I was excited about introducing Lily to Modelling Clay, or what's probably better known as Play Doh. The brand name Play Doh is part of the giant toy conglomerate Hasbro, so I made it a point to try and use the term modelling clay with Lily.
So, we played with clay.
I'm tempered by past experience to know that kids don't always 'get' things the first time. She wasn't going to be doing a re-creation of Michelangelo's David the first time, and I reluctantly accepted that. Still, she did a pretty good job, and it clearly showed the genius that every parent manages to find in their kid.
I gave her a fast run through of the fundamentals of clay play - making a snake (rolling it), making a face (then destroying it), making a dog (or some kind of quadruped, then destroying it), and, finally, don't eat it (she didn't). We both enjoyed playing, and it's something we can go back to any time there is time to use.
Then we put it away.
I put her to bed that night. It's at this time that I like to run down the major events of the day, giving her a narrative of everything that happened. It's a nice memory jogger right before sleep -- the time of day when everything we learn is written into long term memory. It's also a great distraction when I sense she's getting fussy.
So, the conversation went like this...
Dad: Do you remember playing with modelling clay?
Lily: Huh?
Dad: The modelling clay?
Lily: Huh?
Dad: Remember when we played with the clay?
Lily: Huh?
Dad: Remember we molded it with our hands?
Lily: Huh?
Dad: Remember playing with the Play Doh?
Lily: Yea
So, it's Play Doh after all.
Friday, August 27, 2010
On being a morning person
I've never really been a morning person. I've always worked out in the afternoon on weekdays - right after work. Morning workouts were something for the weekend, when the morning goes all the way till noon and time is in abundance.
The problem, when you have kids, is that there is this narrow window between after-work and before-bedtime. Every minute at the gym is one sacrificed with them, and that makes it hard to justify spending time at the gym, during the waking hours.
So, for the last couple weeks, I have started to transition my workouts to the morning.
So far, I've only seen positive benefits from this. I have the extra time with wife & kids. I have extra energy from starting the day right. The only downside would be that I'm dead tired at night, but that just means less time on the Internet, TV or video games, which is a gain in itself.
I've heard people say that kid's change you, and I never bought that. You are the same person you always were, it's just that the demands on you change. You are given a new set of rules and roles, and that same person you always were deals with those. So, I guess I have always been a morning person.
The problem, when you have kids, is that there is this narrow window between after-work and before-bedtime. Every minute at the gym is one sacrificed with them, and that makes it hard to justify spending time at the gym, during the waking hours.
So, for the last couple weeks, I have started to transition my workouts to the morning.
So far, I've only seen positive benefits from this. I have the extra time with wife & kids. I have extra energy from starting the day right. The only downside would be that I'm dead tired at night, but that just means less time on the Internet, TV or video games, which is a gain in itself.
I've heard people say that kid's change you, and I never bought that. You are the same person you always were, it's just that the demands on you change. You are given a new set of rules and roles, and that same person you always were deals with those. So, I guess I have always been a morning person.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Irrational Fears
"Nate looked up at me and smiled this morning. Then he followed my face around the room. It made my day."
I wrote this in May. It was when I had a wholly irrational fear that Nate wasn't acknowledging faces, and could be autistic. This line was meant to be part of a larger blog post, but has sat unpublished since that date.
This fear seems ridiculous now. Now he's 5 months old, and loves peek-a-boo. He lights up when he recognizes his sister's faces amongst a crowd of other children. He looks around the room for a face, when he hears mom's voice. He laughs more than I knew a 5 month old could.
It just doesn't make sense to worry about things before they can happen. There are enough things going on that you have to worry about, and only good reason warrants adding to that list.
I wrote this in May. It was when I had a wholly irrational fear that Nate wasn't acknowledging faces, and could be autistic. This line was meant to be part of a larger blog post, but has sat unpublished since that date.
This fear seems ridiculous now. Now he's 5 months old, and loves peek-a-boo. He lights up when he recognizes his sister's faces amongst a crowd of other children. He looks around the room for a face, when he hears mom's voice. He laughs more than I knew a 5 month old could.
It just doesn't make sense to worry about things before they can happen. There are enough things going on that you have to worry about, and only good reason warrants adding to that list.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Nate eats real food
Nate has been eating rice for a couple weeks now. Most of it has been mixed into bottles, but he's managed to eat a little bit directly.
Today he was able to eat organic sweet potatoes - the second 'real food' he's tried. Most of what goes in dribbles out, and has to be re-spooned in. Eventually the whole half jar was either spread across his face and some had probably even made it to his tummy. He seemed to enjoy the experience or at least not get fussy.
Carrots or peas will follow in a couple weeks.
Today he was able to eat organic sweet potatoes - the second 'real food' he's tried. Most of what goes in dribbles out, and has to be re-spooned in. Eventually the whole half jar was either spread across his face and some had probably even made it to his tummy. He seemed to enjoy the experience or at least not get fussy.
Carrots or peas will follow in a couple weeks.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Nate's Favorite
While there was a passive competition between Cindy and I to be Lily's favorite, there is no such competition with Nate. He loves his sister more than anyone, and his eyes tell the story -- he follows Lily wherever she goes.
The bond between the two is so clear and strong, at this point, that it's touching to see. She can make him laugh with a song (a particular one - that sounds like 'boom boom'). She can always get a smile with a hug. She rarely enters the room without acknowledging her far less mobile brother. Finally, when she wakes up, disoriented from a night of sleep, he's the first one she asks for, "Where's Nate?".
Hopefully this early bond lasts a lifetime.
Blogging for a Year
I just noticed that this blog has been active for a year (as of August 6th, actually).
The first post on here was announcing a pregnancy that produced our son, Nate. In that alone you can see the evolution of our lives..... how so much, and so little, can change in a year. We talked about a new baby. Now we talk about toddlers and babies. Soon it will change as babies turn to toddlers, and toddlers turn into children, or for as long as we add to it.
This is a living document that I want to keep building.
The first post on here was announcing a pregnancy that produced our son, Nate. In that alone you can see the evolution of our lives..... how so much, and so little, can change in a year. We talked about a new baby. Now we talk about toddlers and babies. Soon it will change as babies turn to toddlers, and toddlers turn into children, or for as long as we add to it.
This is a living document that I want to keep building.
100 Things
I read a story in the New York Times this past weekend that talked about people pursuing happiness by living with less 'stuff'. The people mentioned actually made it a point to own only 100 things. This concept fascinated me, and it makes me want to count what I own, in an effort to whittle that list down.
I have way more than 100 things. What would inflate my numbers would be media (books, CD's, DVD's and video games), shared household items (silverware) and clothing. Maybe some ground rules could be set here, because it seems ridiculous to count every CD -- maybe count 1 for every 100 CD's, or each rack of CD's as one. It also seems ridiculous to count spoons or commodity clothing, like white t-shirts. Materialistic excess would be the point and excessive hoarding of media or clothing should be marked, somehow.
The value of maintaining a list like this would be how it makes you think about new things added to your life.
I have way more than 100 things. What would inflate my numbers would be media (books, CD's, DVD's and video games), shared household items (silverware) and clothing. Maybe some ground rules could be set here, because it seems ridiculous to count every CD -- maybe count 1 for every 100 CD's, or each rack of CD's as one. It also seems ridiculous to count spoons or commodity clothing, like white t-shirts. Materialistic excess would be the point and excessive hoarding of media or clothing should be marked, somehow.
The value of maintaining a list like this would be how it makes you think about new things added to your life.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Monday, August 16, 2010
The Dreaded Hockey Skates
The first time Lily saw roller hockey skates - she was terrified. It didn't even register as the source of her fear, at the time, so the very act of comforting her panic (while wearing skates), became a callous encroachment of the very thing she feared. Once I understood the source of the fear, I backed off and attempted to explain the harmless nature of skates.
The incident was absurd, yet also somewhat understandable. To the seasoned eye, skates are skates. What she was seeing were scuffed leather, scratched metal and dirty plastic contraptions which made a person taller and move unnaturally (roll). It could be scary, if you'd never seen them before.
The fear lasted beyond that day. She plays soccer at a place with two roller hockey rinks, and would make me carry her through any section that someone on skates might roll past. Around the house, she wouldn't come within 10 feet of hockey skates and wasn't at all tempted to roll the wheels.
It took watching Dad play a hockey game and a visit to a Hockey store (where skates lined the wall) to turn the tide. She now she expresses a desire to play some day. She will even spin the wheels on the skates. She'll also point out the skates if they are in the room, which expresses interest, admiration and likely the fear she has managed to (mostly) conquer.
On the second hockey game she came to see me play in - she let me pick her up while I was wearing skates. That's progress.
The incident was absurd, yet also somewhat understandable. To the seasoned eye, skates are skates. What she was seeing were scuffed leather, scratched metal and dirty plastic contraptions which made a person taller and move unnaturally (roll). It could be scary, if you'd never seen them before.
The fear lasted beyond that day. She plays soccer at a place with two roller hockey rinks, and would make me carry her through any section that someone on skates might roll past. Around the house, she wouldn't come within 10 feet of hockey skates and wasn't at all tempted to roll the wheels.
It took watching Dad play a hockey game and a visit to a Hockey store (where skates lined the wall) to turn the tide. She now she expresses a desire to play some day. She will even spin the wheels on the skates. She'll also point out the skates if they are in the room, which expresses interest, admiration and likely the fear she has managed to (mostly) conquer.
On the second hockey game she came to see me play in - she let me pick her up while I was wearing skates. That's progress.
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