Thoughts and Words Ill-Sorted

Erin

Late last night, as I was staring down yet another bad night of sleep with busy little Nathaniel, I decided it was time to wean him from his pacifier, as a first step to getting him to sleep on his own.  At the moment he sleeps only if 1) he wants to 2) a parent is sitting or sleeping with him 3) and the light is off.  So you can see why we’re going crazy here.  It was a pretty rough night, and a not-so-nice birthday present for him, but I am hoping that it’s the first step to better sleep for all of us.  Weaning helped considerably (he’s not waking every hour-and-a-half!), but we need to get him to sleep on his own so that he has more opportunities for sleep during the day.  And so that his mother doesn’t go crazy, sweet as it is to cuddle up with him sometimes.

Erin

Our Valentine’s Day (or series of days) was pretty low-key.  Sydney is the holiday humbug in the family, but there is something about being surrounded by slow-moving PDA couples (this is a college town, after all) on the street that makes me want to do things differently, too.  So we did little things, here and there: in the past week Sydney came home with an orchid, some lovely clementines, and, yesterday, raspberries and good ice cream.  I slipped him a small wooden puzzle a couple of days ago (yes, a friend has already given me the “really?  a puzzle, Erin?” look).  We shared a bit of the ice cream with Nathaniel, who loved it, and the raspberries with Katherine, who loved them.  For the actual evening of Valentine’s Day, though, I slipped out for choir practice, where I had a great time, and left Sydney to the kids.  Nathaniel apparently plastered himself against the door and howled his disapproval of my absence for all the world to hear.  Yes, an odd way to celebrate all around!

On Monday was a little Valentine’s Day potluck at the church where I take the kids, and, as an experiment, I tried taking real food, of a sort: small heart-shaped oat cookies (okay, okay, more like biscuits) and sweet potato crescent rolls.  The invitation said “lunch,” after all.  But I saw that my real food was abandoned in favor of sweet scones and cupcakes.  No worries: Sydney was more than happy to see the rolls reappear in our house, and I was glad to have some reasonably nutritious food to keep both kids happy at the event . . . before they figured out what frosting tasted like.

Erin

I often get asked for directions when I’m out walking with the kids, so I’ve gotten used to being approached by strange people with cameras.  This one had me stumped, though:

Young Asian woman: “Can you direct me to Oxford University?”

We were standing on a street in central Oxford, with the University Parks on one side, one of the colleges’ cricket fields on another, a science building on another . . .

I confirmed that it really was the university she was looking for, rather than some particular aspect of the university, and then wasn’t sure whether I was helping when I told her it was all around her.  She had her camera ready to go, so I wish I’d been able to point out a landmark building or something in the area.

Erin

Exactly one year ago, I was crawling up the stairs to get Sydney so that we could go to the hospital, from which we’d just returned (via a lovely walk through the parks) after a checkup.  I was, frankly, quite worried, since my first experience of childbirth had left a few bad memories, and the doctors here had seemed somewhat worried about my size late in the pregnancy–a pregnancy that had taken place in three countries, among a lot of other life changes.  My parents were quite anxious, since they had to return home in just a few more days and they had not yet met their new grandchild.

Little did I know that we would have a big, gorgeous son born shortly after Valentine’s Day ended in the UK, and shortly before it would end in the States.

Little did I know how shocked I would be when the nurses turned to Sydney with: “Well, Dad, what do we have?” and I realized that I was now the mother of not only a daughter, but a son as well.

Little did I know that labor would be quite different this time around, and that I would not only walk out of the hospital, but would be tempted to walk home from the hospital (2 miles) with my new baby.

Little did I know that he would hold to newborn patterns (eating and sleeping every hour or so) for a long, long time.

Little did I know that he would be such a good cuddler.

Little did I know that he would be holding his own against Katherine by the time he reached a year, in appetite, size, and will, though with a very different temperament from the one that had dominated our house for the previous two years.

Little did I know that he would charm all three of us, Katherine not least of all.

Little did I know that Sydney would be so in love with a little boy, after all his talk about how cute little girls are.

Little did I know how the heart makes room for more, much as I’d hoped for that very thing.

Happy birthday, Nathaniel.  We look forward to many more surprises from you.

Erin

What color are my eyes?  Please use the picture from the previous post, as best you can what with the swollen eyelid and all.

Sydney and I have had a lot of disagreements over color in our relationship, and we each think the other one is batty!

Erin

The weapon:

The culprit:

The result:

I was having a bit of fun with Katherine this morning, using the recent snowfall as my prop.  (Incidentally, this is our second “snowfall,” a term that stays in quotes for me because it’s gone the next day, broken down by city life and English temperateness into slush and then just English wet.  Does snow count if it never sticks around??)  Looking into the back garden, she started singing a song about snow.

Katherine, can you say sssssssnow?

‘now!

SSSSsssssssnow, like ssssssnake?

‘now!

Then she looked at me, realizing that “snow” and “no” sounded exactly the same when she said them,  and then she laughed.  Is there a category for “child’s first pun” in the baby book?

* * *

Katherine just started us in a rousing rendition of “The Wheels on the Bus.”  Nathaniel looked from one of us to the other, both confused and elated, and clapped along.

* * *

I made these savory scones last night, and they were really, really good.  Okay, so I didn’t have rye flour, I do not put a whole stick of butter in my scones (half applesauce), and I made a few other tweaks, but whatever came out of all that was delicious.  I love the mix of sweet and salt in it.  This savory bread pudding is in the oven at the moment, and I can’t wait to see how it tastes.  How, you might ask, do I get the chance to make fun new dishes?  I let Nathaniel into a formerly forbidden lower cupboard, after removing a few glass dishes, so my kitchen floor was littered in bread pans, casserole dishes, and the like.  I also let Katherine “help” by eating odd bits of bread and vegetable as I cooked.  I occasionally get large chunks of cooking time, as long as I don’t mind a bit of chaos in the process.

Erin

Sydney arrived late last night, a bit worn out from long lines at the border and a flurry of activity at the airport in Copenhagen (he said half the flights to London were canceled).  We took a nice loop around the parks as a family this morning, enjoying the deep fog and the quiet parks (apparently slushy footing keeps the regulars away).  After a long job season and lots of winter travel, we’re hoping to ease into a less stressful breed of normal for awhile!

I’ve been getting a lot of requests from Katherine to read “The Tale of Peter Rabbit.”  I recently bought her a nice collection of Beatrix Potter’s stories, and we’ve worked through a handful so far, but Katherine always returns to the Peter Rabbit story.  Can’t say I’m surprised that she’s not riveted by stories of a tailor whose mice sew the waistcoat (the story was stuffed with millinery terms!  good grief!!) or a hedgehog who lives in the hill and (surprise!) spends her days ironing the other animals’ clothes, but it does make me laugh that Katherine loves the Peter Rabbit story so much.  I mean, for all the nods to obedience (Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cotton-tail, Peter’s sisters, were good little bunnies, and at the end of the story they are rewarded with a supper of bread and milk and blackberries), the story is filled with the antics of Peter.  So much for obedience: he eats all sorts of good things, has grand adventures, and the only bad thing that happens to him is a tummy-ache that lasts the evening.  Such a lovely English story, with the large kitchen garden of Mr. McGregor becoming the “wild” and “dangerous”–and very alluring–site of Peter’s adventures.  Like Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cotton-tail, we’ve gathered our blackberries on walks through Oxfordshire, and we’ve had our own currant buns.  Everything about this story looks different to me now that we’re living in England, from the illustrations of the robins (much smaller than American robins) to the dominance of cabbage in the garden!  So many classic children’s stories are English (Peter Pan, Winnie-the-Pooh, Alice in Wonderland), and it’s quite a treat to be here now, at this point in our children’s lives.

Erin

What’s better than having one kid working on molars?  How about two?  When your spouse is away?  Both kids are following me around the house, crying piteously, so it’s making it a bit difficult to envision this weekend as one big play session, but I’ll do my best, with the help of a playgroup or two.  This is Sydney’s fourth work trip in two months, and we’re all looking forward to having him home for a more normal routine in the near future.

We’re also having one of our few cold spells, so neither kid is thrilled about stroller rides.  Me being me, however, I tell myself it’s important to get them out, regardless of weather, so they resign themselves to lots of blankets and bitter winds.  Good for preparing them for North American winter!

On the other hand, both kids have been growing a lot recently.  Nathaniel fits perfectly in his 18-month clothes, and the top of Katherine’s head is at my waistline.  He is responding to his name and favorite words (like “ball), and she is undertaking more and more complex “missions” for me in the house.  Yesterday I asked her to tell Sydney that supper was ready, and, after she had disappeared for twenty minutes, I found her settled in on the top floor with her dad.  She had taken the opportunity to camp out with him before conveying her message: “Supper ready!”

Erin