Budding Author

All of a sudden Noah's writing has taken off. (Not necessarily his spelling, but his sense of composition.) A month ago it was still a struggle to get him to write two or three sentences. Now he is picking up paper and writing on his own volition. He started a story this afternoon and wrote the above before anyone noticed what he was doing. It's just the beginning of the story he said. He intends (whether or not he eventually does) to finish it later.

Ezra is moving everywhere and fast. He has become so wiggly in the changing table he reminds me of Noah at this age. He fell off Avi's bed today, luckily I was so close I caught him and helped him gently summersault off. He is getting all around the room in no time, despite not technically crawling. He's crawling backwards and rolling and wiggling and flipping and scooting around the room faster than we can pick Legos up off the floor. I realized today that he has no problem going from front to back to horizontal to sitting with no problem at all, and it occurred to me that I don't remember him transitioning into that new skill. It's all going by so fast! He ate pizza tonight. The boy has no teeth! But you should see him rip off a hunk of crust with those powerful gums. The same ones mind you that sent him to the chiropractor shortly after birth for some cranial sacral massage because nursing him was so excruciatingly painful.

Less than kingly speech

After a high energy afternoon at the park, Avi fell asleep on the couch yesterday afternoon and was unwakeable until after his bedtime. Forget Tot Shabbat service. Forget dinner. Cary wasn't home, so I just let him sleep on the couch until I got the other two in bed and then put him to bed. Cary got home and we decided to watch The King's Speech. About 10:30 we heard a pitter-patter up the stairs and he came into the rumpus room. Given the long long nap and the content of the movie, I decided to overlook the nighttime misdemeanor. He snuggled in next to me and actually watched the movie for over an hour until the end. Fabulous movie for us, but had to be dreadfully dull to a three-year old. He even said as one point, "This movie is boring," but that didn't stop him from staying up. Though we didn't express it aloud, Cary and I both figured it couldn't hurt. There was no violence, no sex, no overtly adult themes (at least not recognizable to a three-year old). And then Colin Firth as King George the 7th(?) with the encouragement of his speech therapist launches into a cursing firestorm. F-this and s-that over and over. Cary and I couldn't help but giggle nervously. How could we have been prepared for that? Avi started giggling too, but I think it was as much because we were and because the King also was gesticulating and dancing around. Thankfully, we haven't witnessed a change in his vocabulary since watching the movie.

Free and easy

So we're nearly home from school, I'm already in the gate actually, when Noah looks back and starts cracking up. Avi, who was a half a block behind us, has stripped off his flip flops, shorts, and underwear. They were suddenly "uncomfortable." Never mind he's been wearing the outfit all day to gymnastics, in the backyard, at the school playground, and downtown. And no, they weren't wet. Suddenly his underwear was just uncomfortable. Oh, that explains it then. The picture isn't as accurate as it should be though. He was going to come into the house with his clothes and shoes still out on the sidewalk, until I made him pick them up.

"Booger Power"

Is there really anything else to say about this? I don't have it, but whatever booger power is, my boys apparently do.

Radiators

How I hate cleaning up all the paint chips from the radiators. The boys seem to think that it's perfectly ok to ignore me on this matter. I blame Cary, as they've seen him do it. Why a grown man felt the need to pick paint chips from them I have no idea?!?! But, every since then, getting them to not do it on the sly has been impossible. I want radiator covers made. But in one of parenthood's many many ironies, by the time we have time to make them, we won't need them for that reason.

SuperEater Meets his Match

Ezra wants to eat everything and hasn't found much that he doesn't care for. He likes veggies and grains more than sweet fruit so far (making it hard for me to believe he's really my child, but I do remember him being born quite vividly), but really he's not picky, and though I give a nod to the rules about what they should and shouldn't eat at this age (no honey, no peanut butter, no chokeable foods, etc.), I've been pretty lax about what I let him try. I've figured if something doesn't agree with him, we'll just take a step back for awhile. Well, that something came up. Literally. Apparently Café Yumm sauce is a little much for a seven-month-old stomach to handle. He was enjoying it at dinner time, but in the middle of the last blog posting (which I finished later), he woke up crying. I went to soothe him and help him find his binky, but found that he was lying in a pool of vomit. Lovely. Who wouldn't be crying? I picked him up, called Cary and we worked together to get the sheets changed and Ezra and I both showered, dried and redressed in clean pajamas. As soon as he was in the shower with me he was happy again. He didn't have a fever or anything, I'm pretty sure it was just an upset tummy from his overly-mature dinner. We got all cleaned up and he was pretty frantic to nurse again. We sat down in the rocker in his bedroom and right before he started to nurse he paused, pulled back and hurled all over both of us again, three times as much as before. Back to the bath and shower. New pjs again for both of us. More stuff carried to the laundry. By the time we settled back in the nursing chair again (somehow I caught all the puke with my body and the chair stayed clean - lucky I guess?!?!), he was exhausted and screaming. But fortunately, that was the end of it and he was healthy as ever in the morning. It will be awhile before I give him Café Yumm again.

Where did my Loveable Lump go?

For the first six plus months of his life, I was referring to Ezra fondly as "My Loveable Lump." He was so mellow, and stayed where I put him. That was the case until the last couple of days. He had turned on me. I knew he would. I knew he kept watching his older brothers and thinking to himself, "Someday I'm going to be like them. I'll show her." Joke's on him. I've been prepared this whole time. I keep telling people, "Yeah, he seems mellow and oh so easy, but the other two wild willful boys were easy too, I'm just biding my time." So it happened. I got seven months out of him. Just last week I could put him down on the ground surrounded by toys and he'd be happy for 20-30 minutes. Yes he technically does know how to roll in both directions, but he wouldn't for the most part. He'd sit until he fell over and then play in that spot on his tummy or back for a loooong time, happily. Now, it's like a switch was flipped. He has suddenly realized that he wants things and that he might be able to get them if he just ______ (fill in the blank). But he just can't quite ___________ (fill in the blank), and he is FRUSTRATED! I admit to finding it a little amusing when he's trying to reach for something and finds himself not getting it but instead getting farther and farther away from it due to the inexplicable backward scoot. I can remember one of the other boys doing the same thing. I think it was Noah. "Why am I going backwards? Why is that cool toy getting farther from my reach?" The legs are working, but not in the right direction. Not yet anyhow. But he's moving alright. Far from staying put he will twist, wiggle, roll, shimmy, and scoot his way all around a room in a decidedly non-linear pattern.

Not only is he dramatically different with regards to big-motor skills, but all of a sudden some flip was switched and he's grabbier, louder, and much more demonstrative in general. I knew his brothers would influence him. :)

It only takes a millisecond

Ezra did a header off the changing table the night before last. It was horrifying. I felt so scared and stupid and awful. How many times have I held on to him when he's been sitting in the changing table and thought how I wouldn't dare leave him unattended in that position because he would most likely fall and then I let that exact thing happen!
I was holding on to him as I was monitoring Noah get into the shower and helping him one-handed with the curtain and such. Then when Noah decided to take a bath instead, seeing how thoroughly filthy he was, I wanted to put some bubbles in his bath. I was still within reaching distance of Ezra, but unthinkingly took my other hand to unscrew the cap off the bottle of bubbles and out of the corner of my eye I see Ezra go head first off the table and land on his head on the floor between the garbage can and toilet, like some kind of terrible human slinky summersaulting through the air and unfolding on the floor. I can't get the image out of my mind. It just keeps replaying again and again.
He didn't cry for long. I snatched him up as soon as I saw him moving his arms and legs which was instantly and took him naked into his room to nurse him. He was happy again within just a few minutes, probably less then five, but it's taken me a day to get over it. I just keep thinking about what could have happened. How he could be paralyzed or dead or brain damaged. He doesn't even have a noticeable bump. We called the advice nurse just to make sure, but there were never any signs of concern. There's still part of me that worries that there might be long term brain injury, but I guess there's nothing else I can do except make sure I'm never so stupid again.
Thank God babies are so resilient and he's fine.