorite word is "pesent," in fact. Thanks to everyone who came or sent well wishes, and special thanks to those who went out of their way to bring food, plates, and amazingly cool wading pool toys.
You are invited to Everett's birthday party! July 16, 2004 - Today our favorite toddler becomes our favorite two-year-old, complete with gigantic "2" candle (that he has been carrying around all morning, initially calling it a "5"), frosting all over his face, and complete and utter irrationality.
The day is barely begun, and already I have one for the record books. More later.
Everett has discovered the dismount. You know, like in gymnastics, when the hands go up in the air and the plastic smile is glued on for all the judges to see?
Of course, it needs that special Everett twist - the "TAAA!" at the end. I have no idea where he got it, but while we were waiting for Everett's first cousin to be delivered into the world, we were walking on NW 23rd and he started jumping off the cement parking space buffers with a big flourish and yelling "TAAAA!" with a little guttural flare.
Taaaa! is a game to be played with one, two or more players. Its rules are very simple, and usually involve climbing onto an upside-down laundry basket, jumping off a rock, doing a belly slide on a coffee table, building a tower of blocks, or your run-of-the-mill sprint to the living room, fall on your belly, roll over to your back and grab your toes move. After your move, however typical or extraordinary, it is important to clap, raise your hands in the air and yell "TAAAA!" (note: moves performed on your belly sometimes preclude raising your hands in the air)
Everett has become a showman extraordinaire, and he's not shy about bringing in guest perfomers. Yesterday, we were staying with our friends at a cabin in Manzanita, and Everett and Willow (three months his junior, but just as smart as Everett and just a tad bigger) put on a first-rate ring-around-the-rosy show. Willow has the comic timing of...well...Larry, Moe and Curly, to say the least. Her premature "fall downs" were the stuff of legend. And Everett's improvisational worldwide-wrestling moves demonstrated his slapstick genius.
And this morning? Everett's friend Henry came over. Everett leaped from a dead sleep into my arms to play with Henry, almost bowling him over with his excitement. And before long, Everett was standing on his rocking cow's back, scaring his nanny, yelling "TAAAA!"
Would it be unethical to put in a ticket booth on my front porch and start advertising the twice-daily Everett Show?
June 28, 2004 - moon cookies -
Everett learned early how to "pretend eat" things that he sees in his books, the newspaper, and his fertile imagination. Sometimes when I have nothing better to do I look through the Safeway ads and we eat everything that looks good to us. It gives him a chance to both ask his favorite question: whassis? (yeah, it's changed from whassat to whassis) and to be silly with me. Strawberries. Cereal. Milk. Big hunks of raw meat. We eat it all.
Everett's typical method of "eating" food from photos is to say, "ass some?" and then "pick it up" with his finger and thumb, bring it to his mouth, and make little eating sounds and say, "ummm, UMMM!" shaking his head the way I taught him. Sometimes if we're being really funny I'll hold the book up to his mouth to give him a drink of juice, or pretend like I'm gulping the food down. He thinks it's hilarious.
Sometimes he will see food where I just can't. He found some "kok-lit" (chocolate) on an ornate book title the other day. I still can't see what he saw, but it was evidently good. He is so creative that sometimes I don't realize he's found something good to "eat" until he's already gobbled down gallons of it, to his great amusement.
So it took me several minutes Saturday to realize what he was "eating." We went on a late evening walk, we were both wired and in need of some fresh air. The moon was about 2/3 full. He reached up toward the sky, said, "cookie!" and ate "some." It was good.
Two or three cookies later, I realized that the moon was the cookie. I asked for some and he gave me a bite. Once he struggled so hard to reach up to the very sky, to touch the moon, that I almost fell over laughing. So now I call it "moon cookies."
Last night, I made chocolate chip cookies, and when we came home after our walk, full on moon cookies, he still wanted another "koklat cookies." I started calling these, too, moon cookies, and it was gigglicious.
And do you know what? Life is so much more fun when you're eating moon cookies. You should really try some.
June 27, 2004 - a room of his own -
Those of you who have been to our house know that we've been working on the upstairs, with priority on Everett's room, for about two years now. Well...we're finally done! Everett moved in to his very own room yesterday. By "moved" I mean most importantly, "slept." He slept for a truly earth-shattering 10 hours. By himself. Alone. In his room.
Any of you who have ever heard Jonathan describe our sleeping arrangements will be truly amazed. The rest of you should mark this day as a huge step in our family's lives. Jonathan, who has been sleeping on the couch for months, will finally have a place on the other side of our bed. (well, until the next baby comes along, but that's at least 10 or 11 months from now)
I worried that Everett might be reluctant to sleep alone, at least at first. I worried that it might be an adjustment to get him to love his own room. No such worry was necessary. Providently, I helped the cooperative play park I belong to move into storage for the summer, and was offered a plastic playhouse to "store" at our home. It fits neatly into the little alcove that will one day hold the next child's bed...and Everett loves it. It's his "house" and he immediately set about ordering me to bring things to his house, like chairs and books.
So last night, Everett wasn't going to settle down for anything. Until we made his bed (a twin mattress on the floor in the alcove, it's very cozy) and I gave him his bottle. He turned to me, pushed me a little and said, "bye bye!" His indication that it was time for me to leave. I left, he fell asleep, that was the end of it until 10 hours later.
I'd like to report hallelujah-inducing sleep but I kept waking up because I'm so used to getting him bottles in the middle of the night. I wonder when I will adjust as well as Everett...
I want to report on all the other cute things Everett has been doing lately. Like how he holds three tennis balls in his hands during play dates at the park, struggling up and down the little ladders and slides and steps with his hands full, leading other kids on a chase for the coveted balls. Like how he is so fast and has learned the "on your marks, get set, go!" and his "on your marks" is so grown up, so like his daddy. Like how he has learned to use "thank you!" and "sorry" very sweetly but tends to use them prospectively, as in, "thank you!" when he's waiting for a treat, or when he should be saying "you're welcome", or "sorry" when someone is in his way and he's about to shove past. Like how he says "cheers" and clinks his milk bottle to our adult beverages.
But it's past my bedtime. I'd better start taking advantage of this 10 hour sleep before I get pregnant again...
Everett is just funny. Yeah, ask him. He'll tell you.
The first time he told me that was a few days ago. He was hiding under the blanket, and when I looked underneath he would say "kick-a-boo!" and giggle and then say, "I funny!"
By yesterday he was saying the "m" firmly. "I'm funny!" he announced to his daddy, tumbling over his shoulder. "I'm funny!" Who am I to argue? There's nothing as funny as an almost-two-year-old who tells you so.
The little exchanges we have sometimes make me want to roll on the floor doubled up in laughter. The best was Friday, when we went on a mega-walk, ending up in the triple-jump pit at the Cleveland track. He insisted that we both take our shoes and socks off to "walkin" in the sand. By the time I was past ready to go, he had decided that he was never leaving. He laid down in the sand, carefully, and said, "I nap!" Firmly.
So, like any reasonable toddler's mom, I decided to use bribery. We had just bought some tortilla chips at Wild Oats. "Do you want to go home and have some chips?" I asked. "No, I nwanna chips!" he said firmly, shaking his head in the sand.
Hmmm. "Do you want to have some milk?" I tried. "No, I nwanna milk!"
Desperate now. "Do you want to go home and have some candy?" "No, I nwanna canny!"
Realizing this is just a game, I start asking all kinds of other things that he likes. Chicken. Hamburgers. Carrots. Apples. Oranges. Toast. "No, I nwanna!" he says, repeating the name of everything.
I'm giggling now, and can't think of anything else. "Wenk Ies?" asks Everett. (that's french fries for the uninitiated in Everettese) "Do you want to go home and have some french fries?" I ask. "No, I nwanna wenk ies!" he says, clearly very pleased that I took the bait.
That's just cute. That's beyond cute. It earned him a few more minutes lying in the sand, me giggling over his undying cuteness. And I'm sure that's all he wanted...
May 31, 2004 — Loo Loo LOOOOO and other sounds -
The whole family had Sunday off, so we took it with the gusto Memorial Day deserves. We started with late breakfast at Beaterville, where Everett met a friend.
Greta was a little firebrand who looked a lot like she was my daughter. She and her mama reminded me of my friend Kate and her daughter, Stella. Greta knew immediately that Everett, and I, were cool and immediately came over to play when we sat down in the baby wing of the restaurant. Everett was in a cranky, tired and hungry mood, so at first he wouldn't play with her. She insisted and persisted until they were happily reading books together.
I, of course, encouraged this interaction - I wanted a chance to eat my breakfast, being a cranky pregnant lady (only a smidge better than a cranky toddler), and I thought Greta was just a doll. So in no time they were hopping up and down on the booth seating next to me doing the "quack quack quack cock-a-doodle-do" dance from the Wiggles.
You don't know this dance? It's basically a chicken dance in which Everett jumps up and down, flapping his arms like wings and saying, "kack, kack, kack, kack, kack!" It's pretty funny and adorable. It's loud. It didn't bother me or the other family with a baby in the room, and the only other couple there was about to leave anyway. It did concern Greta's mama, who had childless houseguests to contend with. She shortly put a stop to the quack quack dance.
I loved Greta, and it sealed the deal when she insisted on giving Everett a hug and a kiss goodbye - when we were getting in the car, outside. Her mama was embarrassed and in a hurry. I was totally charmed.
We hit the road, sure that Everett would sleep for a long time, and we drove somewhat aimlessly from place to place, stopping to see a glider take off, and to take a picture of a cool barn. Memorial Day weekend is one of Oregon's two biggest wine tasting weekends of the year, so we stopped at a few wineries, where we could take turns watching Everett while we sampled figs and cheeses and oh yeah, wines.
But the funniest part of the trip was after Everett awoke, at the Blue Heron winery and cheese shop. The children's diversion was a small petting zoo, complete with llamas, goats, chickens, geese, and the all-important rooster.
So as I'm coaxing Everett to open his hand while feeding the goat (who ends up licking his hand half-open - Everett much prefers to throw the food in the puddles), the roosters start crowing. I know Everett, who loves the quack quack quack cock-a-doodle-do song, knows what roosters are supposed to say.
Everett's response? As always, he imitates immediately. "Loo Loo LOOOO LOOOOO!" he yells, throwing his arms in the arm. "Loo Loo LOOOO LOOOOO!"
You know, that's pretty close to the actual sound the roosters were making. You go Everett, you little animal impersonator. If you could only hear his elephant sound. And the moose (bb-mmmm--oooooo-SSZZZZZ!!!) What a prodigy.
May 19, 2004 — better than sweeps -
So tonight was the season finale of The West Wing, one of mama's all-time favorite shows. There must be something about Wednesday...last Wednesday Everett finally fell asleep around 11 p.m. Tonight was even worse.
I'd put him to bed, with his bottle and his book, he would quietly lie there for 10 minutes or so, then get up and trot out to play with me some more. I kept asking him to go to bed, he would say "NO!" emphatically with a nod of the head for good measure.
As I try desperately to watch West Wing, and do some much-delayed work, Everett turns into Mr. Affectionate and absolutely adorable, sending me into fits of laughter. This is an actual quote: "Effwett a-wee head!" and he slaps his forehead with his hand and giggles, hugs me really tight, and does it again, and again, and again. He starts kissing me with his forceful, mouth-open, against-the-temples kisses ("no teeth, Everett!" I remind him). He is pulling out all of the stops.
Every time I get up and put him back to bed, he stays for a few minutes, lulling me into thinking he is sleeping, only to get up again for more play time. He kicks his ball around, reads a bunch of books to himself, brings me some books to read (his moose impression is so funny that we do it over, and over, and over again). He doesn't even seem sleepy, or cranky, until after 11. I finally get him to sleep at midnight; it is only when he answers "bett" when I ask if he wants to go to bed now that I know he's ready. I watched only about half of West Wing and got precious little work done. But I am so entertained and in love with this funny little guy that I don't even mind staying up past 2 to finish.
My little precocious night owl, he always seems to know when he's ready to sleep, and no hook or crook will get him to bed any earlier. A few days ago, it was 7:45 p.m. Tonight, midnight. Would a better routine help? I doubt it.
May 13, 2004 — quick mama update -
In the past week two of the products mom has been working on have launched, including an IMAP email service that offer a gigabyte, or more, of email for $12 per month and up and Jyte version 1.0, a free tool that combines search technology with feed reading capability. In other words, you can create searches for news and blogs that are continuously updated. It would be really great if you could check them out.
I have also been blogging on OregonLive about my neighborhood in Portland, Oregon, being a mama, and some politics. It's the only way to keep up with me now!
May 13, 2004 — like daddy, like son -
If Everett's dad could be described with only one concept, it would probably be "gregarious" or "social butterfly" or "life of the party" or "people person". So it should be no surprise that Everett is a kid magnet.
If we come within 100 meters of another child under 10, Everett is likely to run immediately in the kid's direction, with his arms-at-the-side purposeful run (the best comparison I can make: a midget businessman speedwalking). As soon as he reaches the child, he tries to join in their play, whether it is chasing after a ball, asking them about their cool electric car, or simply looking at them with adoring expectation.
My heart wants to break when the child doesn't respond, or runs too fast for Everett to catch, or simply looks back at him with a withering stare. Usually, social butterfly that he is, children delight in his eager imitation, especially the older ones. His instant and reverent copycat routine is at once adorable and a little desperate.
And, like his daddy, Everett can never pass up a good competition. Whether it's running fasss, kicking a ball, picking up a lacrosse stick and ball and amazingly, figuring it out instantly, or a good game of hit-the-tennis-ball-with-the-track-baton, if there is a game, he needs to join in. His facility for all kinds of sports (real and made up on the spur of the moment) is truly admirable. While he hasn't exactly mastered catching, he can throw, kick, or hit any ball out there. He lines up even the most ridiculous implement - a pen, a pair of tongs, a limp twig - with incredible patience, figuring out the best form to hit whatever ball or rock at which he is aiming, and hitting. Seven times out of ten, he moves the ball, quickly, in a straight line.
Our games are starting to be really fun, even though endless hit-the-ball-back-and-forth can be a little tiring. What's really great about the games is his overwhelming enthusiasm and affection, hugging me with all his might, his whole body shaking, when something goes well. Laughing and stomping so hard he almost falls over. Tensing his whole body with some strange o-mouthed expression and clenched fists, squeaking in joy. He's just so loving, and so loved.
May 11, 2004 — what, teething again? -
I had a joke when Everett was a few months old, it was based around the fact that every malady of an infant is instantly blamed on teething. Drooling? must be teething. Crying for no reason? Teething, of course. Putting things into one's mouth? Obviously, teething. Fever? Diarrhea? Ooh, big teething signals. Likes to use a pacifier/bottle/chew toy? Teething, teething, teething.
So Everett, according to the "experts" all around, was teething for 12 months straight, although he didn't cut a single one until just past 9 months old. Now that I've been through this, I'm an experienced mama, I know that teething is directly linked to a fever a couple of days before the tooth starts to show, plus diarrhea, then general fussiness and lack of patience. But today? He's almost 2, isn't he supposed to be mostly done with teething? He was an absolute BEAR.
Here I am today, picking Everett up at 2 p.m., due at the school to ferry the athletes at 2:30. This is my second time bringing him to a meet but I figure, the kids are used to having him around, he usually has a great time playing on the borders, he'll be fine! ummm...I get home with 10 minutes exactly to get ready to go, I need to eat, I'm cranky, Everett's crazy-mean-cranky, and I get a phone call. I'm a little late.
And we get there and Everett is just awful. He starts screaming because I, mean mama that I am, won't let him run on the track. He screams at the top of his lungs, kids are covering their ears, he won't stop, nothing will distract him. I am supposed to be the representative for the coach's meet and I can only imagine how I am encouraging the other coaches to suggest Cleveland should be kicked out of the PIL.
He's got a bit of diarrhea, he didn't sleep well, and I can't figure out why he's so angry. Finally one of my athlete's dads suggests that he's teething. Yes, I think, that's it. Thank God I'm not just going crazy.
I don't even know what teeth are left to come in, but I hope to God one is on its way. Otherwise my sweet funny "munning" boy has been replaced by a little hellion.
But once everyone was almost done our cute mama-baby order was (somewhat) restored. We played on the pole vault pit, lots of "jupping" and mad giggles. We ran and tumbled over the javelin banners. It was really awesome (until, of course, he saw a ball and started screaming after it). He never managed to get in the direct way of a race. And he still, despite the screams, some charmed everyone. What a sweet little teething hellion I have.
May 2, 2004 — sweetness, light, and a terrorist, too-
Everett has officially been diagnosed as a bipolar. Well, according to the definition given on Law & Order tonight. Episodes of joyfulness and social brilliance, mixed with periods of hysteria and depression...yup, that's my almost-two-year-old.
If you could only see his Wiggles dance. He points his fingers and does the twist, saying "wiggey, figah, tist!" and looking so, so pleased and happy. He goes down when I say up and up when I say down. He turns around brilliantly. I've been trying to get him to stand on one foot and shake his hands but his balance isn't the best, so he wobbles for a moment on one foot.
And how cute is it when he plays with an older kid? Yesterday he met a little girl, about 5, while waiting for dinner. She swung around a pole, he swung around the pole. She stood on her hands (with mama's help), he wanted to, as well. She laid on the ground and kicked her legs, he was right there beside her. They played peek-a-boo for about 10 minutes, Everett's giggles so infectious that no one could help but laugh too.
It is also clear that his parents' constant rough-housing is backfiring. That little hard head usually carries a few red bumps and an occasional shiner, usually from head-on hugging collisions with mama or, once in a while, the floor. His kisses sometimes turn into blood blisters as his wide-mouthed laughing expose those dangerous teeth. We've instituted a new saying: "kiss with lips, not with teeth!" and mama's "kiss with lips! kiss with lips!" sessions lead to even more giggles.
Discipline is tough, especially when the source of the problem is more enthusiastic accident than scheming. So we've been telling him to go to his room and letting him go on his own. If he does something knowingly wrong, he'll run to his room, and come back a few minutes later, ready for a hug, and sometimes, a "sowwy...sowwy...sowwwy?"
And sometimes there is no discipline strong enough to deal with the situation. Friday, an evening walk to Trader Joe's turned into a moment of ear-splitting screams. You see, two little boys asked for balloons while we waited in line. By the time the customer service woman finished tying off Everett's balloon, his requests had turned desperate, and he wouldn't let me tie it around his wrist, or otherwise secure the balloon. Moments later the balloon rose to the ceiling above the juice aisle. A few moments more and every customer in the store was begging for a balloon for him. In that situation, how can a parent say no? Let's see, punish the child, punish 50 people trying to get home with a late dinner. He got his balloon, tied to his stroller this time, and we made it home without further screams.
But despite the terrorist attacks of Everett's darker pole, there has never been a little boy who can so utterly charm everyone around him. The girls in the ice cream store were taken with him, and told me he was going to be a heart-breaker when he grew up. The spectators at the Centennial Invitational kept squeaking, "he's SO ADORABLE!" He has the whole track team at his fingertips; he came with me to practice on Friday and spent most of the afternoon playing in the water hose in between hydrating the athletes. (he kept getting his shoes wet, or his hat, and looking up and saying "sooes? hat?" as if it was a total shock to him how they got so wet) But most of all, he charms his parents. One final story:
On Friday, we went downtown to go shopping, and as we headed home, I asked if he would like some ice cream. "Ice ceeam! Ice ceaam!" he said, very excited. "Should we go to Hawthorne?" I asked. "awthon!" he responded. Cute, cute, cute, I thought. We drove down Burnside, talking about the ice cream, me trying to figure out which shop to go to. All of the sudden he started saying, "Donut!" Donut? I thought...how does he even know donut? "Ice ceeam! Donut!" he said. The rest of the drive he kept saying, "Ice ceeam! Donut!" We got ice cream, he loved it ("ummm, ummmm, UMMMMM!" he says, wagging his head back and forth between each "ummm"), and I figured out why he knows donut (we always have donuts at church), but not how it is connected to ice cream. Maybe that will always be a mystery.
April 24, 2004 — 13 hours of sleep? -
Well, someone in heaven has clearly decided that I need a blessing for my many moons of sleep troubles. Starting Friday night, Everett has been sleeping for 13 hours. Sure, he still wakes up asking for his "bottuh" a few times, and I have to change a diaper in the wee hours because of his prodigious water drinking, but he actually asks to go to bed. My son. ASKING FOR BED. Okay, he asks for "butt", the same word for one's belly button and the buttons on my computer. Tonight he went to bed, to SLEEP, at 8:03 p.m. [cue the Hallelujah Chorus]
He's firmly a two-year-old now, with the two-year-old top-of-the-lungs screams when something goes slightly not his way - you know, when someone kisses him unexpectedly, or he can't find his ball, which has rolled under a 3-foot-high table and can only be seen from 60% of the possible viewpoints. Sometimes I think he'll break my eardrums. And he bites now, out of love.
Today I followed the advice of Jonathan's favorite checker at Safeway and bit him back, on his arm. He giggled and asked me to do it again. I did it, harder. The third time, the one where he started to mimic me and have his Teletubbies bite him, I had to break down and explain to him that I was trying to show him that it hurt, that he NEVER should bite a person, EVER, again, only bite his food, his toothbrush and his bottle. He looked at me so thoughtfully and didn't bite me the rest of the night. Does he understand or was I just lucky? Who knows, but that proves that the advice given to me by Safeway checkers should be taken with an economy-sized container of Safeway salt.
Despite his clear transformation from baby to terrible two-year-old, all in all, he is an angel. He wakes up in the morning happy and tells me that he is going to "geh-up" and "see daddy" (who often sleeps on the couch). He goes into the living room and gives his sleeping daddy a hug (saying "HUCK!"). He gets all his toys out and plays, happily, by himself until he decides it is time to wake his mama up, often 45 minutes or an hour after HE wakes up. How cool is that?
He narrates everything he is doing, and everything he is about to do. He asks in the sweetest way for what he wants: "hep" for help and "a-milk" for milk and "pet-sel" for some pretzels (he eats the ends, and puts them back) or "amana" for banana. Anyone who sees him run, with his little fists at his sides for counter-balance, saying "I wunning, FAS!" and looking up at me so proudly, can't help but smile.
He is truly the most precious little boy, smart, strong, fast and just so adorable. I am blessed. And now I am blessed with a smart, strong, adorable, sweet boy who SLEEPS! Does this mean I'm about to get pregnant again and start the whole sleepless cycle over again?
April 18, 2004 — a better weekend -
So today, a week later, the nap was easy, but the lunch was a little hard. We argued for an hour over whether he would eat pasta (he ate one bite of my delicious pasta with cream sauce and spinach, then refused to eat any more), then finally agreed on toast with peanut butter. I just want him to eat some FOOD! Once he ate 1/2 of a slice, I let him have a little milk, which put him promptly to sleep, sweetly cuddling with me. I expect him to sleep for at least two hours, and everything is "kay."
We read a book about "olivia" the police dog and the police officer who cared so much about safety. There are lots of accidents in the book, and Everett loved it. "Oh no!" he said each time we turned the page. "Whassthat?" (I answer, "a thumbtack"). "Oh NO!" he shouts. "OH NO!" There was a page where all kinds of accidents happen at the local school: kids spill banana pudding all over, and slip and fall, the teacher falls off the swivel chair, thumb tacks are everywhere. "OH NO, OH NO, OHHH NOOO!"
Yesterday was a good day for Everett, we had a great time going on errands and then we drove to see Grandma and Grandpa and Emma (their dog). We bought a bunch of books for him, cheap, at a used book sale; we went to a toy store (the fabulous and well-recommended Kids At Heart on 35th and Hawthorne) where he charmed all the parents with little, wittle babies (who obviously are the only ones who have the guts to bring their kids in to a toy store on a busy Saturday...we had a screaming fit when we left toyless, and all the baby-mamas and dadas looked at us with bemused, distant sympathy - like, 'I suppose WE will have to be careful to raise our little angels better than THAT, what a poor white-trash mama!'); then we went across the street to a store with lots of breakables.
I was on pins and needles while I picked out a gift for my brother's birthday, worrying about the inevitable gravitation toward the most delicate little things. But, I was saved by the hats...Everett loves hats and there was a big display of lovely big colorful floppy hats. While I paid for the pretty marble mortar and pestle, Everett conned a random woman into playing his hat game. This is the game where each player is ordered to put on a hat of Everett's choosing (usually with a few trades), then everyone is positioned in the PERFECT spot, and ball throwing ensues. It worked, Everett was adorable in his red hat and his apopleptic dictatorship, nothing was broken, everyone parted happy.
The trip went amazingly well for such a long drive with little napping. On the way home Everett became excited about every car we passed, for a while saying "hi car" and "bye bye car!" to each one. It was really frickin adorable.
April 11, 2004 — nap battles -
Today was Easter Sunday. On Sundays, we bring Everett to church, after which he spends all his energy running around the church, eating sweets and drinking juice and the occasional gulp of coffee (yeah, Everett loves coffee...black is fine...he'll chug an ounce or so if I let him. Must have been all those coffee milkshakes during month 9 of my pregnancy). His favorite place to run is down the handicapped ramp next to the sanctuary, one end of which exits in the fellowship hall, the other exiting in the entry to the church - if you don't keep an eye on him, he could run just about anywhere from outside to the choristry. By the end I am usually exhausted, Everett is wired on sugar and I can't wait to get him down for his nap so I can rest and get some work done.
Today being a beautiful sunny Easter, the church was packed with cute kids in sweet clothes and the little kids got to fill their baskets with plastic eggs full of melted chocolate. The sugar-and-adrenaline rush was even greater than usual, and mom was shot. So the nap battle promised to be one of the most epic yet.
My mama friends come out on all sides of this issue, but for me, naptime is both blessed and dreaded. Everett goes down on Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays at almost exactly the same time each day, without a fuss, for his nanny. Wednesdays are usually o.k. because we pick Everett up at noon and go on errands - by the time we get home he is snoozing in his car seat and doesn't complain about being carried to bed.
Saturdays are usually all right, too, because we're relaxed, and don't care so much what time he goes down. Often he goes to sleep watching cartoons. But Sundays, well, that's another story. Everett is wired, mom is tired, the battlefield is set.
It starts something like this: Everett, acting sleepy and fussy, is given a bottle and undressed. He willingly lies down in the bed by himself and acts like he's about to go to sleep. Mom busies herself with clearing up in preparation for all the work she's about to get done. Everett's so quiet and peaceful, so she decides to check on him. Instead of being fast asleep, he's done with his bottle and playing quietly.
'This will be easy,' mom thinks. She sits down next to him and gets ready to settle him down, maybe asks if he wants a bottle. No, Everett doesn't want a bottle. He wants to "geh-up". It's now about 1 p.m. No problem, mom will just bring him to the living room - to the upstairs bedroom - back to bed - with one more bottle and a story, he'll be snoozing like crazy.
Today it was the upstairs bedroom. Up we trotted, with our bottle and our settle-down book. The book went great, lots of "whasthat?" and giggling over "siwwy" puppy and "woof-woof"-ing. Then things got crazy. Mama, being exhausted, tried to just lay down next to him and close her eyes, asking him to lie down and rest every once in a while. Everett was quiet for a little bit with the book and then decided to start moving it around, and moving himself around, kicking mom, shoving the book into her ribs, occasionally banging his head against the wall good, wanting to know what everything was.
Then Everett swung the book in an amazingly fast, sharp motion in which the corner (of a hard-covered book, mind you) got jammed right into mom's eye. Mom started screaming in pain, and fell on the floor, crying. Everett was now concerned, but also slightly amused. "kay?" he asked, sheepishly. "kay?"
"No, mama's not ok!" she cries. "No, I'm not ok! You hurt mama! You have to be more careful!"
"Kay? Kay?" he asks, certain that it's all over. Mom gives up and leaves the room to see if her eye looks as bad as it feels (it doesn't, just a little red).
Several minutes later, mama returns to the battlefield, where Everett is once again semi-quietly playing. But all is not quiet for long. She lays down next to him, and he starts standing up and jumping down next to her, for reassuring cuddles, banging in with his head. This is still not "kay." It hurts, less than the book to the eye, but painful nonetheless. Several jumps and mama knows that it has to end, here, now.
After a couple of warnings she grabs Everett around the hips (face down, lying next to him, a firm but not totally restrictive grip, so he can move around a little bit, but can't push or kick mom in the face). Everett starts to scream at the top of his lungs and struggle like he's drowning. Three minutes of this (saying, "stop crying Everett, and I'll let you go!" the whole time) and mom is spent, lets him go, and he quietly goes to the end of the bed, lies down, and is asleep in five minutes.
It has taken over an hour, mom has a splitting headache, Everett is hoarse, and the eye will burn for the rest of the day. By the time Everett has woken up, mom will have completed exactly 5% of the work she had planned. And somehow we will live to repeat this again next Sunday.
Check back for new photos, which should be published sometime this week.
April 8, 2004—
I'm keeping a list of Everett's words, and pronunciation, with some repetition from the news & updates here. Check out and you'll learn what "dosh be-buttah" is.
April 7, 2004—
We're going to have to start just submitting lists of all the new words Everett is learning, and the development of his pronunciation. It's so adorable! He is copying everything mama says and a lot of what daddy and uncle michael say, too. One of the cutest was when he learned (just a few days ago) how to say uncle michael: he started out with "mucka mucka mucka muckel!" and now says something like "unka mikie!" but the "mucka mucka" was so cute I almost wish he wasn't learning it right.
Today alone he learned how to say "flamingo" and "owl" and "racket" and maybe "blue" and probably a bunch of other words I missed out on (or have now forgotten). His "whasshat?" routine runs about every 10 minutes for 3 minutes or so. It can be a little exhausting to repeat "an owl. it says 'hoo, hooo!'" every 5 seconds. I try to mix things up, like "that's Dorothy. Dorothy the dinosaur. She has a garden. She grows roses. That's Dorothy the Dinosaur. She's green. That's Dorothy the Dinosaur. She's friends with the Wiggles." You see how it goes.
Everett is really thriving with our current schedule, which gives him lots of daddy time. Since mama is coaching track after work, I usually pick him up, bring him home and play for a few minutes, run to track, and daddy gets a couple of hours of all Everett, all the time. They go on errands and hikes and to the park and have a great time. Daddy makes Everett RUN! and Everett is getting so fast and has quite the advanced stamina. We're no longer worried about twisting his arm to get him to run track - quite the opposite, we can't bring him to the track very much, especially at meets, because he insists on getting out on the track and running with the athletes. It's just luck and daddy's vigilance that he hasn't yet gotten run over by mama's amazing 300 meter hurdlers.
Mama is having a great time in track and has found her jump again - she's been demonstrating the events for the kids, especially high jump and triple jump and a little hurdles, and today for the first time had a fantastic, soaring over the bar, like she used to, high jump. It was wonderful. Also wonderful has been working out regularly - daddy let her go to yoga yesterday (the assistant cross country coach is a yoga instructor) and she is planning to work on yoga through her next pregnancy.
Speaking of Everett's future brothers and sisters, mama and daddy are working on it! We're "taking charge" of our "fertility" thanks to the eponymous book. According to the chart in mama's notebook we are either pregnant now or sadly off mama's cycle. We'll report more as soon as we know. A Christmas baby? Not exactly the perfect timeline. Sorry, junior the second.
April 11, 2004 — nap battles -
Today was Easter Sunday. On Sundays, we bring Everett to church, after which he spends all his energy running around the church, eating sweets and drinking juice and the occasional gulp of coffee (yeah, Everett loves coffee...black is fine...he'll chug an ounce or so if I let him. Must have been all those coffee milkshakes during month 9 of my pregnancy). His favorite place to run is down the handicapped ramp next to the sanctuary, one end of which exits in the fellowship hall, the other exiting in the entry to the church - if you don't keep an eye on him, he could run just about anywhere from outside to the choristry. By the end I am usually exhausted, Everett is wired on sugar and I can't wait to get him down for his nap so I can rest and get some work done.
Today being a beautiful sunny Easter, the church was packed with cute kids in sweet clothes and the little kids got to fill their baskets with plastic eggs full of melted chocolate. The sugar-and-adrenaline rush was even greater than usual, and mom was shot. So the nap battle promised to be one of the most epic yet.
My mama friends come out on all sides of this issue, but for me, naptime is both blessed and dreaded. Everett goes down on Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays at almost exactly the same time each day, without a fuss, for his nanny. Wednesdays are usually o.k. because we pick Everett up at noon and go on errands - by the time we get home he is snoozing in his car seat and doesn't complain about being carried to bed.
Saturdays are usually all right, too, because we're relaxed, and don't care so much what time he goes down. Often he goes to sleep watching cartoons. But Sundays, well, that's another story. Everett is wired, mom is tired, the battlefield is set.
It starts something like this: Everett, acting sleepy and fussy, is given a bottle and undressed. He willingly lies down in the bed by himself and acts like he's about to go to sleep. Mom busies herself with clearing up in preparation for all the work she's about to get done. Everett's so quiet and peaceful, so she decides to check on him. Instead of being fast asleep, he's done with his bottle and playing quietly.
'This will be easy,' mom thinks. She sits down next to him and gets ready to settle him down, maybe asks if he wants a bottle. No, Everett doesn't want a bottle. He wants to "geh-up". It's now about 1 p.m. No problem, mom will just bring him to the living room - to the upstairs bedroom - back to bed - with one more bottle and a story, he'll be snoozing like crazy.
Today it was the upstairs bedroom. Up we trotted, with our bottle and our settle-down book. The book went great, lots of "whasthat?" and giggling over "siwwy" puppy and "woof-woof"-ing. Then things got crazy. Mama, being exhausted, tried to just lay down next to him and close her eyes, asking him to lie down and rest every once in a while. Everett was quiet for a little bit with the book and then decided to start moving it around, and moving himself around, kicking mom, shoving the book into her ribs, occasionally banging his head against the wall good, wanting to know what everything was.
Then Everett swung the book in an amazingly fast, sharp motion in which the corner (of a hard-covered book, mind you) got jammed right into mom's eye. Mom started screaming in pain, and fell on the floor, crying. Everett was now concerned, but also slightly amused. "kay?" he asked, sheepishly. "kay?"
"No, mama's not ok!" she cries. "No, I'm not ok! You hurt mama! You have to be more careful!"
"Kay? Kay?" he asks, certain that it's all over. Mom gives up and leaves the room to see if her eye looks as bad as it feels (it doesn't, just a little red).
Several minutes later, mama returns to the battlefield, where Everett is once again semi-quietly playing. But all is not quiet for long. She lays down next to him, and he starts standing up and jumping down next to her, for reassuring cuddles, banging in with his head. This is still not "kay." It hurts, less than the book to the eye, but painful nonetheless. Several jumps and mama knows that it has to end, here, now.
After a couple of warnings she grabs Everett around the hips (face down, lying next to him, a firm but not totally restrictive grip, so he can move around a little bit, but can't push or kick mom in the face). Everett starts to scream at the top of his lungs and struggle like he's drowning. Three minutes of this (saying, "stop crying Everett, and I'll let you go!" the whole time) and mom is spent, lets him go, and he quietly goes to the end of the bed, lies down, and is asleep in five minutes.
It has taken over an hour, mom has a splitting headache, Everett is hoarse, and the eye will burn for the rest of the day. By the time Everett has woken up, mom will have completed exactly 5% of the work she had planned. And somehow we will live to repeat this again next Sunday.
Check back for new photos, which should be published sometime this week.
April 8, 2004—
I'm keeping a list of Everett's words, and pronunciation, with some repetition from the news & updates here. Check out and you'll learn what "dosh be-buttah" is.
April 7, 2004—
We're going to have to start just submitting lists of all the new words Everett is learning, and the development of his pronunciation. It's so adorable! He is copying everything mama says and a lot of what daddy and uncle michael say, too. One of the cutest was when he learned (just a few days ago) how to say uncle michael: he started out with "mucka mucka mucka muckel!" and now says something like "unka mikie!" but the "mucka mucka" was so cute I almost wish he wasn't learning it right.
Today alone he learned how to say "flamingo" and "owl" and "racket" and maybe "blue" and probably a bunch of other words I missed out on (or have now forgotten). His "whasshat?" routine runs about every 10 minutes for 3 minutes or so. It can be a little exhausting to repeat "an owl. it says 'hoo, hooo!'" every 5 seconds. I try to mix things up, like "that's Dorothy. Dorothy the dinosaur. She has a garden. She grows roses. That's Dorothy the Dinosaur. She's green. That's Dorothy the Dinosaur. She's friends with the Wiggles." You see how it goes.
Everett is really thriving with our current schedule, which gives him lots of daddy time. Since mama is coaching track after work, I usually pick him up, bring him home and play for a few minutes, run to track, and daddy gets a couple of hours of all Everett, all the time. They go on errands and hikes and to the park and have a great time. Daddy makes Everett RUN! and Everett is getting so fast and has quite the advanced stamina. We're no longer worried about twisting his arm to get him to run track - quite the opposite, we can't bring him to the track very much, especially at meets, because he insists on getting out on the track and running with the athletes. It's just luck and daddy's vigilance that he hasn't yet gotten run over by mama's amazing 300 meter hurdlers.
Mama is having a great time in track and has found her jump again - she's been demonstrating the events for the kids, especially high jump and triple jump and a little hurdles, and today for the first time had a fantastic, soaring over the bar, like she used to, high jump. It was wonderful. Also wonderful has been working out regularly - daddy let her go to yoga yesterday (the assistant cross country coach is a yoga instructor) and she is planning to work on yoga through her next pregnancy.
Speaking of Everett's future brothers and sisters, mama and daddy are working on it! We're "taking charge" of our "fertility" thanks to the eponymous book. According to the chart in mama's notebook we are either pregnant now or sadly off mama's cycle. We'll report more as soon as we know. A Christmas baby? Not exactly the perfect timeline. Sorry, junior the second.
March 23, 2004—
I'm adding an RSS feed to Everett's site. Those who have Jyte downloaded: you can just type in "http://www.everetthanson.com/feed.xml" in the Jyte "add feed" menu. Those that don't, need to download it! and add Everett's feed, plus the cafemama feed. That's mama's blog; lots of info about what I'm doing at work and some of my parenting and marketing musings.
March 23, 2004—
Developmental milestones are such a terrible, terrible issues with parents. We spend so much time worrying about the number and quality of words, the motor skills, the color identification, the endless animal sounds. Don't get me wrong, Everett is doing great...but sometimes I wonder, do we worry about this too much as parents today? We're always comparing, even though we know we shouldn't, even though we're not making judgments (everett's better than x at motor skills but behind y in language, etc.). Even the little things...
Everett, for instance, can say just about any animal sound you can cook up. His favorites right now are meow, caw, woof, and a cute elephant roar. He has been saying "eyes" for months now and "no" for as long as I can remember. He just can't figure out "nose" though. What's that all about? He's singing the alphabet amazingly well for his age...it usually ends about "e" and then takes off into a colorful assortment of o's, t's, b's, twos and sixes. He struggles so, so much to say "bottle" and "wiggles" - his mouth just gets all tangled up combining those hard consonants with the "le" on the end. He tries and tries, looking at me so earnestly, begging for my understanding. I repeat the word once I figure it out, slowly, "BOT-LL". He trips over it again, this time with his eager half-sighing giggle of affirmation (no "yes", just an "uh-hee-haw!").
Looking at him trying so hard to accomplish these simple tasks, doing the "eye" and "teeth" and "hair" over and over again, always having to stop on the nose and mouth and ask, "whassat?", tears me up inside. What makes him work so hard? What makes him try to figure out, over and over again, who he is? He still hasn't been able to say "everett" or anything close to it. He points at me, saying "mama" so proudly, and "daddy daddy daddy daddy daddy!" every time we see, talk or think about Jonathan. He carries around photos of the three of us, identifying his "mama" and "daddy" for everyone to see. He knows "Abby" so well. But still, he points to his picture, he points to himself, "whassat?" It breaks your heart.
Someone sent me a great article by Anna Quindlen today where she talked about worrying about her son talking and walking at 18 months. She wrote "Last year he went to China. Next year he goes to college. He can talk just fine. He can walk, too." Of course they will all be walking and talking eventually! Then they will grow up and we will be on to comparing grades and sports and girlfriends and college admissions.
March 8, 2004—
Everett has discovered language in a big way. Sure, he's been slowly building on his vocabulary of animal sounds, facial features (ok, just eyes and hair) and clothing items for a long while now. But we had a breakthrough in the last week or two. This weekend he had his first sentence: "whesshe?" (aka "where is he?"). Of course the Everett we know and love doesn't just have a word for everything, but a unique and adorable sign. "whesshe?" is accompanied by a cute smile and a dramatic shrug. Sometimes we even have "wheddgo?" (where did it go). Every time we talk about someone who isn't around, you can count on "whesshe?"
We also learned "sowwee" yesterday. I guess I say "sorry" a lot. ("Everett, I'm sorry you knocked your block tower over. If you would let me build this stableizer on the bottom, that wouldn't happen so much." and "Everett, I'm sorry Wiggles aren't on right now. We'll watch them tomorrow morning.") Everything is so much more adorable when Everett says it.
Speaking of the Wiggles, oh, how cute is he watching the Wiggles? I can't even begin to say. Last week he started doing this really cute thing that I couldn't figure out at first. When we would start one of our clapping dances (oh yeah, we dance and jump a lot) he would take a break and put his finger over his lips and say "sss sss sssssss" (lots of spit). I was wondering if this was a song Karyn (his nanny) sings with him. It wasn't until I started humming the "rockabye your bear" song - oh, parents-to-be, you can't imagine how many silly songs will be stuck in your head - and he immediately started his "sss sss sssss"-ing. OH. It's a Wiggles song! They "shh shh shh" once you get the bear to sleep (after you turn around, I think). Now he associates TV with "weggie" and begs me night and day to watch "weggie." Oh, if only I had a Wiggles DVD. If only Comcast had a 24-hour Wiggles channel. Can someone get on that?
And if you haven't tried Jyte yet, and you love me, PLEASE do! I'm trying to get 100,000 users by this time in June! Check out my blog for more info.
February 25, 2004—
so mom has once again buried herself in far too many obligations and events, giving Everett a happy, happy mama! Is the biggest news the launch of her long-awaited news software or her position as assistant track coach at alma mater Cleveland High School? Both are wonderful. So download JYTE, come to a track meet, tell us what you think.
But enough about mama. Let's hear about the reason for our existence, Everett! Our "baby" (what he calls himself and all his stuffed animals and friends now) is growing up. He is absolutely gigantic - already tipping the scales at over 30 pounds. He is happy, curly and oh-so-always-adorable. He has fully developed his jumping technique and likes to practice at EVERY occasion. He charms all my friends' daughters - his girlfriends stare at him with this moony puppy look on their faces, it's cute and frightening at once. He is very excited right now about cars and trucks and tools and pots and pans. He loves everything "mama", "da", "abby", "gramma" and "grampa" are doing, and wants to help.
Everett is becoming such an individual. He is fastidious and hates to get dirt on his hands; when he falls in the park while running he lands on his belly, holding his hands up with a look of disgust at the mess. Mom has taught him how to wipe his hands on his pants - otherwise, we'd be wiping hands 30 times per day. He loves music of all kinds and will start dancing for tv commercials or terrible American Idol performances. He loves cars and birds ("caw! caw!") and dogs and cats, enthusiastically saying their names or sounds when he sees them. He picks up a new word and uses it ALL the time for the entire next week. "Abby" was his favorite two weeks ago, he would say it all day long with a very pronounced "b", it was so cute! Right now "cookie" is vying with Abby and means just about anything edible or potentially edible (the nadir was when he looked in the bathroom garbage and asked me, "cookie?").
You may have noticed that the site is redesigned! I'm learning CSS and applying by hand-coding the entire site...impressive, no? While I'm fixing it up, many of the links won't work...you can find the old site, in its clunky MS Publisher-fueled style, here until I finish redesigning.
January 9, 2004—
Yep, the city of Portland was snowed in for almost an entire week. We were fine, the car worked beautifully, never got stuck for more than the blink of an eye, carted our family and friends around town while everyone else was holed up inside. We didn’t take a lot of photos, probably because Mom & Dad weren’t feeling super well (bad hot dogs at Costco we think) and plus it was TOO COLD! 20 degrees? What is this, Moscow?
Want news of Christmas? Everett may not understand the “Jesus’ birthday” stuff but he definitely understands how to unwrap presents now. He especially loved his gifts from Aunt Betsy (the dumptruck & hard hat seen here) and Uncle Michael (a full set of tools & another hard hat). He’s a regular little construction worker, that boy. Loves to pound & dig & move heavy equipment. He also was a huge fan of some books with animals in them, especially the kitten book (Aunt Abby reads it the best). He has been making great strides in animals sounds: his daily quiz goes something like this.
monkey
says: ahhh ahh ahhh oohh
cow says: bb-bb-bb-bbooo
cat says: mooaaaa
dog says: oouufff, oooufff, oouufff
duck says: kack! kack! kack!
bird says: kawk! kawk! kawk! Or “tee-tee-tee”
owl says: hhhooooo, hhhoooo
frog says: up, up, up (where did he get this?)
once in a while he’ll throw us all for a loop and make up a sound, or copy
a real-life sound with eery exactitude (mom’s attempt at an elephant’s
trumpet was done to perfection). Is he the cutest ever? Oooufff.
December 23, 2003—
Ooh, we’re so excited for Christmas! Everett has just an inkling of what it means this year, at least, he likes playing with wrapping paper and love, love, loves the tree. He’s being very good, talking to it, looking at it, only taking down one or two ornaments, not even daily (we carefully placed all breakable ornaments on the top half of the tree). Are you here because you received a Christmas card with the website link? Cool man. Want to know how to set up your own website? It’s easy and way cheaper than you would think. Go to our new resale site (for mom’s work), Stumptown Domains. Buy your domain and a “junior web hosting” package. Mom will help you, just email her!
December 9, 2003—
It’s winter! It’s almost Christmas time! Big fun at the Sarah Martha-Stewart-Gilbert-Hanson residence. We’re baking and sewing and beading and cutting and gluing and making things out of random flora and fauna. Last night mom accidentally made FOUR batches of her favorite chocolate chip cookies (we meant to make two, and accidentally quadrupled the sugar). Yep, things are in high gear. Christmas card production has begun, so if you’re lucky, you’ll get one before the new year.
Buying something for Everett for Christmas? Even better, making it (we love handmade gifts!)? You’ll want to check out some stats on what he likes, updated today.
Everett is just the funniest little kid ever built. He comes up with something new everyday. He’s learning a lot now: how to talk (you should hear him say the sound of a bird, it’s “tee tee tee” instead of “tweet tweet tweet”), how to imitate (he did a particularly good goose sound during our Christmas tree hunt), how to climb on things and climb off them (here he is, standing on a tree trunk), how the world works. Oh yes, and did I mention he already has that cookie dough part figured out? He even knows how to take off his shirt (the sweater in the photo came off later that night) and to put his own hat on.
November 21, 2003—
Boy has mom missed a lot of time! We know you really want to see the Halloween photos, so here they are. Everett sure did make a great cowboy. I promised pictures of our awesome pumpkins, too, they’re online here.
Everett experienced his first snowstorm EVER this week; on Wednesday it snowed all over Everett’s house, and yard, for about 3 hours. It was beautiful. Unfortunately, he fell asleep on our way to teach him how to play in the snow. I guess we’ll have to hope for a couple of repeats before the winter is out.
Everett and his family got some great news this month: his Aunt Destiny (mom’s brother’s wife) is pregnant with his first (blood-related) cousin! They are due in June. We are so excited, and really happy for Daniel and Destiny. Good luck, guys. We’re also trying to cook up a little brother or sister for Everett, so the family could be welcoming bunches of babies come next summer. Who’s next you ask? Betsy & Steve (dad’s sister), or John & Hannah (mom’s sister, the next-oldest sibling after Daniel). Come on people, we’re trying to build a dynasty here!
Mom’s book group, affectionately known as something unprintable on a one-year-old’s web site, decided after reading this book that they could do better. We’re working on a collection of essays about being moms & women. Let us know if you want to read some early drafts.
October 20, 2003—
Everett and his whole family are feeling rotten! OK, no SARS here, but we all have colds that are high on the yuck-factor. Mom just beat the worst of it but Everett needed a whole lot of hugs to hang out with Henry & Peter today, poor little guy has a fever. (this from the little one who usually runs off to play before Mom has a chance to give him a kiss goodbye) Despite our collective grumpiness, we managed to visit the pumpkin patch a couple of times this month, once with friends; check out the photos.
ALERT! We have a talking update—Everett figured out how to say “touchdown”! In true Everett form, though, it’s “gunk-gown” - but you know he knows what he’s saying because he raises his arms above his head. We also thought we heard “Abby” for his aunt, and “go-out” when he wants to head for the great outdoors. He’s learning a couple of signs, too; he tells us he wants to get down from his highchair by wiping his hands together in an “all done” signal.
We all worked on carving pumpkins this weekend; Aunt Abby made a little white cat from Martha Stewart that wowed Everett like nothing else (he loves to pet its mini pumpkin nose), and Aunt Hannah and Mom made some pretty cool pumpkins too. We’ll post pics later this week, or you can see them for yourself at our upcoming event...
Upcoming events— Halloween party Oct 31.
October 10, 2003—
Everett is fast adjusting to life as a toddler, learning a new word every day and discovering jumping, running, climbing and drawing. Any given day you can bet he will show up with a bump on his head, a couple of pen marks around the mouth area, and a nice loud scream of joy for good measure.
His words? Well, for some reason, they all start with “g”. “Gock” is his favorite word (sock), probably because you have to put “gocks” on to “go-up” (go outside, or go upstairs, or be picked up). His great-grandma Pat gave him the coolest dinosaur boots, which he loves, also calls “gock” and likes to clomp around in, even though they are at least a size too big (had to be done, it was the smallest size available). He also says “gog” (frog), “gook” (book) and “kak”, “duck”, “gog” (dog), and “bi-bi-bi-bi-bi” (mooo). Mom is “mum-mum” or just “mum-ma” or, if he’s really upset, “mum-mum-mum-mum-MUMM!” Once in a while, he just out and says “daddy” in the cutest way you can imagine.
Our little guy is quite the dancer. He has been enchanting grandmas, uncles, aunts and parents with his moves, which typically involve complicated, rapid, deep squats not seen on a dance floor since “flashdance.”
Upcoming events—pumpkin decorating & costume workshop Oct 18
September 22, 2003—
Everett’s mom and aunt had big birthdays this month, mom’s 30th birthday and Aunt Abby’s 21st birthday. For Aunt Abby’s birthday, Everett stayed up far past his bedtime playing the entertainer: running around, squeaking, and saying “Goooaalll!” his new favorite word, which is basically a synonym for “ball.” (I threw the ball, I dropped the ball, you picked up the ball, the ball landed near me, I see a ball, etc.) The little mister is eating like crazy now, and especially loves sushi (don’t worry, we keep him away from the raw fish), shrimp tempura, and mom’s new secret recipe, Coney Island chili. Of course, he would rather feed you his food than eat it himself, any day: especially if he gets to push it into your mouth with his little fingers and giggle in glee.
Everett’s adjusting well to his new nanny, Karyn, and his friends Peter and Henry, who say “Everett’s here!” when he gets dropped off and who are really good with colors. His shoes are adjusting too: he just grew out of 5 and into 6 (a very cute pair of Chuck Taylor All-stars were just purchased to replace Uncle Steve’s favorite, Vans, shown above).
September 3, 2003—
Everett and his mom & dad just returned from an event-filled weekend in Sacramento with his Aunt Betsy, Uncle Steve and Aunt Erin. He played in the ocean (at Drake’s Beach in Point Reyes, California), got knocked over by a wave, chased a volleyball around and was cooed over by all his relatives. He especially loved Aunt Betsy’s fish tank (to which he points and says, “gup, gup!”)
August 19, 2003—
Mom added some of her “real reviews”, check them out, let me know what you think.
What’s new in Everett’s life? He’s about to start a new day care arrangement, sharing a nanny with two other little boys, and is starting to eat more adult food, like hot dogs and watermelon and bacon and French fries.
Upcoming events: FAMILY DINNER AUG 22, 7 p.m.; MOM’S GROUP AUG 25, 6:30 p.m.
August 6, 2003—
Mom just updated the web site with some new pages and lots of pictures.
What's new in Everett’s life? He just learned how to TWIRL around and went swimming for the first time last night in a big person pool.
His latest funny move—running around the house, shaking his head like mad and laughing. He also just learned to water the plants. It’s the cutest thing ever.
Upcoming events: PLAY GROUP AUG 14, 4 PM
