How Do YOU Know?

Here’s something I wonder. How does Hiram know he doesn’t want his little brother? I mean. It seems like having the foresight to anticipate the potential pitfalls associated with a sibling is actually a demonstration of some very advanced critical thinking ability. (Oh, but of course!)

Maybe they talk at daycare? This seems like a little bit of a long shot considering when I talk to Hiram’s friends at school, we spend our time sorting out how we’re related (Hiram’s mama! Not my mama!) Or we talk about whose truck is whose.

Are these the same kids who are pulling Hiram aside during large motor activity and saying things like “Dude, whatever you do, do NOT get a baby brother. You will hate it.”

I almost hope so. Because otherwise it’s me. Or us. Somehow giving Hiram the idea that e-Lou is trouble. It couldn’t be, could it? Have I made this mistake? Have I given him this impression?

Crimany.

e-Lou: Second Trimester

Look at that. e-Lou and I are already done with the second trimester. My littlest boy continues to go easy on me with only minor (minor!) side effects to contend with.

The ultrasound confirmed what I already knew– e-Lou is comfortably situated with his feet aimed directly at my bladder. And he’s a kicker. So haha. But actually, even that isn’t too bad. It also explains why I’d classify e-Lou’s kicks to be more of the “clunk” variety.

An update on some of his most important, or at least, most known stats:

• Heartbeat: approx 140 beats/min as of this morning
• Gender: Boy
• Due date: Still December 22, 2011 (Despite his elusive nature, I think he’ll be early. I don’t know why.)
• Favorite foods: Cottage cheese and ice cream
• Bedroom colors (will be): navy and light blue, forest green and burgundy
• Important Notes: e-Lou makes his mama want to purge, purge, purge. I’m actually afraid for when I start nesting in earnest. Also, for the past few weeks, I’ve been affectionately rubbing what I thought was e-Lou’s head. It turns out, that was his bony little booty. Oops.

Sending Him Out Into the World

There’s something about sending your baby out into the world each day. The end goal is always the same but journey there is always, always different.

• Sometimes a little TLC is all it takes to coax Hike into his jeans and T-shirt.
• Sometimes, shoes and socks slip on easier with a banana and cup of milk.
• Sometimes, Hike’s mama will do anything to get her kid to sit still in his seat.

What Hike Likes: Star Shorts

The recent cold snap put quite the damper on Hiram’s style. Especially considering his “star shorts” are the only bottoms he ever wants to wear.

I’m seriously considering an investment in a few pairs of leggings. Shorts over leggings. Rock on little man.

Big Boy!

After *almost* converting Hiram’s bed to a “big boy bed” about sixteen times, we finally did it last Friday. So far, converting the bed was way harder than converting Hiram to his new lifestyle (and converting the bed was pretty easy).

After a celebration dinner in the IKEA cafe, we headed over to the kid’s beds to introduce Hiram to the concept and let him pick his blankets.

He decided on the zoo pattern.

Hiram’s first night in his very own big boy bed.

Brad and I agree, the switch was good for Hiram. He’s been telling everyone about his “new” bed and that sweet little swagger of his has been out in full force.

No Two Babies!

Yesterday, I told you I’ve decided to start a little series to track the progress we’re making towards convincing Hiram that a new little brother is actually really awesome. I guess in order to get you to buy-in to this series it might help to tell you about how we came to realize we had this problem in the first place.

Here are a few of the most poignant examples:

• The first time we tried to tell Hiram he was going to have a baby brother he said, “No! No two babies!!”
• The second time we tried to tell Hiram he was going to have a baby brother, he said, “No way!”
• When we asked Hiram what he thought we should name his baby brother, he said, “No name my baby brother!”

Hiram reinforces this sentiment with his actions. For example, ever since I’ve started to show, Hiram wants nothing to do with me. He doesn’t want to sit by me at dinner, he doesn’t want me to tuck him into bed and he won’t let me read him any stories.

When I try to take him out of his car seat, he says, “Daddy do it!” and pushes me away. He pushes me away…by my belly, people!

Sometimes, he also tries to punch me in the belly.

Is this Hiram being two? Or is this Hiram being anti-two-babies?

You decide.

Houston, We Have a Problem

The best way to avoid a problem is to worry about it profusely.

Worry yourself to restless sleep.

Worry all day long.

Worry even when people tell you it will be fine. That way, the thing you’re worrying about will never happen. This actually works. I do it all the time.

Unfortunately, we’ve got a pretty big problem. So big, in fact, that all the worrying I did before didn’t help. At least not very much. At all.

I’m stalling.

I don’t want to tell you what’s wrong.

I don’t want to write it here because I don’t want it to be true.

But I will write it here.

In a minute.

…

…

It’s Hiram.

He doesn’t want his baby brother.

There. I said it.

I’ve known this for a while but I’ve been holding out on you. Hoping I could eventually post some pithy little story about how Hiram wasn’t too sure about e-Lou at first but now he’s all a-flutter with excitement.

Alas, still not really all a-flutter.

I’ve been working on this post for the last hour and the content (all brilliant and important, of course) has far exceeded my self-imposed per-post-word-count limit. So. I’m starting a new series. Hopefully a short-lived series of short little pithy stories on how we identified, grappled with and eventually resolved this little problem of ours.

Stay tuned…

All Aboard!

Phew! Still recovering from an exhausting weekend visiting Brad’s family in Green Bay.

Not Brad’s family’s fault.

Hiram was way too excited about the hotel to sleep that well. In fact, on Sunday morning, the entire family was up at 2:45. Yep. The only good news was that it meant we bright-eyed and bushy-tailed when Brad’s cousin and her husband picked us up at 5:30 a.m. for pit crew duty during their half marathon.

Anyway, the weekend highlight was our trip to Bay Beach, a local low-key amusement park where Hiram took his maiden voyage on a kid ride. Of course, I didn’t remember to bring our camera, so you’re going to have to settle for a few word photos.

1. Hiram, letting his second cousin Emma (cute, blond 1st grader) hold his hand and walk him towards the ring of red, yellow, green and blue race cars.
2. Hiram, stepping carefully and tentatively into the yellow (?) car and sitting down. Hiram letting Emma help buckle him.
3. Hiram’s little blond head going around and around. His face unsure and afraid. But no tears.
4. Hiram’s brown eyes scanning the parents for me. Scanning and scanning. Looking for me.
5. Hiram hearing us cheer and seeing us clap. Then Hiram’s smile directed down into his chest. Just a little smile on his lips but a big one in his eyes.
6. Hiram’s swagger as he walked off his first ride.
7. Hiram’s continued swagger and his ever-bolder requests to try other things: the bugs, the boats, the swings, the slide, the train (and actually riding a few of these too, he changed his mind at go-time on a few separate occasions).
8. Hiram’s fist pump as he hollered “All Aboard!” The three of us riding together (squished in a seat much too small for Brad, me, e-Lou and Hiram) around the little train track.

Tech Troubles

Megan, do you remember that job you had where your computer was always on the fritz and the IT guy’s (completely sincere) solution involved you wearing some kind of magnet collar whenever you wanted to touch their technology?

Do you still have that collar?

I am not sure why, but I have been encountering SO many technology issues in the past week. It’s starting to freak me out. I’m not talking silly little issues either — these problems run deep people. Check it out:

• While doing a routine update to a web page at work, one of the links transformed itself into a series of dashes, zeros and n’s. I don’t know what this says in computer language, but my guess is it’s something like, “FREEZE!” It’s still broken and while the IT guys haven’t gone so far as to suggest a collar, they have stopped returning my calls.
• While doing routine updates to a very important excel document at work, I hit some button and permanently deleted the most important column. Forever.
• While placing a routine call to my salon for a bang trim, my phone put me on mute. And froze when I tried to hang up. The only way to end the call was to remove the battery. This happened three times (I really need my bangs trimmed). When my call finally worked, the salon lady was a tiny bit beside herself.
• While taking a routine break to watch a short video link on my home computer, the screen froze and I heard this sound: BZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. The only solution was to turn my computer off by holding the button down for…well… a while. When I told this to Brad he said, “that’s not good.”

Wanna know what is good? A tech free weekend. Maybe the break will give me a chance to build up some good karma again.

Tie Up Some Time

Hike and I spent what felt like the entire morning in the doctor’s office today. Nothing serious, just a post-croup check-up. And a flu shot. And a Hep A vaccine. And a yadayadayada.

Doctor’s offices are one of my least favorite places to hang with Hike. Mainly because we’re confined to such a small space and every single thing he wants to play with is completely disgusting. Oh, you’re being a puppy? Good puppy! No! Bad puppy! Stop licking the floor, puppy!

Fortunately, Hiram found something totally awesome to do while we were waiting and waiting and waiting. Which was, he practiced tying my shoes. You could tell he was practicing because he was saying, “around the tree, through the hole, etc.” just like Brad says when they tie shoes together.

I know, it’s a little sad to feel like my shoes are the cleanest toy option available. But these particular knots took up more than 20 minutes of waiting time. (Thank you, God, for shoe laces).