Category Archives: Family/Parenting

Because there is more than just Stella.

9 Month Porter: tongues, toilets, catfood, clapping

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A big round of applause for our little McGoo, who has managed to make it – alive and healthy – to his 9-month birthday. And for that I congratulate all of us, as there were honestly some moments when I thought the earth was going to open beneath our feet and swallow all four of us in one giant gulp.

As I mentioned earlier this week, I am (naievely?) optimistic that we are finally moving from Chaos-Land into Settling-Down-ville. Stella really and truly seems to enjoy and appreciate Porter more and more every day, Steve and I realized that perpetual forward motion is the key to survival, and most importantly, I have finally come to the conclusion that if I don’t stop my bitching, the whiner police are going to come haul my kids away and give them to someone who completed the program in This is Parenting You Big Baby, So Just Suck it Up Already – a degree in which I apparently took an Incomplete.

There are quite a few little McGoo idiosyncrasies that I have been remiss in chronicling on these pages of late. Following is a a quick laundry-list of some of the charming qualities that make us scramble to be the first to say, “Um, yeah. He get’s that from your side.”

Behold the tongue thing.

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I’ve got about a million more where that came from. Think of it this way: The harder he concentrates, the more that tongue figures into the equation.

Then there’s the toilet and catfood thing. I have already mentioned his need to loiter in areas that keep him strategically positioned to bolt for either the bathroom or laundry room. I am not exaggerating when I say that he can be in the living room playing quietly, and the moment he hears that bathroom door open, he will drop everything and move at mach-5 to get there. 99.9% of the time we catch him. As for that .01% that we don’t, well, I think you can figure it out. Like, for example, last week while I was handling a Crisis Level 3 situation (untangling Stella from the mini-blinds) and someone stealthed his way into the bathroom. By the time I realized he wasn’t in the kitchen where I had left him, he had already managed to soak his entire upper body in toilet bowl water. As I raced in there to prevent him from taking a full-on swim, the look on his face as could fairly accurately be described as saying, “It’s exactly as beautiful as I’d imagined it. And, given the opportunity, I’ll do it again in a second, lady. Count on it.”

And, there is that thing about how he worships his sister, and can’t get out of earshot of her without nearly panicking. Now that he is moving under his own power he trails her like a shadow. And to my delight, she actually kind of indulges him. As she and I headed out to do some errands last week, I asked her if she wanted it to be just the two of us, or if we should bring Porter too. Without even considering it she said, “Porter has to come too!” I guess if I had someone worshipping my every breath I’d want to keep them as handy as possible too. As a testament to this wonderful (albeit temporary) sibling cameraderie, Porter unveiled a new trick to us last night, but now only will do it at Stella’s prompting. Before he decided that we weren’t worth his time, I managed to get a tiny video clip of it. The reason it gets so shaky (beware of motion sickness) is because I am trying to simultaneously hold the camera and clap my hands – something he will now mimic us (or, rather, Stella) doing. If you look closely, you’ll also see that tongue…

Porter wishing he had a set of cymbals.

And here’s a (dark and grainy) clip of Stella and Porter in a high speed chase scene.

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And for those of you who need to update your flip-charts (and you know who you are, Judy Walston): 22 lbs | 27 inches | size/height: average | 7 teeth | chest: same | slight baby bowleggedness (absolutely common) | advised that sleep problems need proactive resolution, given name of new literary resource

The Hula

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For what seems an eternity now, Stella’s favorite movie has been Lilo & Stitch. So much so, that we not only own the original and the sequel, but have also downloaded some of the music. She listens to it overandoverandoverandover and one of her favorite things to do is the Hula. It is pretty much one of the cutest things ever and she is SO into it, we have tried to figure out a way to get her signed up for lessons the next time they are on campus (which is yearly) even if she just gets to audit the first hour of the first class. I can only imagine it would be the most magical moment of her life. Not to mention, she tells me on a regular basis how we need to go to Hawaii. Who am I to tell her no?

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Me to 2006: “HA! That’s all you got?”

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Although Stella has proven to be an exceptionally good traveler, we came to the conclusion that there is only so much you can really expect from a 3-year-old when it comes to being trapped in the car for 10 hours at a time. And so it was, we rounded out 2006 by adding a portable DVD system to our arsenal of kid wrangling tools. What this meant to me:

  1. I would officially have to do all the driving, as Steve could not be trusted to NOT watch the screen through the rear-view mirror while driving.
  2. I could not escape having to listen to Lilo & Stitch (both I and II) on an end-to-end loop.
  3. I was, yet again, reminded that I no longer have the right to use the words “I will never” in regards to parenting.

How is it that generations of children have had to survive road trips with nothing but coloring books and second-hand copies of car bingo and NOT DIED OF NEGLECT? I remember when I had to walk uphill both ways in the snow barefoot on car trips. Or was that ride in the back of a pick-up truck while it was raining? I can’t remember because the hypothermia diminished my ability to accurately recall such events. In any case, we do these things because if we didn’t, we’d all still be hoofing it across the plains in dust clouds while staring at the wrong end of a horse. It’s progress. At least that is how I am justifying it to myself.

That is also how I am summing up the year that was 2006: Progress.

Ah, 2006. Or, as I like to refer to it: The Year I Got 4 Hours of Sleep. I should have known that when I brought in the New Year pregnant, with no electricity and a toddler who was inches from sucking every ounce of sanity I had left, it was setting the pace for the rest of our year. I couldn’t have been any less prepared for the giant twist our lives took once we became a family of four. I guess I could sum it up by saying that everything in our lives was stretched to it’s absolute breaking point – emotional, physical, you name it. I say this with no sense of frustration or sadness. Instead, what I found is that it became a great equalizer – allowing me to prioritize and reflect on the most important pieces and parts. From there it was (sort-of) simple: Allocate energy accordingly. Adjust when necessary. Progress. Or something like that.

As we head into 2007, the seas will begin to settle. I feel it. In many ways, they already have – not because routines are any easier, but because we have all managed to begin adjusting. We are figuring out how we fit into each other’s lives. We have managed to retrofit expectations with reality. Stella both challenges and charms me on a daily basis but more importantly has adjusted to sharing life with a brother. Little McGoo has continued to change it up on me in regards to routines and schedules, but has also settled firmly into a personality that is his, and his alone – while giving me the opportunity to experience just how much fun it is to have a little boy. (Dude! Do you really have to go for the jewels every time I change your diaper?) All the while, Steve and I continue to work on our relationship, and all the new intricacies that having two children has added to the mix. One thing I know for sure – I am forever grateful to have such a dedicated and participative partner in all of this chaos.

I guess what I am trying to say is: No, it hasn’t been easy. Yes, we are getting better at it. Yes, it is worth it. And, yes, I’d do it all again in a second.

And, as for 2007: Bring. It. On.

Two words: Crawl. Ing.

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For the past couple of months, Porter’s method of getting from point A to point B involved a convoluted form of what could only be described as “rolling”. It went something like this: He’d start in a sitting position. Then he’d maneuver himself onto his hands and knees. Then he’d straighten out his legs so that his body formed an inverted ‘V’. Then he’d flop back over to a sitting position. And, voila! He had moved about six inches in any direction. Not exactly a method that was going to set any land speed records, but it got the job done to his satisfaction. That is, until he made loving eye contact with the catfood dish. Neither Hell nor high water was going to prevent him from answering it’s haunting call.

He’d call to it from across the room. He’d lay on his belly and attempt to air-swim towards it. He’d attempt to maneuver closer by executing his patented “rolling” method, but short it of sprouting legs and walking to him, nothing was going to bring those two together. As we neared our departure for the Christmas holiday, he and his beloved were still separated by a sea of linoleum.

And so it was that on December 28th, heady off the aroma of Christmas, our little McGoo officially started crawling.

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Within a few short hours of being home, we had to fish a handful of catfood out of his mouth, and then caught him gnawing on the plug of the dining room lamp (that he had so masterfully released from the confines of the outlet). For reasons we cannot yet figure out, the bathroom seems to call to him like no other room in the house. It is as though he has developed an extra sense that immediately alerts him whenever we have been careless enough to not bolt it shut. Same goes with the laundry room – or, as I am sure he calls it: That Beautiful Place Where the Golden Delicious Nuggets From Heaven Are Kept.

Staying true to my long string of desparate acts as a mother, I figured out a way to use his obsession with grazing from the catfood bowl to my advantage. By simply replacing the catfood with a bowl of dry cereal, I am able to keep him happily occupied during those times where I might otherwise be trying to keeping one child from diving headfirst into the toilet and the other from covering herself head-to-toe in Band-Aids.

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A new low, you say? Need I remind you that I am the same person who pays my child to wear her clothes?