When I was a very little kid (3-5, let's say), I overheard my mom talking on the phone about how a nice older lady named Kay had gotten bumped in a fender-bender. At some point later (in mixed company, I'm guessing), I loudly announced, "KAY GOT BOMBED!" (that is, drunk). For years this poor innocent lady was then known as "Kay-got-bombed."
I mention this because on Saturday, as I was giving Finn his morning milk on my lap, his overnight diaper leaked through onto my shorts. Getting up and seeing the spot, he said, "Dad-O peed!!" I protested that noooo Dad-O didn't pee, but my & Margot's laughter sealed the deal: Every time he's repeat his claim, we'd laugh, and now it's become established fact that, yep, Dad-O peed & had to change into the space monkey shorts.
It may take a while, but what goes around does, in fact, eventually come around.
Last night Henry really had me freaking out. The little guy went to sleep at 5:30 p.m., having eaten at four o'clock. I figured, like every night, he would wake up around 6:30 p.m., eat again (at least once!) and then hit the sack for the night around eight or nine.
Well, he stayed asleep until, get this, ONE THIRTY A.M.!!! That's eight hours, people!! And the only reason he roused at one thirty was because I was convinced he was either in a coma or so hungry that he was too weak to move...I just couldn't believe he would sleep that long in one stretch, so I fed him and then popped him back in the crib.
I'm not going to kid myself into thinking this is a trend, but wow. My only regret is that I was so freaked out I couldn't take advantage of that full eight hours and pack in a ton of sleep myself!
The verbal hijinks never stop here at Chez Nack. Here is our latest list of slang that's in common use with Finn:
- Shat Trick: Like the hockey "hat trick", we've learned to wait, wait, and then wait a little longer before changing Finn's (or Henry's) poopy dipe...inevitably just when you think he's done, there's more coming.
- No Pat No: Knives, scissors, or other sharp objects. Coined from Dr. Seuss's Hop On Pop, where the character Pat is advised not to sit on a cactus. When Finn sees us cutting up food, he says "No Pat no!"
- DPT: Shorthand for Finn's Dipetorium.
- Dipeteria: The name for Henry's changing table. Hey, we can't have two dipetoria!
- MoMo's/DipIt's: Pretzels dipped in chive/onion cream cheese. A Finny snack favorite introduced to us by our nanny, "Coco". Finn used to just say "more! more!" then he graduated to commanding us to "dip it!" (the pretzel that is) in more cheese before polishing it off.
- Dr. Dipechek: Dad-o doing a quick visual inspection of Finny's dipe to see if it needs triage.
- Choco-Boca: Anything chocolate + Finn's mouth. Could be chocolate ice cream, a piece of chocolate candy, or Mom-o's chocolate-flavored Luna bars. Finn gets very melodious and starts singing "choco-booooooca!" over and over when he knows he's in for a treat.
- Gooniecam: The handheld video monitor/receiver for Henry's room.
- No Mo' Ocho: Used when discussing exactly how many Ochos (like our Audi A8) there are (or aren't) in the universe.
- *SLAM!* ("Mo' Slam!!"): Dad-o and Finny roughhousing in Finn's room.
- *DUMP!* ("Mo' Dump!!"): Finn dumping any given item or items out of a container (crackers, blocks, bathwater).
- Adios!! (with a hand-waving flourish): What we say when we're leaving, or when someone is leaving us.
Okay, I know it's a totally invented milestone, but our littlest guy has officially done a "half century" in terms of days on earth. In recognition, here's a little gallery (HTML) of the two boys this past weekend. The bats are gifts from our baseball-loving pal Ginna. (Thanks again, Ginna!) The Cheerios holding them in place are functioning as chocks.
Recently Finn got a ringside seat to Henry's bath, and another day his little friend Esther Williams--er, Anja!--popped into the tub with him for some spontaneous bathing fun. Here's a micro gallery (HTML) of the aqueous stylings.
Oh my, I'm sad to report that our little Henry is losing his nice mop of hair. He's got a couple of bald patches on each side where his head rubs on the bed, and they are getting bigger and less hirsute by the hour. The same thing happened to Finn, and it was an awkward several months until his hair grew back and started looking normal. I was really hoping that he'd keep it and increase its ranks, but that doesn't seem to be in the cards. On the other hand, we can be sporting about it and start taking bets on what color his new hair will eventually be when it grows in.
I won't embarrass the poor lad by posting photographic evidence!
Yesterday, Finn and Henry got a little box of gifts from our friends Paco and Betty Podmore. Finn got a collection of small, plastic squirting animals for the bathtub: an elephant, a monkey, and a raccoon. Our nanny Carol was talking with Finn and asking him what he might want to name his raccoon. She was suggesting names like Joe, Mike, etc. when all of a sudden, Finn burst out "Duke!". So henceforth, he is "Duketheraccoon!". This marks the first time Finny has named one of his toys!
John and I speculate that "Duke" could actually be spelled "Dook", after the sound effects John makes when he is pretending to drink out of a cup or Coke can. He and Finn have conversations when John grabs a Coke out of the fridge, and Finn says "Dad-o dook dook!", John says "Yep, Dad-o dook dook." Then Finn says "Finny dook dook?" and John says "No, Coke's not for Finny. No dook dook." We also "dook dook" out of the garden hose when we're playing in the backyard.
Our self-proclaimed Big Guy doesn't have time to screw around using just one sippy cup at a time. (Here's a larger version.)
Henry is starting to develop in earnest, offering up some new non-cry squeaks & even favoring us with a few proto-smiles! Just as Finny had his "invisible shows," the G-Man is starting to stare with rapt attention. In this tiny gallery (HTML) you can see him contemplating (and spazzing out to!) one of those simple black-and-white picture books. Margot reports that he got mad today when she turned the page. Hey, don't mess with a man's literature!
It's an exciting day for Dad-o and Finny today. We finally got the bike trailer (a super nice gift from John's folks!) that we ordered from the bike shop! It's a Burley D'Lite ST, which will fit two kids and also converts to a stroller. So now we can pop both boys in for a stroll, or Finny for a ride to the park. Henry is too small for trailering: he has to be old enough for a helmet and unassisted sitting-up. Finn and Dad-o took it for a test ride to the park this morning, so here are some pics (HTML) as they set out from the casa. There are some really great parks in our neighborhood that are just far enough away that walking takes too long, and driving seems wasteful, but biking over is just the ticket.
In addition to converting to stroll-mode, the other nice thing about the trailer is that it has a pretty roomy cargo area behind the seat, so we can haul a picnic lunch, or sand toys/towels, or even a couple sacks of groceries. We're looking forward to logging lots of miles with the guys! Oh, and soon, in addition to the orange safety flag, the trailer will be flying a small jolly roger on top .
[Just for my dad's benefit, I think I'll add a bumper sticker that says "GOON IS MY CO-PILOT." --J.]
Our pal Eileen Whitson, better known around here as "MrsW," reported recently that she learned of her son Bryan's toe-breaking via Finn ("Hoot! Doh-Mahn! Crack! Bro-kun! Gato. Dumpling"). "I think getting the news from Finn," she says, "may be even hipper than getting the news from Jon Stewart." Hah--that's some high praise indeed!
Here's Finn talking excitedly of Mrs. W. coming to visit, followed by a version of his toe story (with an intermission for "Broken Ham"):
Henry had his one month checkup this week with Dr. S. He currently clocks in at 12 lbs 2 oz, 22 inches long, and has a head circumference of 40 cm. This puts him in the 90th, 75th, and 90th percentiles, respectively. His throat has healed up from the reflux thanks to Zantac, which he will continue to take. We have to up his dose of antibiotic for the kidney since he's getting bigger.
He has also started becoming much more alert and aware of his surroundings, which also translates into a lot more difficulty in getting him to fall asleep and stay asleep. The changes in his sleep patterns between last week and this week are marked. This week we've had a lot more fussing and sleep-fighting, and it takes a lot longer to get him really and truly asleep and have it stick for more than 10 minutes. That means he and I are spending exponentially more time in the rocking chair, and also exponentially more time awake in the middle of the night if he's not in the mood to continue sleeping. Yeesh. The last couple of nights have been rough, and it's hard to remember to be patient and empathetic when your baby is wailing at you from 1 a.m. to 4 a.m!
Yesterday Finn was sitting on my lap while we were recounting the day's events. I looked over at him to find his right index finger shoved as far up his nose as it would go. "Hey Finn, what're you doing with that finger up your nose?", I asked. Finn looked at me, then took his left index finger and shoved that into his other nostril. "Two!" he said gleefully.
Finn has lately taken a big shine to identifying pairs of things. For example, he'll point at one faucet, then another, and say "Two faucet!" Charmingly, on the way back from dropping off my folks at the airport, he volunteered, "Grampa Nack... Grampa LEE-gett... Two grampa!" And as noted at right, Finn thinks that he & Henry are both "(H)appy kid."
He's also started saying deliberately crazy things for the sake of getting a laugh. After he tried to orally decapitate an apple the other day, we told him not to eat the stem. "Eat the stem, eat the stem!!" he shouted, and we've made it a little game: "Should Hoot eat the stem?" "Nooo!" (big smile) "Should *Milos* eat the stem?" "Nooo!""
Even better, while sitting on the dipetorium the other day, he grabbed the little safety buckle and announced "Buckle poopy!" The buckle is, mind you, one of the few things that hasn't actually gotten poopy while up there (unlike Leo, Finn's hammer, his hands, etc...). I was kind of shocked. "Did the buckle get poopy?" I asked, genuinely curious. "Nooo!" he replied, breaking into a mischievous smile. As you'd guess, our lives now involve hearing many claims about innocent things getting poopy.
And on that note, hats off to our boy for officially discovering that adding the suffix "poopy" makes just about anything funnier. May this knowledge serve you well for years to come, son.
The Finnfatha & I had a ball visiting multiple parks multiple times with the Nack GP's. Look for photos soon; in the meantime, here's some quality three-generational swinging action:
As mentioned the other day, Finny took a real shine to Grandma's "Surprise Lap" routine, and we frequently hear him running around singing the little tune. Here's our pair in action:
Yes yes, we know: Not everyone (anyone?) besides Margot, Finn, & me is a fan of calling Henry "Goonie." My dad pointed this out on the way to the airport this morning.
"People will think he's... special," he opined.
"You know, Dad," I replied, "as far as that goes, we feel about the same as you do about memorizing wine details: we just don't care."
Moments later we pulled up at the curb behind a minivan full of scruffy characters, including a middle-aged guy sporting a tank top & a raft of tattoos.
"Oh, since you guys are early, Dad, you could hang out with that guy," I suggested. "Y'know, maybe get some ink done--get sleeved."
"Oh yeah," my dad shot back, "and you know what that guy's name is? Goonie."
Well played, sir; well played.
The gazebo has been getting a good workout, hosting my folks and their books plus various visits from Finn. Grandma Nack blew Finn's mind with her "Surprise Lap" routine, humming a jaunty little Irish lullaby, then "dropping" him at the end (as he yells "Dump!!"). Now we hear him waking up in his crib, singing & saying "GrammaNACK!" Here's a little gallery (HTML).
Off to grab a waking-up Finnster,
We're having a ball with my folks being in town--cruising in a wagon, swinging, riding the slide ("Kindasteep!") backwards & forwards, reading Mother Goose ("GeogiePogie!"), and more--and of course the Papa-razzo is snapping away. I haven't had much time to select photos to share, though, so in the meantime here's just a fun little sequence of Finny hamming it up:
(Here's a larger version.)
Courtesy of Merriam-Webster, The Word of the Day for August 5 is:
philoprogenitive \fill-uh-proh-JEN-uh-tiv\ adjective
*1 : tending to produce offspring : prolific
2 : of, relating to, or characterized by love of offspring
Correct on both counts!