A Boy and a Button

This is my son.

We named him Gerret.  That's a story for another day.

We call him Pooka.  That's also an entirely separate story.

Today's story is not of names, but of objects.

This is a button.  It is a representation of the one Gerret found in the depths of our red armchair yesterday.  The actual button was blue, with four holes, the approximate size of a penny.

On Saturday PTB was in Ithaca at work, I was moving furniture (including the armchair), and Nolan was on my bed imagining it was a fire station --intermittently setting off to fight fires in various locations throughout our apartment. Gerret was wandering.  He wanders a lot.

As he explored Saturday, The Pook stuck his hand underneath the cushion of said armchair and came out with a handful of buttons.  He claimed one smallish blue one as his own and allowed it to accompany him on his wanderings.  I noticed, but wasn't too concerned, as he was just carrying it around in the palm of his hand.  He does still use his mouth as a mode of exploration, but is good about aborting when asked.  So, I let him keep the button and went on doing my thing.

A while later, I took a break from moving furniture and joined Nolan at the fire station.  When Pooka also retired to my bed, I noticed him juggling the blue button with his tongue.

"Spit it out".

He looked at me, smirked at me, then buried his face in a pillow.  "No. Spit it out," I ordered as I pried him from the pillow and placed my open hand beside his chin. To my dismay, the button was no longer in his mouth.  I looked under the pillow.  I looked under some blankets.  Then I tore the bed apart looking for that blue button.  It was nowhere to be found.  "Where is it?" I asked.  He pointed to his mouth.

When PTB arrived home later that afternoon, I told him that his son had swallowed a button.  PTB's immediate response was, "Did you send him to his room?"  You see, in our house our boys take a time out on their beds when they are disobedient, however in this case of disobedience, I determined that the natural consequence for swallowing a button was punishment enough.  My punishment for being an unconcerned mother: a treasure hunt for the next few days.

The Potty

This morning, Gerret made his typical "poo poo" announcement before doing the job, but instead of staying where he was, which would also be typical, he made a bee-line for this:

And surprised me by actually sitting down on it. Then he did the job and stood, repeating his "poo poo" announcement as he breezed on by me. Just in case I didn't get it.

Going in the diaper while on the potty is the step before going in the potty without the diaper. Isn't it? Should I be excited that he's beginning to express more interest in the potty than his older brother? Or nervous? I think training one kid at a time is more than I can handle.

Makes My Day

Maybe he can make yours too.

Gerret Turned One

Somehow a year has already passed since the arrival of the Pook.  He sure has taken our family for a ride.  We feel blessed each day to have this smiley, bouncy, wild little thing in our lives.  He is the cause of so much laughter and unbelievable moments in our home.  Here's to a year of Gerret!  In my journal on his birthday, I wrote a list of things I love about Gerret and I thought I would include some of it here:

Things I Love about Gerret

The way he watches and copies everyone -- especially Nolan.  

How he holds on and bounces up and down and yells "dja, dja" (for jump, jump).  

He looks like a little bird when he drinks from a sippy cup.  

He bobs his head & shakes his body to any kind of music.  

How he always seems to be looking for adventure.  

He likes to play peek-a-boo and laughs like crazy when someone will take a moment to participate.  

How he is cutely chubby but not so fat I have to clean between any rolls.  

When he falls asleep on car rides.  

He can climb onto the couch, up the stairs, on Nolan's bed, and would probably climb on everything else in the house too if I allowed it.  

He responds to "Pooka" over any other name we call him.  

He smiles big and often and goofy.  

How he yells "Ah! Ah! Ah!" and screams if you don't shovel food into his mouth fast enough. 

 Those dimples make his smile pretty killer.  

He likes toys better when someone else is playing with them (his imagination hasn't quite kicked in).  

He tends to be fairly high strung.  

He rubs food in his hair at every meal.  

How he sleeps 12 hours every night and is mostly good at taking 2 naps every day.  

How his hair gets really curly after a bath.  

He is intent on standing in the tub.  

Those big dark brown eyes.  

How absolutely disgusting his high chair gets (if I don't take it apart frequently to clean it, it starts to grow mold).  

How he sleeps through inordinate amounts of noise at 6:00 each morning when the rest of the house gets going (This includes hair dryers, squeaky faucets, microwaves, doors slamming, and often, yelling right outside his door).  

He is so cute as he inches his way (quickly) around a room from one piece of furniture to the next.  

The way he loves his grandma above almost everyone else.  

How patient and forgiving he is with Nolan.  

How resilient his little body is.  

How he could, in all honesty, use 4 baths a day.  

The way he cuddles and makes kisses.

"Oh Man, You Caught Me!"

That look says it all.

Ring Out Wild Bells

Nine Months Fly By

when you're not pregnant.  

I can't believe that Gerret was born nine months ago.  If it's possible, I think he is the cutest he's ever been.  Especially because he has outgrown the high pitched screaming.   He is, for the most part, down to two naps a day, so he is now a pretty constant part of my days.  I don't mind that so much.  Neither does Nolan.  We all really love Gerret and feel blessed to have him in our family.  He's a fun-loving little kid and he knows how to get what he wants.  He is very eager to learn and is always surprising me with the new things he picks up on.  

He recently caught on to how Nolan plays with matchbox cars.  I heard a little "vvvvv-vvvvv-vvvvv" behind me, similar to the sounds Nolan makes for the cars and turned around to find Gerret sitting there, pushing a car back and forth on the floor, making perfectly adorable car noises.    

Last week we went shopping at Lowes where they help every little boy's dream come true by providing car carts. (By the way, if

 you are interested in trying to maneuver a bus through Lowes, this could also be every parent's dream.)  They were two seaters, complete with two steering wheels, and seat belts.  At first, we just put Nolan in, thinking Gerret was too small, but Gerret kept watching Nolan intently, so I finally gave in and strapped him in.  He knew exactly what to do.  I wish I had had my camera.  He had a big goofy grin on his face as he "steered" his way through Lowes.  When we were done, Patrick and Nolan unloaded while Gerret stayed in so we could go park the cart.  As we drove away, he turned his head to follow Patrick as I pushed him in the opposite direction and when Patrick made eye contact, Gerret got that goofy grin on his face, stretched his hand up above the top of the car, and waved.  I started laughing and clapping and Patrick waved back.  That excited him so much that he waved again and again.   What a smarty pants.

He can crawl, walk along furniture, speak his own special language, do crazy tricks with his tongue, sleep 12 hours at night, drool incredible amounts, elicit a wide variety of responses from his brother, climb, and snuggle.  He currently has four teeth, asymmetrically placed in his mouth.  What a goober.  I just love being his mom (most of the time).  Here's to nine months of the Pook!

Gerret

Here we see that Gerret still continues to grow (it would be distressing if he stopped). He's still so cute. He's so close to crawling that I'm sure he'll be successful any minute. He would prefer to just stand and walk though. He refused to sit for his last bath. He kept using my arm or Nolan's shoulder to stand up and when I would try to get him to sit back down, he would stiffen up and not bend at the waist. The struggle ended with him laying down with his head on Nolan's tummy so I could rinse his hair. Nolan thought it was so funny. I thought it was kind of frustrating (but I was smiling behind the mask). He has this really innocent look and I think it fools most people. He is by no means innocent. I'm sure behind those endearing eyes, his wheels are always spinning, thinking, "what will I get into next?"