This and That

Nathan has been using these words frequently, as of late, to let us know what he wants. Or what he wants to know about. He's also started pronouncing the "th" sound properly, as opposed to the "d" sound he started out with. This has given him more reason to try out "this" and "that". (Although, "dis" and "dat" are perfectly acceptable in most of South Central Louisiana)

For example, Nathan wanted me to play a CD for him recently. I asked him which one. He replied, "that one", and pointed to a stack. I popped one of the first in the stack into the player and pressed play. It wasn't long before Nathan was unhappy with the selection. "What do you want to hear?" I asked. To which he replied, "Want this one." After a few this and that attempts, we finally landed on one he liked. Ok, so actually, he didn't want that one either, but he got used to it after I explained, "You can either turn it off, or you can listen to this one." (Or, was it that one?)

Nathan also likes to know what things are and do. Lately, he'll ask "what's that?!" whenever he sees something new and out of reach. He also knows to say, "what's this?" when it's in his hand. He even copies my words and hand gestures, as when he recently walked into his room and found toys scattered across the floor. He threw his hands up in the air, palms up, and moved his head for emphasis saying, "What's all this mess?!"

Smooth As A Baby's Bottom

Nathan likes lotion. His mom has chronic dry skin, and regularly lubes up with a variety of fragrant lotions. Nathan likes to put lotion on himself like mommy does. That's fine most of the time. I even share my lip balm with him (Is that how I got sick?) But Sunday, Nathan climbed up to the diaper changing supplies in the boys' room and secured a different tube of "lotion", which he proceeded to apply to his face. Some say that diaper rash ointment actually helps with wrinkles, but I just don't really care for the smell of A&D on my son's face. I guess I should be glad he didn't think it was toothpaste.

Hand-Me-Downs

One of the cool things about having another boy, at the same time of year, is hand-me-downs! We've already been using all kind of clothes from Nathan's first year. We do realize that he needs some of his own things, so don't think he has nothing original.

One thing I learned this week is that sickness may become hand-me-down as well. Nathan caught something over the weekend somewhere and began his misery (and ours) on Monday night. I just knew I would get it, as his sniffling, sneezing, coughing, and snotting was all over me for three days. But I didn't!! Just as I felt we were clearing up and sleeping better, Evan started with the sniffling and fussing. He had a mild fever, as Nathan did at first, along with the red, puffy, watery eyes. That was Thursday and Friday. Thanks, Nathan, for the cold hand-me-down! Thankfully, I still had escaped, as had Laura!

Until Saturday - I woke up with the dreaded raw throat, and am now the most miserable Peckboy in the house. I guess mine would be a hand-me-UP!

Hickory Smoke

That's Nathan's favorite condiment. It started when he first tasted the Kraft barbeque sauce on a hamburger sometime last year. "What's that sauce?" he asked. "Barbeque sauce." "Bar-ba-koo sauce," he repeated. And, since then it's been his favorite. Don't get me wrong, he likes a little ranch dressing or red wine vinagrette on his salad - usually whatever I'm having. But when it comes to his top choice, it's bar-ba-koo sauce! Hamburger, broccoli, chicken... it reminds me of my brother and his ketchup when we were kids. (Actually, my brother still uses ketchup as a topping for most foods) Come to think of it, I'm told my dad used to put French or Thousand Island dressing on just about everything he ate growing up. I thought maybe his mother wasn't too good in the kitchen, but my brother sure didn't have an excuse like that. I always enjoyed our mother's cooking! That's one of many reasons I'm her favorite. (Hi mom!) I don't know why a perfectly cooked broccoli floret, sirloin steak, or sweet potato can seem so repulsive to a two-year old and suddenly have the appeal of an ice cream sundae once a little hickory smoke is drizzled over it. I just know it works when we need it to. And thank God (for now, anyway) that we don't need it every time!

Shots

I don't particularly care for shots. Never have. Aside from druggies, I guess most of us would prefer to go without. I remember those penicillin shots to be some of the more painful. "Don't tense up, or it'll hurt more," they said. "Just relax," they said. "This might sting a little," they'd say. NO KIDDING! I'm cool with them when I need them now. I don't complain at the dentist. I give blood pretty regularly. I even watch them insert that "Super-sized" straw they call a needle to draw the blood. No problem. But, holding one of my boys down while they administer their immunization shots is torture!! That horrified look on their face that says, "Father, why have you forsaken me!?" It's brutal.



Ok, so Evan didn't even know what hit him yesterday, and he only cried for a few minutes. But the whole pouty, quivering lower-lip coupled with the quiet whimper was really sad. Nathan was upset about it. Laura was upset about it. And so was I. But our little man endured and will prove the stronger for it.

He's in great health, by the way, and is now 23-1/4 inches long, and weighing in at 12-1/2 pounds. He's looking around, smiling at us and cooing a lot. Laura and I agree with Nathan's declaration - "I like him!"

Pet Names

We have a variety of "pet" names for our boys. We'll call them "monkey," "silly goose," "sweet boy," "handsome," "daddy's boy," "buddy," etc. Sometimes Nathan uses these pet names for us, too. He's even told me "Come see, Baby!" before, repeating his mommy. Just this past weekend, he was watching Evan gaze up at mommy from her lap, making baby faces and cooing. Nathan leaned over into Evan's face and said, "Hello, blue eyes!"

Penny for your Thoughts

The thoughts and imaginations of children are so cool! The following are some highlights (to me, anyway) of Nathan's thoughts...

A few nights ago, Nathan and I were wrestling on our (mine and Laura's) bed. Afterward, I was lying on my back and Nathan was resting on my chest when I asked him, "What are you thinking about?" I wasn't sure what kind of reply I might get, or even whether or not he understood the question. He looked blankly toward the wall for a moment, and then said, "Like a dog... dog swimming... swimming @ Paw-Paw Kelley's." He said all of this as though I should understand perfectly which, of course, I did! In fact I think of swimming like a dog at my dad's pool on a regular basis! (Thank God he's normal, like his daddy!)

Nathan regularly talks about our family members before going to sleep. Sometimes it's to pray for them, and other times he just wants to know where they are. Nathan: "Where's Grandma and Grandad?" Me: "At their house." Nathan: "Where's Uncle Brad and Aunt 'Neen?" Me: "At their house." Nathan: "Where's Granny, Paw-Paw Lew and Cappuccinno (their pooch)?" Me: "They're at their house." Brief pause. Nathan: "Paw-Paw and Nana (Peck) are at the swimming pool." (He knows where the pool is!)

Last night, we were getting ready to go to bed when I asked Laura, "What did they say (on the news) about the weather tonight?" Before she could reply, Nathan spoke up and said, "It's cold outside!"

Last month, Nathan and I helped my brother and his family move. He followed me into the bathroom and asked me to turn on a light over the shower. After I did so, he looked at it for a moment, laughed and said, "like a boob!" (Mommy needs to be more discreet when nursing Evan!!)

Counting in the Smoke

Nathan can count to ten. Sometimes he struggles, but he can get to five with no problem. I'm teaching him to count using his fingers, and sometimes he can't get them up in the "right" order. Recently, he was counting and went all the way to ten. I was very impressed, but for some reason I asked him if he could count backwards! He looked at me with a "huh?" stare for a second, then turned his back to me and started counting again! I love it!

Something else Nathan has discovered recently is "smoke". On New Year's Eve, I took him outside to see and hear the fireworks our neighbors were setting off. He had been asking about the "pop-pops", as he called them, and I didn't want him to be afraid of them. After some initial death-gripping of my shirt, he grew comfortable with the pops, and was enjoying the starry explosions overhead in the night sky. At one point, the wind shifted and the smoke from the fireworks drifted our way. Nathan wrinkled his nose, sniffed a few times, and asked, "Daddy, what's that smell?" I told him it was smoke from the fireworks, and he said, "Ewww, stinky smoke!" This in itself would be cute, but the story continues... Now, anytime he ventures near a recently inhabited bathroom, or a poopy little Evan (or Daddy after one of my custom burgers), he wrinkles that little nose and says, "Eeewwww - Stinky Smoke!" Indeed!

Rock-N-Whoah!

Nathan has a glider chair in his room. It was given to us by my grandmother. I refinished it in white and had new cushions made for it before he was born. Nathan recently began rocking/gliding himself in the chair. The problem is, it only "rocks" so far before it stops. Nathan was not satisfied with the limitations, so he would rock it until even the base of the glider was rocking back and forth. I first noticed this when I heard some loud knocking sounds coming from his room. I walked in to find him slamming the top of the chair back posts into the wall! I corrected him, and I moved the chair further out from the wall. Later that day, Nathan was playing in his room when I heard a loud, single knock followed by a moment of silence. Then I heard a slow, whining, "Daaaadeeeee!" I made my way to the scene of the crime with my camera, as I suspected what had happened...

What about Evan?

Well, for starters, he's not quite 2 months old yet, so most of Evan's adventures are summed up in eating (and since he's nursing there will be no pic's! - Laura thanks me.), sleeping, pooping, and an occasional bath. Maybe that is interesting to some of you, I know. I mean, he does look around too - oooohhh! And he's got loud gas (when he has it) from both ends - aaahhh. (By aahhh, I originally was being sarcastic about those who may find that interesting, but feel free to view that as a funny, ha-ha relief sound if you didn't already!) Evan is a wrestler, too. When awake, he likes to keep moving - legs, arms, head - constantly pushing, kicking, head butting. I hope he's learned not to head-butt my collar bone anymore (Oooowww!) for both our sakes.

He's really a pretty chill kid in the tub. He just lies there, making faces and (get ready for a laugh) soaking everything in (ha!). And making bubbles.

Not the cute little bubbles some babies make with their mouths. I mean the little stinkers that come up from below the surface. The kid seemingly has no end to the gas. Laura thinks we may need to cut out the spinach. By that, I mean the leafy stuff we like to include on our salads. (We're not directly feeding our 7 week old spinach, thanks.)

Evan farts like a man! Hey, I can say that F-word, it's my blog! If he lets one rip in his hammock or swing, we kind of look at each other in wonder. If his booty roars from one of our laps, the other still questions deep down whether he's being used as a scapegoat. (Even a goat could use him as a scapegoat!)

Now, while we're discussing gas and poop (Yes, this blog has gone down the toilet - or at least the diaper bin), I have a question. Why does a baby, whose entire diet consists of his mother's milk, poop mustard yellow poop - with little seeds?! This stuff is next to impossible to get out of clothing (Saran Wrap could make a killing in the diaper business!).

And, except for the much-understood expressions of strain under the afore-mentioned pressures of his life, Evan mostly has a sweet look of peace and wonder on his cute little face. His face, by the way is much less chunky than Nathan's was at this age. I didn't realize at the time, but Nathan was a fat baby! (Not that there's anything wrong with that!) Nathan was in the 70-90 percentile of the growth charts in his first year, with his head consistently about 20% higher than the rest of him. Evan has checked out at closer to 50% (average) across the board. But, don't rest too easy, my dear firstborn, for your younger sibling appears to be a fighter! Evan is already lifting his head up and trying to push up with his hands and arms when on his tummy!

Lord, give me the strength to father these youngsters in my old age! Though I do believe I have more wisdom to apply to fathering at this point in my life, my challenge may eventually prove to be that of physical stamina and survival with these boys. Not to mention that Laura, in obvious post-partum dementia, recently stated that she wouldn't be too upset if we got pregnant again within the next year (That's crazy talk!), and had mentioned to a friend she may want another one - another boy! Lord, thank you that you do not give us more than we can handle!

The Commentator

Nathan seems to have thoughts, ideas, and opinions on just about everything. He sometimes will even start talking or making various sounds while we're talking, as if to make sure he's included in the conversation. I'm serious! He's just commentating on anything and everything throughout the day, as if he's our life's play-by-play announcer. I would say that I have no idea why he does this, but since most of you reading this are friends and family, you're probably laughing out loud as you "put two and two together".

Some of his commentary is hilarious!

- Last week, Nathan wanted Laura to pick him up. She was not able to pick him up right away, and as he followed her in anticipation, he said, "You're too heavy!" (which is what we say to him quite often lately)

- Sometimes when Nathan gets into things he shouldn't, or is acting up, we'll say, "Son, what are you doing?", or "What are you thinking, boy?" He's adopted the "son" and "boy" as sort of defensive words - and uses them on us when he doesn't like or doesn't want something. For example, I scooped him up recently from playing on the floor to change his diaper, and he did not want to leave his activity! He began to cry out in protest, "No, no, noooo! BOYEEE! BOYEEE!" Another time, he spilled some water on the living room rug, and immediately pointed to the mess and exclaimed with great frustration in his voice, "Oh, SON! OH, SON! Look at that mess!" (I think we need to reserve "son", at least, for positive commentary on our part!)

- Yesterday, we were watching UL-Lafayette shut out Ole Miss in the NFL playoffs. (Jake Delhomme & the Panthers vs. Eli Manning & the not-so-Giants. Sorry, Lew!) All was quiet, and Nathan was playing on the floor when, all of a sudden, he stood up and watched the game for a moment. He waited for the ball to snap, and then began yelling excitedly at the TV, "Go go, get 'em, guys!!" What made it more hilarious, was the intense look on his face!

- Finally, as I write, there is a central air service technician performing bi-annual service and checks on our air system. He's been coming in and out of the house and attic for the past 45 minutes doing his various checks. Every time he comes back through the kitchen area, Nathan says, "There's that man! There he goes!"

Waking Up

My eldest, Nathan, sometimes wakes before me. When this happens, he usually feels responsible to rouse the sleeping giant that is his father. His path to this "great awakening" begins with a giddy approach to the bed, where he secures a grip on the comforter, sheet, or leg of dad, and hoists himself up onto the slab of sleep. One recent morning, the "leg of dad" was thinly covered, if at all, and the grip of said son on said leg slipped quickly (and painfully) into a fist of fatherly fur (OOOOWWWWW!!!). We were both wide awake at that moment. (It was a couple of days before he attempted to rouse me from my slumber again.)

Today, I was out! I had armed myself with earplugs, lest Evan, Nathan, the phone, or an early-rising noisy neighbor rouse me before my desired time. Enter: "the Tornado". His first attempt was the usual. I felt him before I heard him. Perhaps he was in stealth mode. Perhaps my ears were in stealth mode. He climbed up, crawled over to my face and placed his face close to mine, watching, waiting and grinning that "I'll getcha, Daddy!" grin of his. I slowly opened one eye to assess the situation without giving away the fact I was somewhat conscious. "Hee-hee-heeeee! Daaadddeee!!" (Busted!) I mumbled something close to "good morning, buddy" and drifted back to Dodo land (pronounced "dough-dough" - I got that from an old friend). I must have been really tired, as I don't remember him leaving. (Maybe he never did)

Later (whether seconds or minutes, I do not know), Nathan's cold hands grabbed my face and I quickly opened my eyes to find his grinning, giggling face hovering over mine. "Daaadeee", he said through the giggles, "time-a-get-up!" "No, no it's not, son," I moaned. "Daadeee," he sighed again, as he placed his head on my chest and hugged me tight. Then he changed all the settings on my alarm clock/radio and slammed the door on his way out. I drifted off again.

Finally, he returned to complete the task of raising the almost dead. He got on the bed without stirring me, and pressed his cold, wet nose to mine. My eyes still closed, I wondered briefly whose dog had invaded my room. Or what lotion, cream, or food product had my son put on his face? Was he licking me?! I opened my eyes to find his face and nose further than expected, though filled with laughter. My eyes crossed to the object pressing against my own nose - a grape! "Hee-hee-hee, wake up, Daddy!" he said, as he tried to force the grape into my mouth. "Ok, buddy, ok..." and we wrestled for a couple of minutes amid his squealing and giggles. Bring on the day!

Oh, Christmas Tree!

We waited until the Tuesday before Christmas to put up our tree, due to the "Tornado" (Nathan) watch in effect since early November. I know they call them, "terrible two's", but it's not really that the boy is being "terrible". He's just so curious and he's exploring his world with eager excitement. He wants to see how things work, feel their texture, and find out what happens if you throw them! Who of us doesn't have the same curiosity most of the time? I mean, David Letterman has made himself rich with some of the same curiosities on his "Late Show". Why is a grown man dropping large fruit off of a skyscraper on television hilarious, and a two year old pulling clothes out of the washer and slinging them around is infuriating? Perhaps it is the fact that I don't have to clean up after David Letterman.

Anyway, Nathan loved that tree! He liked the lights - so much he would twist the poor little bulbs right out of their sockets and then inform me, "those lights are broken, Daddy!" He really loved the glass ball decorations - and he discovered they don't bounce! And his favorite thing about the tree was the switch. I installed a "trunk-line" extension cord to the trunk of the tree, with outlets spaced along, to prevent plugging strands of lights into each other. It had a switch on it, to turn it off and on. I thought this would help prevent the "Tornado" from trying to plug the lights in and out of the wall outlet. It worked. We just had to remind ourselves a few times that we did not have a "blinking" mode on our lights, and rescue the switch from the "storm". All in all, it wasn't too bad. He learned after a few broken bulbs, balls, and spankings that the tree is to look at and not to play with. (Everything else we've given him with lights, shiny attachments, and switches are hands-on play things, so I understand the confusion.) He's learning each day that disobedience hurts.

Oh, and the tree came down (we took it down) two days after Christmas!

Welcome Back

To us, I guess! We've been busy with Christmas and New Year hustle and bustle, with family and friend visits abounding. Don't worry, we've kept notes on the interesting activities of the boys, so we can catch everyone up...

A few days before Christmas weekend, Nathan and I went to the park to play. We had to "cut it short", as we had a hair appointment nearby that afternoon. We got our hair cut at Al's, where I've gone for years - since before Laura and I were married. Al's a cool guy, and he loves kids. Nathan pronounces his name, "Mr. Owl". He gave Nathan his first haircut last summer, which was stressful! Nathan wasn't sure what was going on then, and was scared of the big man with the scissors! Since then, he's been at least once with me and has grown comfortable with the whole haircut idea. He watches me closely while I get mine done, and I think his desire to do everything "like daddy does" helped. He sat in the big chair, with the cape on, and sat nice and still, watching Al in the mirror as he trimmed him up. The free sucker afterward may have been an incentive, but I only remembered that when, after he was done, Nathan marched over to the sucker bowl and asked, "Can I please have that sucker, Daddy?" Hmmm... Perhaps he remembered those on the way in!? Recently, Nathan heard me joking with Laura about giving him a buzz cut. I didn't realize he was in on our conversation until he asked, "Go see 'Mr. Owl'?"

We left Al's with our cool cuts and went back to the park to play. Nathan has become very comfortable with climbing the steps and going down the various slides from the play area platform. He took off on one of them before I was ready for him, and zipped right off the end onto his back in the dirt. He got over the intial shock quickly, and got up laughing, saying, "Whoah! That's fast, daddy!" We found a small soccer ball someone had left near the fence and we kicked it around one of the ball fields for a while. Nathan wanted to take the ball back to the slides and roll in down. He climbed up to the tall spiral slide and rolled the ball down, laughing. I tossed it over the rail to him, and he did it again. The second toss back to him bounced behind him, down the steps leading up to the tall slide. He would have been fine, but his foot stepped off the step before his hand grabbed the siderail, and he tumbled head first down a few steps. I flew up on the platform and scooped him up, as he gasped for air and cried real hard. I felt horrible for my poor throw of the ball. I held his head to my shoulder, assuring him it was ok, while making sure it was. He started to push away, wanting down to go get the ball and get back to playing. I noticed blood and snot on his cheek and ear, so I cleaned it off and checked his nose and ear. Nothing to indicate a cut or other source of blood there, but then I saw the lip.





There was a pretty bad cut just inside his upper-left lip, but the teeth seemed ok, and the lip wasn't swollen too bad. I was glad there was only a little blood, too. Shortly thereafter, we headed home, where I discovered the blood all over my shoulder (where Nathan's head had been after the fall). I also discovered that freshly cut lips swell up like marbles during car rides home from the scene of the accident! OUCH!