Hi Matthew, I've been meaning to write you about your 15 mo. appointment for a long time, but just haven't gotten around to it until now. So here it is. And here you are almost 16 months. Anyway, you didn't really like the appointment, even before the shots. Typical of previous appointments, you cried as soon as the nurse came in and told me to strip you down to your diaper. Getting weighed was a tragedy as was getting measured on the exam table. Being examined by the doctor was pretty bad too, although you sat on my lap the whole time which reduced your crying significantly. Then came the shots. Not pleasant. I guess you have a good excuse given your last ER visit which was very unpleasant to watch, so I'm sure it was very unpleasant to experience.
Here are your 15 mo. stats and how they compare to Sam's.
Height: 33.25 in, 95th percentile (Sam, 33 in, 93rd percentile)
Weight: 26.25 lbs 75th percentile (Sam, 21.25lbs, 10th percentile)
As you can see, you are healthy and strong and growing very well! While you certainly are a lot bigger than Sam was at that age, you're by no means huge looking. In fact, I'm often surprised at how you look rather lean compared to some other big little kids. I guess Sam was on the small side of "normal" and you're on the bigger side of "normal."
As far as other development, apparently you're supposed to say 3-6 words correctly at this age. You certainly have that down. Today you said, "Where go Mama?" So there's 3 words strung together in a sentence! You make your mother proud. Every day it seems you say another word that I had no idea you knew. Like two days ago you said "towel" and yesterday at the library you said "giraffe" (it sounded more like raff, but I knew what you meant). I'll try to list some more that I remember you know, but there really are too many to remember...truck, car, go, ball, baseball, blankie, thank you, down, cookie, cracker, water, drink, book, Sam, Dada, Mama, kitty, dog, tractor, baby, shoe, Elmo, shower...hmmm. I can't remember what else right now. Anyway, we are proud of you. Keep up the good work! Love, Mom
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
What's on the floor?
Hi Kids, Well, you certainly make a mess of my floors these days. Matthew, you are an expert at hurling food on the floor when you are upset. Mostly you get mad when you are not cleaned up and removed from your booster seat immediately upon showing your enthusiastic "all done" sign (rapidly waving your arms around and saying "done done"). You also like to drop your drink on the floor, and although you use sippy cups that are not supposed to leak, the force with which you drop or throw them always leaves splatters on the floor. So there is a myriad of food and drink remnants on the floor, some of which get wiped up and some of which don't immediately until mop up day.
Sam, your floor messes also deal with the kitchen or dining room. Your food mishaps are well, by accident, unlike Matthew's. You are getting very good at using a spoon, using it for oatmeal, cereal and milk and yogurt, but occasionally food misses your mouth and ends up on the floor.
For both of you, however, your "interesting" floor mishaps involve the bathroom. Matthew, you like to play in the toilet. There is no other way to say it. Today you took the toilet brush and tried to clean the toilet. You also try to put various kitchen items in the toilet, as I've previously reported, and other times you simply like to play in the toilet with your hands. Now "they" make locks for toilet seat covers so that little kids like you, Matthew, can't open them, but that also means they would be locked up for Sam, so we can't go that route. Instead, we try to keep the bathroom doors closed. Sam, your bathroom mishaps involve "misses". You are becoming quite good at using the potty, but as a boy, you are sometimes careless with your aim. Anyway, what all this activity in the bathroom leads to is "what's on the floor?" I will walk into the bathroom and see a puddle. Is that just toilet water or is it pee? Neither option is particularly appealing, although I must admit that I'd rather it's toilet water. I will sometimes inquire of Sam what happened, which usually ends up with a incoherent answer. Matthew, I usually catch you in the act, so it's really not much of a question. But at times it is and I stare at it for awhile, trying to determine it's origin, getting disgusted by the puddle, and eventually grab paper towels or a nearby towel, wipe up the mess, then spray it down with cleaner and wipe it again.
Someday I won't ask these questions. I may ask whether a particular spill in the kitchen is apple juice or water, but I won't be pondering whether something is toilet water or pee. I just won't. Except for this post I probably won't even remember that I even considered this question. Such is the life of a mom with little kids. Who knew that I would ponder such things? That's something that you just don't consider when you think of having children. Someday you may be asking the very same question of your own children. Love you, Mom
Sam, your floor messes also deal with the kitchen or dining room. Your food mishaps are well, by accident, unlike Matthew's. You are getting very good at using a spoon, using it for oatmeal, cereal and milk and yogurt, but occasionally food misses your mouth and ends up on the floor.
For both of you, however, your "interesting" floor mishaps involve the bathroom. Matthew, you like to play in the toilet. There is no other way to say it. Today you took the toilet brush and tried to clean the toilet. You also try to put various kitchen items in the toilet, as I've previously reported, and other times you simply like to play in the toilet with your hands. Now "they" make locks for toilet seat covers so that little kids like you, Matthew, can't open them, but that also means they would be locked up for Sam, so we can't go that route. Instead, we try to keep the bathroom doors closed. Sam, your bathroom mishaps involve "misses". You are becoming quite good at using the potty, but as a boy, you are sometimes careless with your aim. Anyway, what all this activity in the bathroom leads to is "what's on the floor?" I will walk into the bathroom and see a puddle. Is that just toilet water or is it pee? Neither option is particularly appealing, although I must admit that I'd rather it's toilet water. I will sometimes inquire of Sam what happened, which usually ends up with a incoherent answer. Matthew, I usually catch you in the act, so it's really not much of a question. But at times it is and I stare at it for awhile, trying to determine it's origin, getting disgusted by the puddle, and eventually grab paper towels or a nearby towel, wipe up the mess, then spray it down with cleaner and wipe it again.
Someday I won't ask these questions. I may ask whether a particular spill in the kitchen is apple juice or water, but I won't be pondering whether something is toilet water or pee. I just won't. Except for this post I probably won't even remember that I even considered this question. Such is the life of a mom with little kids. Who knew that I would ponder such things? That's something that you just don't consider when you think of having children. Someday you may be asking the very same question of your own children. Love you, Mom
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Sitting on the steps
Sam,
Years down the road you will read this and I'm sure you will be very surprised at what I'm going to write. I think there are all sorts of things that parents know that their kids think they don't know (and all sorts of things that parents don't know about their kids too...) and this is just one case. I wonder if my parents knew that Aunt Jessica and I would play cards or read with flashlights under the covers when we were younger? Well, anyway, we know that after we put you to bed you come out of your room and sit on the steps reading. Yes, we know. We sometimes pretend that we can't hear you turning pages, but we can. Sometimes we just let it go and after a few minutes you go back to bed on your own. The other day, for example, you came out of your room, were on the steps for a few minutes and went back on your own. In the morning you confessed that you came downstairs to see if Big Brother was on and finding that it wasn't you went back to bed. At least you are honest.
Other times we pretend not to hear you and you don't go back to bed. Then we have to tell you to go back to bed. Tonight, for example, you sat for awhile, then I told you to go to bed. You said, "No." Hmmm...outright defiance. That is something new. Usually you just don't do what we ask, but you don't say "No." I had to "convince" you it was time to go back to bed and you eventually did.
Anyway, we know. I'm sure this won't be the first instance where we know what's going on and you think we don't. You are a clever boy, however, and I'm sure you will pull the wool over our eyes in the future. And we are clever parents, so I'm sure there will be times when we don't know, but we act like we do. I mastered that skill when I was a teacher. The students hardly ever called my bluff and Jason is an excellent poker player, so you may have a hard time with us in the future. Although you do have our genetic makeup, so I'm sure you will be a worthy contender. Anyway, go back to bed. Love ya, Mom
Years down the road you will read this and I'm sure you will be very surprised at what I'm going to write. I think there are all sorts of things that parents know that their kids think they don't know (and all sorts of things that parents don't know about their kids too...) and this is just one case. I wonder if my parents knew that Aunt Jessica and I would play cards or read with flashlights under the covers when we were younger? Well, anyway, we know that after we put you to bed you come out of your room and sit on the steps reading. Yes, we know. We sometimes pretend that we can't hear you turning pages, but we can. Sometimes we just let it go and after a few minutes you go back to bed on your own. The other day, for example, you came out of your room, were on the steps for a few minutes and went back on your own. In the morning you confessed that you came downstairs to see if Big Brother was on and finding that it wasn't you went back to bed. At least you are honest.
Other times we pretend not to hear you and you don't go back to bed. Then we have to tell you to go back to bed. Tonight, for example, you sat for awhile, then I told you to go to bed. You said, "No." Hmmm...outright defiance. That is something new. Usually you just don't do what we ask, but you don't say "No." I had to "convince" you it was time to go back to bed and you eventually did.
Anyway, we know. I'm sure this won't be the first instance where we know what's going on and you think we don't. You are a clever boy, however, and I'm sure you will pull the wool over our eyes in the future. And we are clever parents, so I'm sure there will be times when we don't know, but we act like we do. I mastered that skill when I was a teacher. The students hardly ever called my bluff and Jason is an excellent poker player, so you may have a hard time with us in the future. Although you do have our genetic makeup, so I'm sure you will be a worthy contender. Anyway, go back to bed. Love ya, Mom
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Bath time, or maybe showers?
Hi boys, Jason and I have been trying to get you both to warm up to showers for a while. Matthew, you don't mind showers at this point, but you're much to unstable on slippery surfaces to really have you take a shower. And you're much to slippery to hold in a shower, too. And Sam, although you are stable on your feet (most of the time), you hate showers. In fact, when we took swimming lessons, I tried to shower you off once or twice and you shrieked and cried and in future swimming lessons you begged, pleaded and whined not to take a shower. So I generally haven't pushed it. Jason and I will occasionally ask if you want to take a shower, but that's about it. Lately, however, you've been much more interested in "showering." For you, showering involves taking a bath, and turning the water on to a trickle (out of the faucet, not the shower head) and putting you head under the cold trickle (you also prefer your baths cold). At times it gets in your eyes and I always have a towel ready for you to wipe off your eyes and hair. But you don't cry (which is a major change from previous showering experiences) and you're slowly acclimating yourself to showering.
Tonight during bathtime, Matthew, you grabbed the cup we fill with water to rinse during bath, and started filling it up and pouring it over your head. And you did that repeatedly, sometimes missing your head entirely, other times hitting your ear and other times pouring it squarely over your head, so water ran down your face. You didn't have any problem with that and even inspired Sam to try rinsing his own hair too. Fortunately we have another rinsing cup that Sam used to dump water over his head. Sam, you were amazed that Matthew didn't cry at all with having water in his face, and then you didn't cry either when water went in your face. You were both giggling and enjoying rinsing your hair. After awhile Matthew grabbed a washcloth, pretended to get some soap and then started scrubbing Sam's hair. Sam didn't mind that either and was quite tolerant of Matthew's cleaning efforts.
Tonight was probably the easiest bath I've ever given you two. You entertained each other, and were relatively innocuous in your entertainment (you didn't splash or stand) and just enjoyed each other and getting clean. And you rinsed yourselves and even scrubbed up yourselves. Matthew, you really love to scrub up, although we still need to work on getting areas other than your tummy scrubbed and you like to rub, rub, rub the tummy. It's a start. Anyway, maybe we can delay the showering for awhile. I had a fun time during bath and so did you. Love ya,
Mom
Tonight during bathtime, Matthew, you grabbed the cup we fill with water to rinse during bath, and started filling it up and pouring it over your head. And you did that repeatedly, sometimes missing your head entirely, other times hitting your ear and other times pouring it squarely over your head, so water ran down your face. You didn't have any problem with that and even inspired Sam to try rinsing his own hair too. Fortunately we have another rinsing cup that Sam used to dump water over his head. Sam, you were amazed that Matthew didn't cry at all with having water in his face, and then you didn't cry either when water went in your face. You were both giggling and enjoying rinsing your hair. After awhile Matthew grabbed a washcloth, pretended to get some soap and then started scrubbing Sam's hair. Sam didn't mind that either and was quite tolerant of Matthew's cleaning efforts.
Tonight was probably the easiest bath I've ever given you two. You entertained each other, and were relatively innocuous in your entertainment (you didn't splash or stand) and just enjoyed each other and getting clean. And you rinsed yourselves and even scrubbed up yourselves. Matthew, you really love to scrub up, although we still need to work on getting areas other than your tummy scrubbed and you like to rub, rub, rub the tummy. It's a start. Anyway, maybe we can delay the showering for awhile. I had a fun time during bath and so did you. Love ya,
Mom
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Babies
Hi Boys, We've been talking about babies some these days for obvious reasons. Sam, a few days ago, you lifted up your shirt to show me the baby in your tummy. We'll see how that turns out. You frequently look for your little sister in my tummy and have yet to find her. Someday soon.
Matthew, you love books with babies in them. And mailings with babies in them (Babies R Us stuff, and other baby catalogs). And you're obsessed with a baby knitting book that I have. I'm making the boys some vests to wear during the holidays. Anyway, whenever I get out my knitting book Matthew starts yelling and pointing, "Baby, baby!" And he puts up a big fuss if I don't give him the book. And I mean a big fuss. Matthew, you can really raise a ruckus when you want to which occurs when 1) you don't get what you want, 2) you can't get to where you want or 3) you can't reach/do/touch/play with/etc. what you want. The worst ruckus you raise these days occurs when I take away your toothbrush, though. I'm completely serious. I brush your teeth (I generally take your oral health seriously, unlike someone else...), then I let you chew on your toothbrush for awhile. Well, when I take it away it causes serious protests. The protests were so bad one night that I just let you take your toothbrush to bed. This afternoon when I was reading Sam some books before nap you disappeared from his room, which isn't all that uncommon as sometimes you go read books in your own room or otherwise entertain yourself. But today I found that you had climbing onto a stool and up onto the vanity and was chewing on your toothbrush. At least you didn't get hurt and you were happy. Maybe we should try bringing the toothbrush to church and see if that helps you to stay quiet...
Back to babies. Sam, you talk a lot about going to the hospital to get the baby and someday you will make the trek there, and I will be there waiting for you with your sister. Matthew, I'm not sure how that day will go. I have a feeling this will be a hard transition, but you are a pretty tough little guy. I hope your enthusiasm for babies extends toward your sister. Anyway, you are both my babies and always will be, love always, Mom
Matthew, you love books with babies in them. And mailings with babies in them (Babies R Us stuff, and other baby catalogs). And you're obsessed with a baby knitting book that I have. I'm making the boys some vests to wear during the holidays. Anyway, whenever I get out my knitting book Matthew starts yelling and pointing, "Baby, baby!" And he puts up a big fuss if I don't give him the book. And I mean a big fuss. Matthew, you can really raise a ruckus when you want to which occurs when 1) you don't get what you want, 2) you can't get to where you want or 3) you can't reach/do/touch/play with/etc. what you want. The worst ruckus you raise these days occurs when I take away your toothbrush, though. I'm completely serious. I brush your teeth (I generally take your oral health seriously, unlike someone else...), then I let you chew on your toothbrush for awhile. Well, when I take it away it causes serious protests. The protests were so bad one night that I just let you take your toothbrush to bed. This afternoon when I was reading Sam some books before nap you disappeared from his room, which isn't all that uncommon as sometimes you go read books in your own room or otherwise entertain yourself. But today I found that you had climbing onto a stool and up onto the vanity and was chewing on your toothbrush. At least you didn't get hurt and you were happy. Maybe we should try bringing the toothbrush to church and see if that helps you to stay quiet...
Back to babies. Sam, you talk a lot about going to the hospital to get the baby and someday you will make the trek there, and I will be there waiting for you with your sister. Matthew, I'm not sure how that day will go. I have a feeling this will be a hard transition, but you are a pretty tough little guy. I hope your enthusiasm for babies extends toward your sister. Anyway, you are both my babies and always will be, love always, Mom
Monday, August 8, 2011
Sleeping in
Dear boys,
I haven't set an alarm to wake up in the morning since, well, at least since before Matthew was born. See, in those days, Sam used to sleep in until 7 on most mornings. So if I/we had to be somewhere around 8 I'd have to set an alarm to make sure I was up in time. However, these days I never set an alarm. It seems there is always a child awake at 6 or 6:30, so "sleeping in" until 7 or later is just not going to happen. Ever. Matthew, you've been a early morning riser since day one, and I vaguely remember you getting up at 6AM most mornings all winter. Fortunately, with the time change that was moved back until 7 this spring (and has creeped up to around 6 or 6:30 most days), but now with the fall time change coming up, well, I can only hope for the best, otherwise I'm getting out my earplugs and I'll see you at 6AM or later.
Saturday morning was not a good morning for me. I didn't sleep well during the night, so Sam, when you came into Mom and Dad's room at 6:22, I moaned "No, no, no" and rolled over. Daddy, fortunately, wasn't as perturbed as I was and got up with you (and took you and Matthew who woke up moments later to get donuts which I had requested the night before...what wonderful Kirchhoff men). I "slept in" for another half hour or so, then got up, only to feel groggy for getting a little bit of extra sleep. Isn't that funny how that works? Isn't it funny how I refer to 7AM as sleeping in these days? I never would have thought that was sleeping in during my younger years, but now I would love to sleep in until 7AM. That sounds like heaven on earth (if there was such a thing).
Anyway, Sunday morning, Sam, you had learned your lesson and neither you or Matthew made a peep until 6:57AM. Jason and I had both woken up on our own by that time and Jason asked, "I wonder if the kids are ok?" As if on cue, Sam walked into our room moments later and started reading books with Jason and Matthew started crying for attention minutes later, so I brought him into bed with us and he cuddled for a few minutes. See how happy we all are at 7AM? See, isn't life better this way? I'm happy, Daddy's happy and you both get adequate, loving attention. It's not that we/I don't love you at 5:30 or 6AM, I guess that showing my love for you at that time consists of actually getting up with you, feeding you, getting you dressed (or helping you dress, in Sam's case), but the lovey-dovey-ness-my-children-are-wonderful-ness just isn't there. But give me another hour and I'm a completely different person.
Someday you'll understand. And someday I'll probably have to drag you out of bed at 10AM. And I'll reminisce about the days when you got up, full of energy and joy, at 6AM. Days when you got up and couldn't wait to see Jason and I. Days when you just want to snuggle a bit or read a few stories before starting off the day. Well, I'll see you in the morning. Love, Mom
I haven't set an alarm to wake up in the morning since, well, at least since before Matthew was born. See, in those days, Sam used to sleep in until 7 on most mornings. So if I/we had to be somewhere around 8 I'd have to set an alarm to make sure I was up in time. However, these days I never set an alarm. It seems there is always a child awake at 6 or 6:30, so "sleeping in" until 7 or later is just not going to happen. Ever. Matthew, you've been a early morning riser since day one, and I vaguely remember you getting up at 6AM most mornings all winter. Fortunately, with the time change that was moved back until 7 this spring (and has creeped up to around 6 or 6:30 most days), but now with the fall time change coming up, well, I can only hope for the best, otherwise I'm getting out my earplugs and I'll see you at 6AM or later.
Saturday morning was not a good morning for me. I didn't sleep well during the night, so Sam, when you came into Mom and Dad's room at 6:22, I moaned "No, no, no" and rolled over. Daddy, fortunately, wasn't as perturbed as I was and got up with you (and took you and Matthew who woke up moments later to get donuts which I had requested the night before...what wonderful Kirchhoff men). I "slept in" for another half hour or so, then got up, only to feel groggy for getting a little bit of extra sleep. Isn't that funny how that works? Isn't it funny how I refer to 7AM as sleeping in these days? I never would have thought that was sleeping in during my younger years, but now I would love to sleep in until 7AM. That sounds like heaven on earth (if there was such a thing).
Anyway, Sunday morning, Sam, you had learned your lesson and neither you or Matthew made a peep until 6:57AM. Jason and I had both woken up on our own by that time and Jason asked, "I wonder if the kids are ok?" As if on cue, Sam walked into our room moments later and started reading books with Jason and Matthew started crying for attention minutes later, so I brought him into bed with us and he cuddled for a few minutes. See how happy we all are at 7AM? See, isn't life better this way? I'm happy, Daddy's happy and you both get adequate, loving attention. It's not that we/I don't love you at 5:30 or 6AM, I guess that showing my love for you at that time consists of actually getting up with you, feeding you, getting you dressed (or helping you dress, in Sam's case), but the lovey-dovey-ness-my-children-are-wonderful-ness just isn't there. But give me another hour and I'm a completely different person.
Someday you'll understand. And someday I'll probably have to drag you out of bed at 10AM. And I'll reminisce about the days when you got up, full of energy and joy, at 6AM. Days when you got up and couldn't wait to see Jason and I. Days when you just want to snuggle a bit or read a few stories before starting off the day. Well, I'll see you in the morning. Love, Mom
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Guest Post from Dad #2
Boys, I have a confession to make and I think I owe you an apology. (although I'm not sure as the issue still seems somewhat unsettled in my mind) Well here goes... I don't take your dental care very seriously. When I analyze the situation - it just doesn't make much sense to me. Your teeth are going to fall out, in fact it is a cultural tradition that we celebrate the fact your teeth fall out. There is even a mythical creature? or person that has been created to assist with this celebration. So why do we need to be so concerned about brushing all the time. Now I normally do brush your teeth but there are times when you're (read - I'm) very tired and just want to go straight to bed. Whats the big deal? It's like having an old car that you are going to take to the junkyard but stopping to get the oil changed on the way. So... I'm sorry I will try to do better.
God Bless, Dad
God Bless, Dad
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Earliest memories
Dear Sam,
Last night Jason and I were talking and I was saying how I would probably approach the John Deere electric riding toy the same way you did--tentatively. You see, yesterday was the first day you really relished in riding the little John Deere at Grammy and Papa's. Not only did you relish it, but your were pretty much overjoyed as you drove the tractor around the driveway and sang incoherent songs which Jason thought were in German. Anyway, you initially were scared to even sit on it, but Daddy and Papa nudged and urged you to try it and took baby steps (running it while you walked beside, sitting on it without it moving, slowly moving, then off you go!) and eventually you warmed up to it. I think I probably would have done the same thing. I was always more tentative and careful with things, preferring to watch before jumping right in to something. Some call it fearful, I call it careful.
Jason joked that he wouldn't have approached the John Deere in that way, he said he was way to big for it. Silly Daddy. He knew that I meant I would have acted that way when I was a little kid, not right now, then I started teasing him about being old and not being able to remember his early years. We then reminisced about my earliest memories which are from when I was three years old. And you're almost there now. It's a little scary for me to think that you may retain some memories from your third year and time will only tell what you will hold onto. But for now, you'll have to deal with my earliest memory.
I remember going to Chicago when I was three with my mom, Grandma Sue. We went to the Lincoln Park Zoo and I remember riding in the backseat of the car on the way there and it was raining. When we got to the zoo there was a huge line of strollers for rent since the zoo wasn't busy because of the rain. I can vividly remember the line of strollers just outside the zoo. I can't remember any of the animals, but I remember the strollers. More importantly, I remember what wasn't on this trip to Chicago and the zoo. It was my sister, Aunt Jessica. I remember feeling quite smug that my sister had to go to school and couldn't go to the zoo, but I got to go. I felt so important. How's that for human nature? Attached to my earliest memory isn't the joy of seeing exotic animals, but enjoying something that my sister couldn't. It's funny to think that my earliest memory includes such details, but it's also a reminder of the reality of the ugly side of human nature. Watch out for that.
Soon you'll be able to remember things from your life too and you'll share stories with others just like I am now. Hopefully, they'll be good stories and you won't remember the uglier side of my nature which you sometimes see these days, and as we've all seen, has been present from the beginning. Time will only tell what your little mind will retain and relish and share in later years.
Last night Jason and I were talking and I was saying how I would probably approach the John Deere electric riding toy the same way you did--tentatively. You see, yesterday was the first day you really relished in riding the little John Deere at Grammy and Papa's. Not only did you relish it, but your were pretty much overjoyed as you drove the tractor around the driveway and sang incoherent songs which Jason thought were in German. Anyway, you initially were scared to even sit on it, but Daddy and Papa nudged and urged you to try it and took baby steps (running it while you walked beside, sitting on it without it moving, slowly moving, then off you go!) and eventually you warmed up to it. I think I probably would have done the same thing. I was always more tentative and careful with things, preferring to watch before jumping right in to something. Some call it fearful, I call it careful.
Jason joked that he wouldn't have approached the John Deere in that way, he said he was way to big for it. Silly Daddy. He knew that I meant I would have acted that way when I was a little kid, not right now, then I started teasing him about being old and not being able to remember his early years. We then reminisced about my earliest memories which are from when I was three years old. And you're almost there now. It's a little scary for me to think that you may retain some memories from your third year and time will only tell what you will hold onto. But for now, you'll have to deal with my earliest memory.
I remember going to Chicago when I was three with my mom, Grandma Sue. We went to the Lincoln Park Zoo and I remember riding in the backseat of the car on the way there and it was raining. When we got to the zoo there was a huge line of strollers for rent since the zoo wasn't busy because of the rain. I can vividly remember the line of strollers just outside the zoo. I can't remember any of the animals, but I remember the strollers. More importantly, I remember what wasn't on this trip to Chicago and the zoo. It was my sister, Aunt Jessica. I remember feeling quite smug that my sister had to go to school and couldn't go to the zoo, but I got to go. I felt so important. How's that for human nature? Attached to my earliest memory isn't the joy of seeing exotic animals, but enjoying something that my sister couldn't. It's funny to think that my earliest memory includes such details, but it's also a reminder of the reality of the ugly side of human nature. Watch out for that.
Soon you'll be able to remember things from your life too and you'll share stories with others just like I am now. Hopefully, they'll be good stories and you won't remember the uglier side of my nature which you sometimes see these days, and as we've all seen, has been present from the beginning. Time will only tell what your little mind will retain and relish and share in later years.
Friday, August 5, 2011
Guest Post - Dad
Well since this was my idea lets get this started...
Economic Lesson 1- Supply and Demand
Sam, although we have had several discussion about this specific lesson I thought it might be helpful for you to have it in writing as well.
So when we started the potty training exercise it quickly became clear that there should be remuneration for your ability to "produce". In the beginning your production of #1 flowed freely and we were more than happy to give you a treat every time your production was localized in the proper receptacle. I even enjoyed shopping for matchbox cars to pay you for your "work".
Unfortunately you became so efficient and productive in producing #1 that our willingness to pay dropped due to this excess supply. Now at the same time you were having trouble delivering #2 to the desired location and therefore we raised the stakes and offered you a trip to the toy store where you could have whatever you desired. In summary this is an excellent example of what happens in a free market system: ceteris paribus - excess supply will cause a drop in value while limited supply will lead to an increase in value.
On a side note - I hope by the time you read this, the ramblings of John Maynard Keynes will no longer be viewed as economically viable. If for some strange Keynes is still required reading in your education journey, please also read Ludwid von Mises.
God Bless, Dad
Economic Lesson 1- Supply and Demand
Sam, although we have had several discussion about this specific lesson I thought it might be helpful for you to have it in writing as well.
So when we started the potty training exercise it quickly became clear that there should be remuneration for your ability to "produce". In the beginning your production of #1 flowed freely and we were more than happy to give you a treat every time your production was localized in the proper receptacle. I even enjoyed shopping for matchbox cars to pay you for your "work".
Unfortunately you became so efficient and productive in producing #1 that our willingness to pay dropped due to this excess supply. Now at the same time you were having trouble delivering #2 to the desired location and therefore we raised the stakes and offered you a trip to the toy store where you could have whatever you desired. In summary this is an excellent example of what happens in a free market system: ceteris paribus - excess supply will cause a drop in value while limited supply will lead to an increase in value.
On a side note - I hope by the time you read this, the ramblings of John Maynard Keynes will no longer be viewed as economically viable. If for some strange Keynes is still required reading in your education journey, please also read Ludwid von Mises.
God Bless, Dad
Rebranding
It's been nearly a year since I started this journey of detailing our lives and Jason suggested a rebranding of the blog. So here goes. He suggested writing it as if I was writing to the kids in the future, so future posts will have a different tone to them than they previously have. I liked his idea too (why does he always have to be right???) and we'll see how the new format goes. Anyway, it will also give me some more ideas for a new blog title. Hmmm....maybe, "Letters to little Kirchhoffs" or ???
Stairs
I don't generally think much about going up or down stairs, except to think about how tiring it is to go up stairs so frequently during the day, often carrying a 25 lb. toddler on my hip and with 25 extra pounds around my middle. However, for Matthew to go down stairs, in particular, it is clear that it is a very thoughtful, deliberative event. He's not much into the "sit and slide down on the tummy" method, instead preferring to try standing and walking down the stairs as he sees me, Jason and Sam do. He's such a daring little kid.
So today after doing some vacuuming upstairs it was time to descend. We decided to take our time and I decided to closely watch Matthew's progression down the stairs (I usually keep an eye on him, but not too closely). He stood at the top of the stairs and contemplated what to do for a few moments. He had a book in one hand that he apparently wanted to carry downstairs with him, so that required a different tactic to descent than when he isn't carrying anything. He put the book in his right hand and used his left hand to grab one of the vertical supports of our railing. He slowly inched his foot toward the edge of the stair, slowly, slowly, then he was there. He slid his foot off the edge of the stair and started bending his opposite knee. Then he stopped. Something wasn't quite right. He looked up, then re-positioned his hand on the next vertical support. Apparently he thought the balance wouldn't be quite right with the one he had originally grabbed. Then he inched his foot forward again, slowly, slowly, and slid it off the edge of the stair. He bent his opposite leg and lowered his foot to the next stair. Then he lowered his other foot.
On to the next step. First he had to decide what vertical support to grab. Then the slow movement of the foot over the edge and either, he stepped down, or stopped and moved his hand to another vertical support and tried again. He did this for three steps, then he sat on the step and started reading his book. Apparently he had reached as far as he wanted to and wanted to take a break. So then I picked him up and carried him down the rest of the stairs.
So today after doing some vacuuming upstairs it was time to descend. We decided to take our time and I decided to closely watch Matthew's progression down the stairs (I usually keep an eye on him, but not too closely). He stood at the top of the stairs and contemplated what to do for a few moments. He had a book in one hand that he apparently wanted to carry downstairs with him, so that required a different tactic to descent than when he isn't carrying anything. He put the book in his right hand and used his left hand to grab one of the vertical supports of our railing. He slowly inched his foot toward the edge of the stair, slowly, slowly, then he was there. He slid his foot off the edge of the stair and started bending his opposite knee. Then he stopped. Something wasn't quite right. He looked up, then re-positioned his hand on the next vertical support. Apparently he thought the balance wouldn't be quite right with the one he had originally grabbed. Then he inched his foot forward again, slowly, slowly, and slid it off the edge of the stair. He bent his opposite leg and lowered his foot to the next stair. Then he lowered his other foot.
On to the next step. First he had to decide what vertical support to grab. Then the slow movement of the foot over the edge and either, he stepped down, or stopped and moved his hand to another vertical support and tried again. He did this for three steps, then he sat on the step and started reading his book. Apparently he had reached as far as he wanted to and wanted to take a break. So then I picked him up and carried him down the rest of the stairs.
Monday, August 1, 2011
Stomach pains
Well, today was a pretty normal day until around 11:30 AM. Matthew was down for his morning nap (or nap for the day, I suppose I should say since he didn't nap again) and Sam and I were downstairs. I tried laying on the couch for awhile to recoup some energy (since Matthew woke up me at 5:21AM) while Sam played, but that didn't really work. Sam tried to lay beside me, on top of me, share my pillow and other antics and, well, it just wasn't very restful. Then he started complaining that he felt sick and lifted up his shirt, pointing at his stomach. He then doubled over and hugged his abdomen. I wasn't sure what was going on, but my initial thought was that he was constipated since he hadn't done his usual No. 2 that morning (which is occurring pretty exclusively in the toilet). He whimpered for a minute or two, then I suggested we go take a nap upstairs. He very willingly obliged and I was very agreeable to the idea of a nap with Sam in his bed, so upstairs we went. He kept saying that he was sick and would clutch his tummy on the way up the stairs. I carried him up most of the way and we got to his new big bed (he sleeps on a full-size mattress on the floor these days). I rubbed his back awhile and soon we were both asleep.
At around 12:30 I heard Matthew cry out so I snuck out of Sam's room and got Matthew up and took him downstairs to have some lunch. I gave him Sam's sandwich that was untouched and he happily ate away. Moments later I heard Sam crying/screaming for me. So upstairs I went and retrieved Sam. He was still in pain and complaining about his stomach. I asked if he was hungry and he said he wanted a sandwich. I made one for him and he crawled into his chair, only to try to lay in it moments later. He then climbed down, sandwich untouched and laid on the floor. At that point I was getting a little concerned so decided we'd go to the doctor to rule out appendicitis or something serious. I had never seen him like this before and he just seemed to be in so much pain.
I got everyone packed up into the van, dropped Matthew off and Ken and Cheri's and went to the doctor. Sam periodically throughout the drive would whimper and cry out and squirm in discomfort, but then he'd be okay. The doctors visit involved no crying at all, even during the finger prick and blood draw, just more whimpering and squirming. All tests came back negative and I left fairly certain my little boy was stopped up. We picked up some juice and laxative on the way home, stopped at Ken and Cheri's briefly where Sam continued his whimpering, squirming and discomfort, got Matthew and went home. I suddenly figured out how to fix the "On Demand" on the TV and we watched some Berenstein Bears. Sam laid mostly still on the couch, I sat beside Sam and Matthew sat on my lap most of the time.
Sam didn't have any dinner, although Matthew ferociously gobbled up pizza, pears and a brownie. Around 6:30 I took Matthew up for a bath and Sam followed. He came into the bathroom with us, but then said he was still sick and went to his room to lay down. Matthew tried all sorts of antics to engage Sam including jumping on his bed, lying beside him, giving him books and so on. Still nothing. Matthew took his bath, then, as he always does, he ran into Sam's room to play on his bed. Jason had come upstairs and was in bed with Sam. Suddenly, Sam got out of bed and started running after Matthew who had fled to another room. The two boys ran back and started jumping on the bed and climbing on Jason. Sam then started taking all the books out of his basket beside his bed and throwing them around the room. He and Matthew then ran out of the room again and ran back. Sam then grabbed his kleenexs and started throwing them around the room. Goodness. It was as if all his energy that he conserved by laying around all day was coming at now, at 7PM, when I hoped he'd be ready for bed soon.
Anyway, Jason put Matthew to bed, then he and Sam went downstairs while I went to work on the computer. Shortly, I was summoned in vague terms by Jason which means one thing: Sam pooped and Jason doesn't deal with poop. I think we were all relieved, Sam most of all. I cleaned him up, then he continued his energy-expelling antics and was as normal as ever. Now I know what a constipated Sam is like.
At around 12:30 I heard Matthew cry out so I snuck out of Sam's room and got Matthew up and took him downstairs to have some lunch. I gave him Sam's sandwich that was untouched and he happily ate away. Moments later I heard Sam crying/screaming for me. So upstairs I went and retrieved Sam. He was still in pain and complaining about his stomach. I asked if he was hungry and he said he wanted a sandwich. I made one for him and he crawled into his chair, only to try to lay in it moments later. He then climbed down, sandwich untouched and laid on the floor. At that point I was getting a little concerned so decided we'd go to the doctor to rule out appendicitis or something serious. I had never seen him like this before and he just seemed to be in so much pain.
I got everyone packed up into the van, dropped Matthew off and Ken and Cheri's and went to the doctor. Sam periodically throughout the drive would whimper and cry out and squirm in discomfort, but then he'd be okay. The doctors visit involved no crying at all, even during the finger prick and blood draw, just more whimpering and squirming. All tests came back negative and I left fairly certain my little boy was stopped up. We picked up some juice and laxative on the way home, stopped at Ken and Cheri's briefly where Sam continued his whimpering, squirming and discomfort, got Matthew and went home. I suddenly figured out how to fix the "On Demand" on the TV and we watched some Berenstein Bears. Sam laid mostly still on the couch, I sat beside Sam and Matthew sat on my lap most of the time.
Sam didn't have any dinner, although Matthew ferociously gobbled up pizza, pears and a brownie. Around 6:30 I took Matthew up for a bath and Sam followed. He came into the bathroom with us, but then said he was still sick and went to his room to lay down. Matthew tried all sorts of antics to engage Sam including jumping on his bed, lying beside him, giving him books and so on. Still nothing. Matthew took his bath, then, as he always does, he ran into Sam's room to play on his bed. Jason had come upstairs and was in bed with Sam. Suddenly, Sam got out of bed and started running after Matthew who had fled to another room. The two boys ran back and started jumping on the bed and climbing on Jason. Sam then started taking all the books out of his basket beside his bed and throwing them around the room. He and Matthew then ran out of the room again and ran back. Sam then grabbed his kleenexs and started throwing them around the room. Goodness. It was as if all his energy that he conserved by laying around all day was coming at now, at 7PM, when I hoped he'd be ready for bed soon.
Anyway, Jason put Matthew to bed, then he and Sam went downstairs while I went to work on the computer. Shortly, I was summoned in vague terms by Jason which means one thing: Sam pooped and Jason doesn't deal with poop. I think we were all relieved, Sam most of all. I cleaned him up, then he continued his energy-expelling antics and was as normal as ever. Now I know what a constipated Sam is like.
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