musings of Mother Hood

This too shall pass.

I don't remember being two years old. I don't remember the frustration or the disappointment that comes with being no longer a baby but not yet a big kid.

It's really no wonder two year olds seem to have such a short fuse or a finicky attitude sometimes - what with all the new sounds and words and people and experiences coming straight at their heads nonstop. Not really able to communicate or articulate what they need or want - or don't want. Frustrated that we crazy grownups just don't seem to understand.

Think about how much adults welcome change or anything out of the ordinary. Now remove several layers of maturity and 16+ years of learned patience and self control. Yeah. Two year olds.

Sometimes I'm glad I don't remember being two. But lately I wish I did. Lately, I would do almost anything to get inside his head and really, really understand.

My kid bites.

And I wish I knew why.

We have theories. Lots of them. He was a late talker so he's found a different way to communicate... He doesn't fuss or cry or have fits very often, but has to get his feelings out somehow... He just kinda likes to be left alone sometimes and the other kids don't always get that message... He gets a lot of attention at home and craves that kind of attention at school...

Who knows? The fact is - he bites. And we've tried everything we can think of to try. We've been told it's perfectly normal toddler behavior. We've been told it's a phase. We've been told it's usually a two-sided issue, meaning there's a two year old on either side of that bite -- and sometimes Colt's "normal two year old behavior" was provoked by other "normal two year old behavior".

We talk to him about it till we're blue in the face. About why we don't bite our friends and what we should say or do if someone takes our toys. And that biting hurts.

But let me explain something. Biting does hurt. And while one kid goes home with a mark that will be gone by tomorrow, my kid comes home with an unfair stigma to share with his heartbroken parents.

The whole situation is just as hard on us as it is on the other parents. Maybe worse. It is painful to know that my child is being perceived as anything less than the sweet, kind, curious, playful little boy that he is. Every time I have to sign an incident report when I pick him up from school I think about two things: I wonder what happened, what he may or may not have tried to communicate before he resorted to biting. And I think about what the other parents are thinking. I wonder if they are understanding. And patient. And compassionate. After all, they have a two year old, too, right? I try to put myself in their shoes. I try to imagine what I would feel like if the tables were turned. I like to think I would be that understanding, patient, compassionate parent I am so desperately hoping they are.

But I have no idea. I don't know what it's like to sign the other half of that incident report and stare at a bruise on my baby's arm. I don't know what it's like to hear my child come home with stories of who bit him and why. I only know what it's like on this side. The side of the biter.

And it probably sounds cliché. Why WOULDN'T I stick up for my own kid? Of COURSE I think it's hard on this side of the coin. Naturally, I'm going to get all 'Mama Bear' on everyone involved.

But I'm not condoning biting. I don't care how "normal" it is - it's universally... unpleasant. And I'm certainly not encouraging it. We want him to stop as much as anybody. More.

I don't think about it in the same terms laid out in the handbook. There's no "child who bit" or "child who was bitten". They are children. And one of them is mine.

I'm not defending a bully, and I'm not sidestepping responsibility. There are truly two sides to everything --  and both "sides" of this ugly situation happen to be precious to someone. I'm not sticking up for my kid, the biter. I'm sticking up for my kid, the kid.

This Christmas

"We still do both," I answered in the weeks leading up to Christmas when asked about our plans.

I would usually get a scrunched face and a knowing, sympathetic look. Evidently, it's the thing to do now to swap holidays with your different families to cut down on travel time and such. You know, visit Dad's family for Thanksgiving and Mom's family at Christmas -- then switch for next year.

Apparently, we're old school. We do both.

A perfect storm of circumstances got us into this predicament and, honestly, I don't think we mind. All the Hoods only get together once a year, so we want in on that. And the Martins all have ONE little boy to spoil!

So! Two Christmases!

But first, there was the pre-party. I sent a camera to school with Colt in hopes of capturing a few gems from his class Christmas party. Mission: Accomplished.

Please notice that the frosting is being enjoyed as a mess only. Very little of it made it into his mouth. That's my boy!

 

I would have been there myself if not for this pesky conscience of mine that kept me and my flu-like germs at home. We'll be there next year, Buddy.

Stupid flu also derailed my plans to procrastinate all holiday shopping and baking till the weekend before Christmas. Yeah. That didn't work AT ALL. We didn't get to our gingerbread house, but I have half a mind to do it this week anyway. Stupid flu.

While I was procrastinating, Santa's elf (a.k.a. Grandpa Martin) was hard at work. I loved getting 
periodic photos with Grandpa's progress in the workshop. You'll see pictures in a minute, but my Dad built a Lego table for Colt that is perfect perfect perfect. He's played on it every day since we got home.

In fact, he's been in overdrive. I think he opened more presents at Christmas this year than the number of toys we previously had in our entire house. But I'm pretty sure we got through the entire week without opening a single toy that requires batteries! God love Hot Wheels and Legos. (Aunt Sarah: I WILL find a way to repay you for giving my two year old cymbals and maracas!)

Ok - one last thing before we get to the deluge of Christmas pictures. This is too good not to share. We usually play games at both the Hoods' and the Martins', but the Martins tend to be more... animated. The game is Rigamarole. And it's kind of a combo of Charades, Pictionary, and Taboo. The teams were Grandma/Grandpa, Laura/Leo, Becky/Sarah. Colt and Jeff cheered us on.

Martin Family - Rigamarole. Christmas 2010 from Sarah Hood on Vimeo.

So! Two Christmases! Puzzles and cars, lots of football and lots of cousins at the Hoods'. Legos, Bass Pro, and new family members to introduce to the Razorbacks at the Martins'.

Christmas 2010 from Sarah Hood on Vimeo.

If you're viewing this post via email or a reader, please click on through to enjoy the videos.

Class of 2027

Dear Colt,

Your Paw and I attended a Parent/Teacher Conference last week. Surprisingly, it wasn't our first one and you're only two. They gave us a few samples of your artwork and let us know how you're doing in class. Your teacher told us that you love to play with the trucks and Legos, and that your favorite area of the room is the Dramatic Center where you have mastered the art of cooking fake pizza and chicken legs while wearing a funny hat.

She told us that you are "the busiest kid in the class", which just made us look at each other and smile knowingly. You sometimes have trouble settling down for naptime, for fear you might miss something exciting. And you are always there when a job needs doing - cleaning up toys, pushing in chairs, greeting other kids as they arrive in the morning.

Her biggest concern is that you are having trouble listening. Hearing? No problems. But listening, well, we're working on it. Every day your class practices walking on a rope. The goal is to be able to take walks while everyone hangs on to the rope so the whole class stays together. I wish they would record this as all that comes to mind for me is what I assume is the most absolutely appropriate use of the term "herding cats". We get notes a few times a week -- "Colt had trouble staying on the rope today. We're working on it."

Buddy, I know plenty of adults who have trouble "staying on the rope". Don't worry about it. You'll get there.

We're so, so proud of you and more in love with your little personality every single day. On the rope or not, you're our boy.

Love Mama

***

School pictures. Oh wretched torture. You have to dress in semi-uncomfortable clothes and try to keep them semi-clean until your class is scheduled to get in line and march down the hall to the cafeteria/library-turned-studio containing a colorful variety of backdrops and/or props that when combined with the "totally in" haircut you are inevitably sporting will create the masterpiece of dated awkwardness endeared as School Pictures. And it's all yours for somewhere around $65.

When I was a kid, we had a school picture tradition. When the pictures finally came in we would bring our prized envelope home from school and present it to Mom. Let the festivities begin.

Usually starting with Tom, Mom would take our respective frames down from where they hung in a row down the hallway. And we would have a living slideshow. She kept each of our school photos in those frames and each year the newest one went in the front -- but all the ghosts of school pictures past were right there, in order, dating back to preschool.

As Mom turned over each picture, we would laugh at bad haircuts and favorite shirts. And make comments about who changed the most this year or that year. But then they'd all get folded back in to the frame, waiting for next year's slideshow.

If you go to my parents' house right now. There they'll be. Lined up in the hallway - Tom, Sarah, Laura, Becky from left to right. I wish I had them scanned so I could share. They're that good.

So I thought I'd start the tradition with Colt. Poor guy isn't even old enough to have a "grade" yet - not even preschool! - but he's already been subject to school pictures TWICE. His school picture slideshow is off to a roaring start.

  

***

Dear 16 year old Colt,

Sorry Buddy. But honestly, shouldn't you be used to this by now?

Love Mama

Toddler Truancy

We have a love-hate relationship with the rules at daycare.

Jeff and I are both, generally, rule-followers. And we chose our daycare after careful consideration of the facilities, the atmosphere, and the policies. So we knew going in. We knew about the inclement weather policy and the biting policy and the rules about fever and the hours of operation and the vacation schedule. All of it. It all sounded perfectly reasonable when we were looking for daycares last summer and we eagerly signed on the dotted line.

And 99% of the time it's smooth sailing. Colt doesn't really get sick that often and their hours of operation and vacation days more or less line up with ours.  And the inclement weather policy typically affects the whole darn town on the same days, so it's not really an issue.

But today. Today was one of the days that the rules were working against us.

If I knew then what I know now, I would still have signed all that paperwork last August, but I would have included a disclaimer: I agree to come pick up my child from school if he runs a fever over 101 degrees BUT I reserve the right to bring him STRAIGHT BACK as soon as his Ferris Bueller act wears off.

The fever thing.

Oy.

I got a call this morning that he had a fever of 101.4 and was acting "a little clingy" - which, to be fair, is pretty unusual. So home he went. Then to the doctor we went. Then back home - conspicuously bypassing the pharmacy. I'd say 4 of our last 5 doctor's visits ended this way. Nothing wrong with him. Ears are perfect. No wheezing. He has a cough? Ok, do a couple puffs of Albuterol a few times a day for the next few days - but no biggie. And try some Zyrtec at night for the runny nose. But he's PERFECTLY FINE. And! No sign of fever! And, let me tell you!, his energy level isn't suffering!

Truth be told, we had a good run. I think it's been since March or April. I feel like we should have one of those signs you see in warehouses and workplaces -- keeping count of the days since the last incident. 

This child has attended 87 days of daycare without running a freakishly temporary and completely harmless fever. The previous record was too pathetic to even mention.

Yeah, for a while there during the winter we were lucky to get in a full week of school! And - those of you with kids know that if he gets sent home with a fever, he has to stay out for a full 24 hours. Which means my man Ferris will be home again tomorrow. Such a stressful life he leads. 

Where the Boys Are

Colt's birthday fell on Father's Day weekend again this year - as I suspect it will most years. Which is FINE with me. It makes for a fun weekend filled with my favorite boys.

On a whim, I sent a camera to school with Colt on Friday in case they did any fun birthday stuff. I honestly thought his teachers might humor me and take a picture or two and that'd be it. Wrong! They took several photos and even a short video! - and they are priceless. While they don't really do birthday parties for the kids in his class, they sure do have fun -- I got pictures of snack time and art time and inside and outside and just chilling with his friends. I should send the camera with him more often!

  

  

  

  

 

 

 

  

We are so lucky to have found a school he really loves and that we know takes such good care of him during the day. I loved this little glimpse into his school day. (And - though I didn't post them - there were many, MANY "outtakes" on the camera when I got it back. And as I looked through them I was comforted by the fact that I'm not the only one who has trouble chasing this kid for a smile at the camera!)

Friday night, we ran a few errands and stopped for birthday supper.

 

And we took our traditional birthday family photo in the backyard.

And played and played till bedtime.

 

 

 

 

Happy, happy birthday to our munchkin.

Saturday, we had big plans that required me to spend most of last week searching all over creation for a pint-sized life jacket, but Little Guy woke up feeling crummy and Jeff wasn't feeling well either - so we decided to save our intended birthday/Father's Day outing for another weekend. And we spent Saturday in the house. Colt ran a bit of a fever most of the day and wanted nothing more than to feel sorry for himself while sitting in my lap. Who am I to argue with that? Looking back, Saturday was much needed down time for all of us. It was a nice, quiet day.

Sunday was Father's Day! And (after the boys watched the slow, painful death of the US Open) it was time for Colt to help Paw break out the new mower.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You could say it was a hit.

And then it was time to make Father's Day phone calls before bedtime. Here are the boys wishing Pop a Happy (Grand)Father's Day.

 

What a weekend! I love that Spring is "family" season at our house - Mother's Day, Father's Day, and Colt's birthday are all right here together. I more or less consider them all the same holiday and it means a lot to me that we spend them together as a family. I know that Colt doesn't really KNOW that it was his birthday this weekend, but I hope he knows that he's loved.

Let's Try This Again

By this time last week, I'd already been vomited on. More than once. And the week didn't improve much from there.

First, you should probably understand that Winter Weather in Northwest Arkansas takes on a life of its own. One minute the Weatherman is predicting a chance of winter precipitation and the next thing you know we're expecting 2-4" and schools are closed 24 hours in advance of the first flurry. It gets out of hand really fast. 

And we'd all been off our school/daycare normalcy for two solid weeks and I was enthusiastically looking forward to getting back to, you know, normal.

So last week. *sigh*

Sunday. 

• Weather forecast not looking good, but I was optimistic.
• Colt woke up early from his nap so we went for a drive. As we walked back in our house, Colt staggered toward me, wrapped his arms around my neck - and threw up his afternoon snack on my shoulder.
• Poor guy. He settled down, I cleaned us up, and I gave him some water.
• The rest of the evening was more of the same. The poor kid couldn't even keep water down. 
• Colt finally fell asleep, and we were hoping he would feel better by morning.
• By the 10 o'clock news they were already posting school closings for Monday morning. And sure enough - Fayetteville Schools were closed. This meant that daycare was also likely closed, so I made plans to take my Cabin Fever Vaccination and stay home Monday with the little guy.

Monday.

• High - 21. Low - 8.
• Got up at 2am with Colt. He gulped down an entire cup of Pedialyte then pointed back to his bed. No pleasantries, woman. It's the middle of the night! Back to bed he went and slept until morning.
• Woke up to discover that the University was closed so Jeff had the day off. 
• But upon calling to confirm daycare was closed, we found out they were open at 10! So we got the little guy out of bed to see how he felt.
• He ate his Cheerios like a champ and had no fever, so we made plans to take him to school.
• Had an appointment to get an MRI (long story, separate post) at 10:30.
• Came out of MRI in time to get a call from daycare that Colt was running a fever and we would need to come pick him up. Geez. He'd been there for ONE. HOUR.
• So Doctor's Office #2 for the day. Turns out, there's nothing they can do. Just a stomach bug. But since he had a fever, he can't go back to daycare for 24 hours. So I started gearing myself up to stay home. Again.

Tuesday.

• High - 23. Low - 6.
• More cold. More winter weather. All schools closed again. Colt and I stayed inside with Barney and Fireman Sam, and did not change out of our sweats.
• Had big plans to take a nap when Colt went down at 1:00 so I took a nice long shower and cozied up under the electric blanket.
• ...turns out the stomach bug was contagious.
• Spent Colt's entire naptime running back and forth to the bathroom.
• Made promise to myself that Wednesday. Wednesday would be normal.

Wednesday.

• High - 36. Low - 15.
• Felt like crap upon rolling out of bed in the morning, but vowed to get to work by lunch.
• Colt had his 18 month well-child checkup at 11, but he went to school all morning.
• You know how the checkup went... And the subsequent events...
• I WENT TO MY OFFICE THAT AFTERNOON. Felt like crap. But I was there!
• Held my breath for school closings.

Thursday.

• High - 26. Low - 6.
• Schools closed - AGAIN. Daycare closed - AGAIN.
• Attended Doctor's Appointment #4 for the week to get results from Monday's MRI. Waited 45 minutes for a 4 minute appointment. Figures.
• Drove home on DRY roads while silently cursing whoever cancelled every school between here and Kansas because it was COLD OUTSIDE.

Friday.

• High - 12. Low - 1.
• Could it be? Fayetteville Schools are open! Daycare is open! I get to go to work!
• Looking forward to a normal day. And a Friday, to boot.
• Walked to my car at 1:45 to drive to a 2:00 meeting at P&G. Car is dead.
• After Jeff came to jump me, I drove home shivering with no radio/heater/headlights so as not to use additional battery juice. Held my breath the entire way as the lights on the dash flickered. Mentally prepared myself to steer my dead car off the road should it give out mid-trip.

Saturday.

• High - 21. Low - 3.
• Stuck in the house again, but did make a trip to the Honda dealer for a new car battery.

So if you've been paying attention, that makes 1 stomach virus, 4 trips to various doctors, 1.5 days of work for me, around 2 cumulative days of daycare for Colt, 1 dead car battery, and an average temperature of about 7.

Crossing my fingers for a "normal" week. We need it.

So - from the top!

18(ish) Months

I honestly don't know where the time is going. First of all, I'm sitting down to write Colt's 18 month update. And secondly, he's actually almost 19 months old. Somebody get this lady a calendar.

My tardiness in bringing you Master Colt's 18 month entry is easily blamed on the people who schedule appointments at his Pediatrician's office. Our first several well-child checkups with them were within a day or two of whatever milestone required a visit, i.e. birth, 3 months old, 6 months old, etc. And for some silly reason like "the holidays", his 18 month mark (December 18th) came and went and his appointment was actually today. Meh. Close enough.

They did all the usual stuff, and his height (32.6 inches - 50th percentile) and weight (24 pounds - 25th percentile) stats reinforced for the umpteenth time that the Hood is strong with this one. Tall. Thin. Some people have all the luck.

We answered all the developmental questions which - for some reason - make me chuckle. It might be because we just don't know that many other babies. So we don't know what he does that's "normal" and what he does that's completely weird. Does your child like climbing on things? Does your child ever use his index finger to point, to ask for something? Or to indicate interest in something?

Colt passed with flying colors on everything except talking. Still no real talking. But he's become much more responsive even in the last few weeks, meaning he listens when I tell him we SIT on the couch - not jump/stand/run or when I ask him to bring me something or pick up his milk cup. I don't think talking is too far away. And he's become a master pointer. His little index finger can indicate anything from "more Cheerios, please" to "turn out the light, I'm ready to go night-night".

 

He's also started to connect some dots that have really impressed me. He knows that when he's done with his drink cup it goes back in the fridge - and he'll put it there. Before he could really understand what was going on, we would carry him from room to room when we needed to change his diaper or feed him supper or brush his teeth. But now we talk about what we're doing and he usually leads the way. This has been really impressive in the diaper arena. Just this week he's started being aware of dirty diapers. As soon as he has a dirty diaper, he points to it and then heads to his room, knowing he needs to be changed. I know this is such a baby step as far as potty training, but I've decided to take it as a good sign, nonetheless.

Our little guy is developing a sense of humor, which cracks me up. He is pretty ticklish and thinks everyone else is, too. He's a little rough (more pinching than actual tickling), but tickles our bellies when we're sitting on the couch or sneaks up behind me when I'm washing dishes and tickles my toes or my sides. He thinks it's HILARIOUS. He also tries to "trick" me sometimes with his shape-sorting game. The star shape is slightly smaller than the circle shape so it fits into the round hole (intended for the circle). He knows which shapes go where as he has taken them in and out about 700 times, but he just loves to put the star in the round hole, then look up at me and laugh and laugh. You got me!

He has also started doing this little smirk that is eerily reminiscent of one Mr. Tom Martin. Always up to something!

 

Another favorite joke is hiding. You all remember the cabinet. Well, he's recently discovered that he fits inside the cabinet! Funny, right!? Actually - yes.

The *thud* of the door closing gets me every time.

At his checkup today, he had to get a few shots. In the past, shots have been a very small deal. He always cried a little, but was over it within minutes. Not today. Today he was old enough to hate us for making him get shots. And he made the most of it. In all fairness, his mother made his appointment at lunch time, second only to naptime as the worst time of day to disrupt the schedule of a toddler and subject him to things like SHOTS. Oh man. So we got through the measurements and the developmental questions and the ear-inspecting and the heart-listening, and it was really pushing lunch time. Then came the icing on the cake. And I was the lucky one who got to hold his arms to his chest so he didn't flail around and make it worse. So I'm as guilty as anyone. And he didn't let me forget it. We drove home to feed him a quick lunch so he could make it back to daycare in time for a nap, and he SOBBED the entire way home - pointing to Jeff's car ahead of us on the road. After all, Daddy hadn't held him down while those mean strangers jabbed him in the legs with needles. When we got home, he flat out REFUSED to eat. (Reminder: This kid LOVES to eat.) Jeff had stopped to grab us some lunch, so he wasn't home yet and Colt was all alone with The Mean Lady Who Let Those People Give Him Shots. He alternated between glaring at me and throwing himself on the floor at the door he knew Jeff would be coming through when he came home. He continued the hunger strike until it was time to go back to school, so Jeff delivered an angry, hungry, late-for-his-nap toddler back to his unsuspecting teachers at daycare. Poor little guy.

When I picked him up this afternoon, they let me know that he didn't get much of a nap but had a surprisingly good afternoon. When we got home, it was obvious he hadn't yet found it in his heart to forgive me and we had an encore of the earlier loveliness during which I got desperate enough to indulge his new obsession - the coffeemaker. (By the way Dad, you've created a monster. He points emphatically at the coffeemaker about a hundred times a day.) So I gave in and let him make a cup of coffee. Only then did he agree to eat his supper. Though there was NO WAY he was eating it in his normal highchair. He would only sit in his booster seat - which usually stays in the car for use in restaurants with piss-poor highchairs. Only after I dragged a dining room chair into the den and put on some dinner entertainment (Barney) did he agree to eat a handful of green beans and a few slices of turkey.

 

So it's particularly after days like this that I wonder to myself, hmm, I sure know a lot of people with kids 2 or 3 years apart.  What is it about children this age that makes people want to have more? 

But then there's this. This might have something to do with it.

***

Guess what time it is! (All together now) New Photo Album Time! That's right, Colt Fans, it's time to tie up loose ends in the Colt - 12 to 18 Months album and break ground on the, you guessed it, Colt - 18 to 24 Months album. All past photos are compiled in albums and listed along the right hand side of this page. Some of them go back to the Dark Ages - or our wedding, whatever. But there they are.

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If you'd like to receive updates from Mother Hood in your inbox, it's as easy as a click or two RIGHT HERE. No spam or weirdness, just a convenient email reminder when there are updates on the blog.

***

Last thing, then I promise I'll stop. I discovered some videos I hadn't posted so I threw them up on our YouTube channel. Be sure and check them out, RIGHT HERE. 

16 going on 17

The Boy will be 17 months old tomorrow and I thought it was high time for a Colt Update. I have let life and work and other whatnot get in the way of my blogging lately, but the little guy has been having a great few weeks. 

He continues to have an enviable amount of energy - running everywhere he goes and climbing everything from the couch to stairs to playground equipment. He loves music, whether it's the radio, clapping along to Mongo and endless rounds of "If You're Happy and You Know It", or just my singing. And his dancing might be the cutest thing I've ever seen.

A few weekends ago, we had company for the weekend and we decided to let out some of his energy during the Pep Rally at the mall before the South Carolina game.

 

We introduced the little guy to Big Red and taught him to call the Hogs, but - as you can see in the photo - he spent a lot of time running up and down the mall. LOTS of open space at the mall. Valerie and Louis drove down from Illinois again this year - and brought their kiddos to the game. They had a blast at the pep rally and the game, and Debra met us after the game on Saturday, too. Debra even volunteered to stay with all three kids (Val and Lou's two, Molly and Will, plus Colt) while the four of us went out for an honest-to-goodness double date Saturday night. We had a great time. And Debra - you're a saint!

At home, we keep things in a pretty regular routine which seems to work well. Colt knows when it's time to eat, when it's time to take a shower, when it's time to get his jammies on, brush his teeth, and head for bed. Weekends are a little different, but we stay in the general routine and he knows just what to do. The routine backfires sometimes - when we have to do something different or out of order. He looks around, a little nervous that he might be going to the doctor or that one of us is leaving! Poor guy. But the routine has allowed him to get comfortable "helping" with things like getting dressed and undressed, brushing his teeth, putting on his shoes and getting in and out of the car. Here he is "helping" me dump crackers on the floor...

 

Sleeping has been great - in bed around 7:30, up at 6 for a bottle and back to bed until 7. We can't seem to get him to sleep past 6 - but he does go back to sleep for a bit and has been known to sleep past 8:30 on weekends! He is his Mama's child!

We did have one little incident this weekend that interrupted our fabulous sleeping schedule and threatened the sanity of everyone in the house... Saturday night we went to Outback for dinner and he ate some dinner before we left the house, so he was kinda snacking on bread and veggies at the table with us. I had broccoli with my chicken and thought he might like some. He LOVED it. He gobbled up MOST of the broccoli on my plate and I thought nothing of it. Until about 3am. When I awoke to my poor, pitiful, gassy baby and his screaming, crying belly-ache. OH. MY. GOSH. I take it back! I am so sorry I fed you hideous, horrible, butter-soaked broccoli! I promise to never ever do that again! Nothing is worth that. I felt so terrible for the little guy - he just couldn't get comfortable. I fed him practically an entire bottle of Mylicon, patted his back, rubbed his tummy, and sang lullabies until I was annoying MYSELF. He had himself so worked up and the crying seemed to make it worse... so around 5am we decided to just let him play, let him be, and see if he would calm down. It finally worked. He plopped himself down in the corner of our bedroom with the stereo and decided to play the "How Many CDs Will Fit In The CD Player?" Game. He settled down, seemed to feel better, drank some milk and went back to bed. Around 6am. Stupid, stupid broccoli.

 

This week we attended our first Parent-Teacher Conference. For our 1 year old. I thought it was about 80/20 adorable/unnecessary, but it was good to talk with his teacher and hear some stories about things he's been doing at school. She walked us through 6 areas of child development: self-concept, emotional, social, language, physical and cognitive. He's doing really well, and though Ms. Julie gave us a few examples of words he's (allegedly) said at school - we know he's a little behind the curve in his language. We've actually never heard him say any discernible words at home, but he's been babbling a lot more clearly - if that makes sense - and pointing/waving/gesturing with a vengeance. He waves at EVERYONE we see. And when I put veggies and crackers on his tray during supper he directs me with his finger as to where he wants them. 

Ms. Julie also told us he has classic toddler tendencies to hoard (which I gather is a polite word for "steal") toys and not interact a whole lot with the other kids when he plays. We were only half joking when we explained to her that his quiet nature and lack of social interaction are probably genetic... he's a Hood. He comes by it honestly!

Oh! And I got his school pictures back last week! Jeff tells me I'm a sucker for buying these and I probably am - hell, we have so few pictures of him... And worse, I couldn't decide! They gave me five proofs, which was a bad idea. So I ordered two. One set of the generic background and one set of the cheesy, fall background that screams School Picture Day! 

 

I think they are beyond adorable. AND! Ms. Julie tells me that they do a class picture in the spring. I can hardly stand it!

If you recall, we had some challenges with our fall pictures this year. Nancy to the rescue! She brought her daughter Abby to help wrangle The Boy, and everyone agreed that he's a tricky little guy to photograph! We snapped a few good ones and I am still trying to pick a photo for our Christmas card so I won't post them all, but here's a sneak peek.

That should catch you up on all things Colt. I leave in a few days and I'll be gone through the holiday so keep my little family in your thoughts as we'll be apart for the longest we've ever been. Happy 17 months, Buddy!

Ketchup

The Hogs played in Little Rock over Labor Day weekend, so we didn't make it to the game. But Colt was pretty pumped about the first Game Day of the season. As you can see, he has remote-in-hand. He's ready!

The couch is a new favorite destination. He can climb up there by himself, if he is appropriately motivated, and can get down without face-planting, which is always a plus. He doesn't really care for the No-Standing-On-The-Couch Rule, but we're making progress.

No tickets to the game.  No babysitter, so no going to the nearest sports bar to watch the game -- so we decided to do the next logical thing. Branson.

We loaded up and joined 17 bajillion other people at the Outlets in Branson. And it was great. We left at naptime so Colt slept all the way there. 

He didn't get a fabulous nap because of the impossibly windy road between here and Branson - and also because of the TWO suicidal squirrels we met on our way there. (It was horrible. But it was us or the squirrels...) And he woke up to a camera-happy Mama in the backseat.

 

 

We got to Branson and discovered it was a wee bit crowded, so Jeff had to park the car next to a sign that read "DANGER FALLING ROCKS". Seriously. We were desperate.

The car was still there when we came back. No rocks to speak of. And we found some great deals on clothes and such -- even found a Halloween costume for the little guy. By the time we left for home, it was almost bedtime for Colt, so he slept the whole way home, had a pit stop when we got home to pull off his shoes and shorts, and into bed he went. He didn't miss a beat. Colt spent the whole trip strapped in to either a car seat or a stroller and he was in the best mood! We really couldn't believe how good he was. I guess he appreciates good people-watching as much as the next guy.

We watched an unhealthy amount of football the rest of the weekend, hung out with the crowd at Keith and Don's for a barbecue, and thoroughly enjoyed our bonus 24 hours of weekend. Ahhh. 

And then. The Funk.

Yes, funk. I got it first. (Well, kinda. Colt's had a runny nose since he started the new daycare, but we assumed it was kinda par for the course.) I had to do a lot of running around for work last week and I was in 4 different Walmarts a total of 6 times in 24 hours. And I woke up the next day feeling seriously crappy. Coincidence? So I spared my team and kept my crud at home. I went to the doctor and spent most of the day and night asleep. Bad, restless sleep. I have had a headache ever since. I just can't seem to shake it. Bleh. 

So Friday, Colt was sent home from daycare with a fever. So off we went to the doctor. Turns out, this kid had a double ear infection, fever, sore throat, and wheezing in his chest -- and I WISH I felt as good as he does. Once his fever came down (which took about 30 minutes - tops), he was back to whirlwinding around the house. You would never know he was sick. Back to school he goes.

Jeff even went to the doctor which, as some of you may know, NEVER happens. He finally admitted that he's had a sore throat for TWO WEEKS. 

So yeah. Serious funk in the Hood household this week. Everyone is much better after the weekend - looking forward to a better week. I will not miss spending over three hours of my life in various lines for doctors and pharmacists last week. Gah.

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Our friends Angela and Nicholas are getting married in October and were in town for a couple's shower this weekend. Aunt Becky came and stayed at the house with Colt while we went to Emelia's on Dickson Street and toasted the happy couple. 

We thought this pose of the four of us was very "Junior Prom". Aren't we cheesy?

And I'm not sure what happened to the lighting in that last one, but it's a pic of all the girls that were still at the shower by the time we started taking group pictures. I think a few may have left before we got our act together, but this is almost everyone. Natalie, Ashley, Katie, Sarah, Erin, Maureen, Clare, Brianne, Jessica, and Angela. Congratulations Angela and Nicholas!

A grip. Get one.

This week has been, well, a long one. I won't bore you with excuses for my lag in posting. I won't even bore you with the details of my "long" week, because I'm certainly aware that everyone is busy and everyone is tired and everyone has "stuff" going on. 

But! This week I decided enough is enough. Alright already. My life is busy. But I need to get it together.

So I bought some school supplies. Duh. Isn't that everyone does when they need to feel In Control of things? Whatever - you people are the weird ones. Some people take time off, read a book and relax. I color code. I buy new pens. I buy notebooks and organizers and cute pads of paper. 

This week, I decided that the start of a new month and the nagging and increasing feelings of disorganization were good enough reasons to take action. 

• I took some good advice and decided to try Sharpie Pens. They're growing on me. 
• I made a call on a recent dilemma. To Levenger or Not To Levenger. I decided to take the imposter route and download the templates from our share drive at work, saving me a ridiculous amount of money but not sacrificing the brilliance that is Levenger.
• I dusted off my Label Baby Junior. And wondered how I'd lived without it for the last year.
• I started filing the 500+ emails in my inbox. When I left work on Thursday, it was under 200. SERIOUS progress. For reference: I would prefer to have no more than 10 emails in my inbox at any given time. 500 emails were giving me a little panic attack.    

It's been a big week. Please don't make fun of me to my face. I might make you a file.

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In other news, the little guy is loving his new school. He fell on the playground yesterday and busted his lip. And he gets positively filthy playing outside, requiring an average of two outfits each day... But we love the new school. A good choice.

A few pics from the last week--

  

The red rocking chair belonged to Colt's Grandpa Martin as a little boy. It's a new favorite destination in the living room.

Last Saturday afternoon we went to a housewarming party for friends Teresa, Ryan and Chaz. They have a beautiful new home in Fayetteville. Chaz - who's almost 2 - shared his toys with Colt (and taught him how to make a big wet mess in the kiddie pool!) and this toy lawnmower was a favorite. It made a little gurgling noise when it moved, so he would push it about a foot - far enough to start the noise - then giggle. All over the yard! He never walked behind it for more than a few seconds at a time. Just long enough to hear the gurgling noise and have a good laugh. Weird kid.

And last night, since Paw was out of town, we had a rare treat. Bath Time!

 

Have a great weekend and a safe holiday.