A multimedia extravaganza starring Zeke (born January 2005) and his little sister Talia (born December 2006), lovingly put together by their father!
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Zeke continues to demonstrate his ability to handle extended strings of ideas, if sometimes in worrisome ways. Tonight's before-bed chat:
Me: Do you like school? (Probably the wrong question. Oh well.)
Me: Why not?
Z.: My friends aren't nice to me.
Me: What do they do?
Z.: They hit me.
Me: Then what happens?
Z.: I hit them too.
Me: Then what happens?
Z.: I go in time out.
Me: Then what happens?
Z.: I am done with my time out, and I get up and we have a snack.
I'd be more concerned about this if I knew he weren't constantly making stuff up. I think they'd tell me at daycare if he were getting in fistfights regularly.
Monday, June 25, 2007
The whole family spent a couple of hours down near Lock 60, where the Schuylkill River Canal passes by Phoenixville and Mont Clare, PA. Today was the annual Canal Day, a fundraising event for preserving the lock and locktender's house. They had a bunch of kids' activities, including one of those boards with holes cut into it that you're supposed to toss bean-bags through. Zeke soon got tired of tossing the bean-bags (he wouldn't get further away than about six inches, so there wasn't much challenge), and he decided to repurpose the equipment. Larger versions here.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Today Zeke came home from daycare complaining that his arm hurt, and he was reluctant to use it for anything. On the pediatrician's advice, we took him to the emergency room in case an X-ray was needed. Turns out it was nursemaid's elbow.
A child should not be lifted or swung by the arms or hands nor should a child's arm be pulled hard. A small child should be lifted from under the arms.
... [N]ursemaid's elbow commonly occurs when an obstinate child is forcibly pulled along or lifted by the forearm by a parent or older sibling. For example, the injury might occur in a shopping center where a young child, typically two or three years old, is intent on pursuing a course or selecting an item somewhat different from the intentions of the parent.
And there you are. He was back to normal in about five minutes and within an hour he was telling people about how he hurt his arm and had to go to the hospital "yesterday."
Monday, June 18, 2007
Zeke almost never puts up a fight at bedtime -- not exactly, anyhow. What he does manage to do quite successfully is draw things out for a long time. Sometimes he whines, but usually he is subtler -- he squeezes out an engaging or amusing remark just as you think you're going to be able to get him to say good-night. Some of this is just simple manipulativeness, I think, but there's a fair amount of genuine anxiety about being left alone for the night. Tonight, though, he really topped himself. He started out by asking about his friend Billy (last seen on this blog here), who recently moved out of state (with his parents). He wanted to know where Billy was, saying, "I want my friend, I want Billy," and briefly became somewhat distressed, but then comforted himself (rather heartrendingly for the adult in the room) by saying, "When I wake up, my friend will come my house, and I will say, 'Come on in!'"
Then he started the process of talking himself into sleeping. He said: "At night time, the birds stop eating, and eating, and flying around, and they sit in their nests and go to sleep and tuck their heads under their wings, like this" (and he curled his arm around his head). Then -- and this was an absolute killer, I really did lose it for a minute -- he said, "Daddy, do the birds say to their mama and daddy, 'Don't fly away, stay here in the nest'? Is that what they say? Is that what they say? ... Daddy, I don't want you to leave."
On a lighter note, here are a few photos...
Showing off. He's wearing a favorite necklace, holding up two little plastic animals (one is a turtle, I'm not sure what the other is), and in the last photo he's also got the Father's Day card he made. He kept telling me, "I painted it, and I drawed it."Larger versions here.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Zeke really loved the slides for a good long while. Shortly after learning to walk confidently he started to enjoy being lifted up to the top of the slide and coming down on his own. Soon he began using them independently. Then, a few months ago, he stopped. He never seemed overtly afraid -- he'd climb to the top of the slides, sit down, and look around, grinning, but he suddenly became reluctant to let himself go. Just a few weeks ago he changed his mind again and now he loves them again. I'm glad.
Another amusing tidbit from a few days ago, in the bath:
Zeke: I'm like a turtle.
Heather: You're like a turtle? How?
Zeke: I'm like a turtle with my bum. (Slides across the bathtub.) See, I slide.
Monday, June 11, 2007
Photos from the weekend: excursion to the Philadelphia Academy of Natural Sciences, plus a few of Talia sleeping
The fourth photo (counting from the top left; the one that looks like a bunch of tiny light-green leaves hanging from a white shelf) is the pupa chamber of the Academy's live butterfly exhibit. I understand butterfly exhibits are popular these days, but this is the first one I've seen, and it was pretty mind-blowing. The first two, and the last, photos were taken at home.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Saturday, June 09, 2007
Thursday, June 07, 2007
When I dropped Zeke off at daycare yesterday, the women who work there told me he's adopted a kind of finger-wagging stance towards his friends there. When someone falls down, for example, he'll say, loudly, "You're okay!"
This post is not all that cute. It's just me talking. Click the little triangle to hear it. If you don't have speakers attached to your computer, or you're embarrassed for your coworkers to hear this post, call (510) 248-0386 and you should be able to listen to it. I hope. Or click the orange button below.