Wills in the Hizzouse

This Saturday we are scheduled to host a daylong playdate with cousin Wills. We are so excited! We're already making a schedule and a list of activities. Bulletins as events warrant.

Grandma and Grandpa Visit

I didn't get to see my grandparents nearly as much as Logan, Oliver and my nephew, Wills, do. They are very lucky with all of their grandparents either in Texas or next door in Oklahoma.

Logan Puttin' on the Ritz

Reading on the couch.

Waiting for grandma and grandpa to arrive "on an airplane."

Early Release

Yesterday evening just before dinner, Logan earned a time out for hitting. I told him to turn off "Yo Gabba Gabba" and wash his hands for dinner, and he smacked me in the leg and said "No." He really likes "Yo Gabba Gabba."

Anyway, hitting is an automatic time out in our house, so off he went to his room with the door closed for two minutes.

I had spaghetti boiling so I went into the kitchen to watch it while Larry fed Oliver in the dining room. About 30 seconds later, Logan marched into the kitchen, shooting a stink-eye at me from the corner of his eye and making his way behind the center island in our kitchen into the dining room as if I couldn't see him. I really, really wanted to laugh at the fact that he'd let himself out of time out and was going to report me to Daddy.

I kept my chuckles in check and back to time out we went. But now we have to guard the door, so a time out for Logan is a time out for everyone involved.

Ollie Giggles

Things that make Oliver laugh:

The word "tofu"

Peek-a-boo

Tickles from Daddy

Logan

A Child of the 21st Century

Logan left the top off of his orange Crayola washable marker and it dried out. After several attempts to get it running again, Larry told him this morning, "Sorry, buddy, the marker is all dried out."

Logan paused for some thought.

"Okay, Daddy. Needs batteries!"

The Student Becomes the Teacher

Logan turned the tables this evening and tried to put me in time out. I'd dropped a plastic toy of Oliver's, and as I reached over to get it, Logan looked at me, furrowed his brow and said, "That's 1."

The really disturbing thing is, after he counted me to "2," I started to defend myself. (Why are you counting? I didn't do anything wrong...).

We did not get to "3" but I think only because Oliver, when he saw I'd picked up his toy, grabbed it and made a delighted Ollie-squawk that made us laugh. I need to check "1-2-3 Magic" and see if there is a chapter on "When the Toddler Becomes the Counter."

A Story Too Familiar

The Austin community has galvanized around a very little baby named Isaac Roy and his family. Read his story here.

There's a silent auction going on right now to raise money to help "Ike's" family defray some of the enormous costs from his NICU stay and subsequent hospitalizations. If you had a mean thought about a co-worker today, cut someone off in traffic, ate a few grapes from the produce section without paying or did something else to mess with your karma, you can make it right, right now, by checking out the auction and bidding on, say, some cupcakes from Hey Cupcake.

In typical Austin style, other items include the right to name two characters in an upcoming novel and an organic garden installation.

This family's story could almost be ours. We have been extremely fortunate on the insurance front, and even then, the bills from Oliver's NICU stay (and Avery's) are staggering. Please take a peek at the auction.

Sleepytime Ollie

Several people have inquired about Oliver's sleeping habits of late, and I've been remiss in reporting that he's been doing very well. We've been putting him down at about 7 PM and he's actually quite good at putting himself to sleep; it's not necessary to put him down fully asleep.

Lately he's been rocking as much as a 7-hour stretch, waking up at 2 a.m., nursing very quickly then going right back to sleep until about 5 a.m. Now, since I can not bring myself to go to bed at 7 p.m. with him, I'm still somewhat sleep deprived. However, getting back that two-hour stretch of quiet in the evenings after Logan goes to sleep has been very, very nice.

Regardless, we're fairly certain, thanks to the constant river of drool, hand chewing and evening fussiness, that he's started teething. So whatever patterns we've established are about to be disturbed, anyway.

Egg Hunt

Somebody is due for a haircut.

Backfire

Logan hasn't been eating much since he's been feeling a little under the weather. Tonight we tried to leverage his obsession with the neighbors to generate some interest in the comfort food we'd prepared for his supper. It was an especially intriguing evening: Earlier, we'd actually sighted the neighbors playing in their tree house.

While pushing his food around, Logan asked me what the neighbors were doing. I told him they were eating supper. Larry added that they were eating a supper of pancakes and yogurt. Logan gave us a thoughtful look and took a few spoons of his yogurt and two bites of his pancake. Larry finally got up to give Ollie a bath and I stayed with Logan, hoping he might eat more.

Eventually he looked out at the neighbors' house and said, "Eating supper?"

I said, "Yes, they are eating their supper and they are having exactly what you are having! What do you think they are eating right now?"

He regarded me, smiled ear-to-ear, and said, "Chicken nuggets!"

Under the Weather

Sweet Logan has bronchitis. We've been waiting out what we thought was just a nasty cold, but Larry took him to Dr. P today after four days of coughing and fever. Logan has been up at 2 a.m. every night this week, feverish and scared...which means Daddy has been sleeping on the floor of Logan's room from 2 a.m. on every night.

Fortunately, it's very mild and Dr. P expects he'll be feeling a lot better by this time tomorrow (thank you, Zithromax). And it's not an ear infection, which was our theory this morning. Never thought I'd find myself "grateful" for bronchitis.

More on the F-Bombs

Our fervent hope that last week’s F-word incident was a one-time performance was dashed this weekend when Logan dropped follow-up F-bombs not once, but twice. It’s becoming clear that he knows it’s a naughty word that will get attention.

This is our punishment for being simultaneously mortified and amused by Baby’s First Potty Word.

Larry cracked down immediately with a straight-to-time-out, which Logan hates. As is typical, upon release from time out, Logan launched a full-scale charm offensive of hugs and “I Love You’s,” so he certainly gets that it was not OK.

I wasn't present for the incidents so I have yet to hear it for myself. And I'm hoping to stay that way.

Our Li'l Angel Drops an F-Bomb

Yesterday Logan's teacher called me aside when I dropped him off. This is always a little scary, as I am expecting the worst.

We've carefully observed Logan and must reveal to you that we believe he will never get in to the college of his choice.

Logan shows an odd, borderline unhealthy affinity for shoes.

Logan taught the entire class how to fart the alphabet.

Well, it wasn't any of that, but she did tell me that Logan used the F-word earlier in the week. My first thought, of course, was "Damn it, Larry!" and I immediately launched a defense of our home life.

But she reassured me that the culprit was another kid who brought it in and taught it to everyone else. A kid with a talkative big brother at home. Much like Oliver will be in a few years. Uh-oh.

We have not heard Logan use it at home, or anything like it. I can't even imagine such a word coming out of my little angel's mouth. However, this does explain why he has suddenly begun lecturing us at random "no potty words!"