Category: Hooper

Style de Hooper

by Ashley filed under Hooper

I was wondering when the neon-goodness from the 80’s would make a return and I think it’s damn near time. This tank from Hello Apparel is all kinds of comfy (printed on an American Apparel tank). I bought Hooper the size 4. Hello Apparel is currently having a crazy sale and everything’s going fast. The leggings are from Mason and the Tambourine, which is quickly becoming my new favorite. These leggings are so soft and stretchy. I bought Hooper a size 3. I’m hoping they last a while cuz I’m not ready to put

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The Terrible Twos

by Ashley filed under Hooper, Motherhood, Parenting
My son is bipolar. Not literally but more in the sense that all toddlers are bipolar. He’ll raise his hand to hit me one minute and the next minute he’ll stroke my arm as if to say, “I love you, mom”. He’s experimenting, I get it.
One of the most important things in caring for a toddler, I’ve learned, has been to care for myself. The more rested and hydrated and fed and groomed I am, the more patience I have. On the days I don’t have time to shower or even change out of my pajamas, where I’m exhausted from Van waking me in the middle of the night (a rare occurrence as of late, thank goodness), and where feeding myself becomes tertiary to feeding the two little birds waiting for me to drop a worm into their mouths, I’m not as good of a mom as I know I can be. I’m sure every mom would agree with this. It goes without saying that the more rested and more prepared we are, the better we are at, well, everything.
Back to Hooper being bipolar. This kid flips between hitting and kissing like a ping pong ball in play on a Japanese table tennis court. The other day he raised his hand toward my head to stroke my hair and I scared him when I flinched, expecting to be smacked. Instead, I got a slobbery hand caressing my newly washed hair. It’s inconsistent, to say the least, but it’s nice to say that I’m not always the victim of abuse.
We’re working hard this week on positive reinforcement and rewarding “normal” behavior.
What’s working with your toddler this week?

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A Tour

by Ashley filed under Hooper

I’ve been promising this room tour for some time now and you know what finally kicked my ass in to gear? The thought of changing it. Willy and I are constantly changing things around the house and with the plethora of toys that seem to be taking over our home like the ivy has taken over the backyard, I’ve begun dreaming of putting the boys in the same room and designating the spare bedroom as a play room (AKA Shove all the kids shit into one room room. Yes, I meant room room). I digress.
This is Hooper’s room, as it appears today. I had to include a couple old (and by two year old standards, old means like 6 months ago) pics of Hoop playing in his room. There aren’t many pics of Hoop actually in his room because he hardly ever plays in there and because Willy insists on draping two sheets over the windows to fool him into sleeping longer, making it a f’n hassle to take any photos. I digress, again.
Most of what’s in his room was either mine as a child or purchased second hand from thrift stores, consignment shops, or flea markets. For the sake of clarification, we did not name him after the Burt Reynold’s movie, but that is a pretty cool print, no? Sure makes me want to change my name to Hooper so I can fly cars over large bodies of water. The book shelves on the wall are actually spice racks that I painted from Ikea (they cost a mere 5 bucks or something ridiculously cheap… for both of them). The bed and vintage school desk are both from a local flea market. The dresser is from a consignment shop in Big Bear. Almost all the toys and decorations, like the Norman Rockwell prints, were things my mom saved from my childhood. I still, believe it or not, have a few things I need/want to do before it’s finally considered finished in my book; like adding this wonderful illustration that Sarah Dyer did along with a few other odds n’ ends.
But for now, there you have it: Hooper’s room. Ta- freakin’ -da.

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Hooper @ 28 Months

by Ashley filed under Hooper
Growth & Appearance: Your father (I refer to him as your “father” when he’s in trouble) decided it would be a good idea to trim your bangs, which had been pecking your eyes like a bird at bread. He might as well had put a bowl on your head and given you a trim. Needless to say, for the first time ever, I started using product in your hair to allow you to rock the comb over look. When your bangs hang straight down, each end meeting perfectly in line with the one next to it, you look straight up dorky. Yeah, I said it. I’ll keep combing it on over. And, you’re welcome. Your hair has darkened up a bit and is the sweetest dirty blond.
You have eczema on the back of both of your knees. This is from your father, who says he had it throughout his child and adolescent years. He remembers it as a horrible experience, so you can thank him for that.
In other news, all of your two year molars are in. I hope this means less bipolar behavior.
Your feet are just nearly grown out of size 7 and these are the first set of shoes that may not make it through a Van cycle. The worn in souls and the shotty Velcro serve as a testament to days spent puddle jumping and galloping free as a bird. You’re still in size 4 diaper, when you wear a diaper, size 3T shirts and pants and pajamas. 
Eating: Oh lordy, it’s painful to even discuss. You suck at the table. I know we are largely to blame for many of the bad habits you have and we’re trying desperately to find the way out of the hole we’ve been digging. Desperate times call for desperate measures and I’ve actually arranged for an occupational therapist to come in and throw a rope down to the bottom of the cave where your Papa and I sit shivering in the cold. Our hope is that we can find peace during mealtime; meaning no ultimatums, no distractions, no bite by bite negotiations. It’s gotten incredibly time consuming and frustrating and while we both understand that you’re a toddler, we need to be on the same page as far as how to handle your toddler behavior at the table. If you ate every meal like you did chicken nuggets, however, dinner would be a breeze. I think that’s the only meal you eat entirely on your own with no fuss and even request more when you’re done. I can’t lie, I wish I could give you chicken nuggets for every. single. meal. But alas, I love you and want you thrive. Damn my love for you. Life would be easier if I just didn’t care. 
Talking: There really isn’t anything that you don’t say. You’re able to put a few words together. Here’s some of your most used phrases: “Papa, sit”, “One show, pweez”, “More sicken (chicken)”. You’re picking up so many words these days that oftentimes we don’t understand a lot of them. We used to speak your language and be able to translate for others but now I find myself shrugging my shoulders, unsure of what it is you’re trying to say.
The outside world remains one big game of pictionary. You love riding in the car and pointing out the buses and motorcycles (still called “da!”). You like to point out random male strangers and pronounce, “man!”. In fact, several times a day we say “yes, yes, Hooper, you’re right, that is a man”. I’m dreading the day you add adjectives and label someone as a fat man or a smelly man or an ugly man. Oh the lessons of life yet to come.
Sleeping: You’re still number one sleeper. You sleep about 10 hours at night and roughly 4 hours during the day (2-3 in the morning, 1-2 in the evening). As always, your evening nap is hit or miss. We still put you in your playpen for the naps because it’s easier for us and, like most things that are easier for us, has become a hard habit to break. You’re just as happy to nap there as your bed and you never fight a nap or bedtime (Picture me kissing the sky above, because that’s exactly what I’m doing right now). You sleep with your blanket (which you still call your da-dgee) and a bigger blanket (which you call your big da-dgee) and several stuffed animals that all have their own names: cooooooow, Niles, Jeff, Dan, Andy, Montner, to name a few. And yes, we did name a stuffed clown after one of your grandpas and cowboy smurf after the other.
You seem to have forgotten how to open your door. For a while there, you’d magically appear in our room. Now, when you wake up, you plant yourself at the foot of your door and wait for us to come get you.
Development: You have a concept of things being “gary” (scary). I think it’s a game, but you play the scared role well. Papa pretends to be a monstor and you come running toward me saying “gary, gary” and insist on being held. Yesterday you started running from Sarah and insisting she was scary too. You noticed a long dark hallway at a restaurant and referred to it as scary. You were happily playing with two older girls and when something went crashing and made a large sound, you refused to play with them any longer and kept referring to them as scary. We use your new found fears to our advantage by chasing you with the scissors so you now find them “gary”. This has solved the problem of you going in the drawer and trying to take the scissors out.
Along the same lines as your “gary” shenanigans, you now let out random screams. We think you picked it up from Curious George. Anytime any sort of commotion is going on, you look at us and let out one big loud scream. We were at a Spring training baseball game when a foul ball hit someone a few rows back. You picked up on all the commotion and let out one of your Curious George sceams. You also scream when Sarah is being overly rambunctious and, in general, during any times of mayhem.
You’ve figured out that blowing into your straw creates bubbles and you like this. You also like quacking like a duck and walking around in circles with your fists nestled into your armpits like duck wings. You love riding your balance bike and are able to balance well on it. It’s time to get you a bike or scooter, but we have yet to do so. Your legs are nearly long enough to start peddling.
You’re connecting concepts. Like the concept of swimming, for example. The other day we were making pasta and you pointed to it in the pot and proclaimed, “pasta fumming” (aka pasta swimming). The door of your imagination has cracked open and I’m sitting on the edge of my seat to hear how it all plays out in that little head of yours.
The jury is still out as to whether you are right or left handed. You tend to draw with your left, throw with your right, and eat with both your left and right.
You do a good job of entertaining yourself and are independent in all aspects other than eating.
You play the butthole game with your Papa. This is when you say, “butthole” and then Papa tickles you to near death. I’m not sure how I feel about this game because I’m your mom and I’m not supposed to encourage things like you saying “butthole”, but you really enjoy it and I’m quite certain it sounds like “pothole” anyway. Yeah, I’m going with pothole.
You mimic, oh do you mimic. The other day you copied me by resting your chin on your hand with your elbow on the table. You also do your own version of push-ups, something you picked up from your Grandpa (though I’m not going to lie, I wish you picked it up from me).
Your memory is on point. It’s amazing the things that obviously find a little corner to make a home in your brain. Like when we went to Arizona and you started looking for the balls you had hid by the sofa months before.
You’re a great traveler. You enjoy looking out the window at the passing cars and can easily tolerate a whole day of driving in the car. We’ve driven to San Francisco and Arizona (about 6-8 hours) and both times have been a breeze. I hope this translates to you enjoying the open road as an adult. Make sure you go places, ya hear?
You’ve become a good little helper. You clean up your toys at the end of the day and seem to enjoy putting all your cars back into your little suitcase just as much as you like taking them out. You’re better than I expected at sharing and like to pile your brother under a mountain of miscellaneous objects. You’re generally sweet and kind hearted. You’re a gentle soul and you love to laugh. You enjoy being the center of attention and play that role well. You’re a good sharer most of the time and love being rewarded for a job well done.
You have moments of toddler tantrums, but they seem to have simmered down considerably and are rather few and far between these days. Nevertheless, you still raise your hand to me, but more often than not, it lands on my head and is followed by a gentle pat. You love the reinforcement you get for being kind and rewarding normal behavior has done wonders for the terrible twos.
You can count. You refuse to do it when we ask, but at the most random times, you’ll go all the way from one to ten with a few hiccups in between.   
Favorites: There is a book called, “The Bike Lesson” by the Berenstain’s that you love. We read that a lot. You also love tractors and motorcycles. Whenever we see a parked motorcycle, we have to walk over and admire it for a least a few minutes. You still like arranging your cars into separate piles and are back at spreading your toys all over the sofa, making sitting down near impossible without ruining one of your piles. Luckily, it does not upset you in the least to have one of your piles pushed to the side. When this happens, you go right on to making a new pile. You’re adaptable that way. The gardeners are still one of your favorites and every time you see a truck with a lawn mower in the back, I have to pick your jaw up off the floor. You’re also still quite impressed with trash day and insist and going out to watch the trucks go by. Although, I have a sneaking suspicion this may start to get “gary”. Oh you little rascal, I sure do love you.

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My Little Nugget

by Ashley filed under Hooper, Motherhood
Dear Hooper,
You woke early from your nap, crying a cry that begged for my attention; begged me to forfeit the few minutes I usually give you to leisurely wake up. I came to your side and you were still lying in your playpen, tucked beneath blankets big and small and cradled, on each side, by a sea of stuffed animals. You stayed lying down and rubbed your eye as I turned on the light and turned off your humidifier. Your eye has been red and watery since yesterday and I’m immediately concerned that it’s bothering you. What bothers you, bothers me; we’re intertwined like that.
I scoop you up and hold you in my arms as I kneel on the floor beside your playpen. You’re naked, wearing only your diaper. Your blanket is draped over my shoulder and I can smell you on it. I enjoy the moment for what it’s worth, expecting your head to pop up off the crook of my shoulder momentarily. I know these moments are fleeting, but for whatever reason, you remain weightless in my arms; a part of me.
My neck starts to ache from the angle I have to hold it to accommodate your toddler frame. I debate whether I should take the chance and move to the bed, knowing that moving could wake the go-see-do toddler energy in you.
We move to the bed and you remain sunk into my frame; you legs sandwiched in between mine, your head still on my shoulder. I can feel the dampness of you hair, still wet from your bath. My fingers trace the outline of your spine all the way down to your diaper, which crinkles every time my fingers meet it. You have your fingers in your mouth and I listen as you periodically suck on them. You stop sucking to gasp for air, still congested from the cold that got the best of your Papa and brother as well.
You lie there long enough for me to relax; long enough for me to truly be present and forget about the laundry and the dishes that wait for me outside your door. I lift my head up off your pillow and peek at your face. Your eyes are closed. My fingers trace the outline of your face, running from your forehead down to your chin. You have not slept on me since you were an infant and I struggle to remember what those days were even like.
I start to get choked up, lying there with you. I can feel a lump in the back of my throat and a single tear traces a path down my face. I’m not sad, I’m in love, and I’m overcome by it. Engulfed in it.
You slowly get up, kneeling by my side, your eyes weary and your fingers still in your mouth. You say nothing, but you’re looking at me. I wonder what you’re thinking. I reciprocate the silence, still trying to hold on to what just was.
And then you say, “Chicken”.
You make your way off the bed and I follow behind you, your blanket dragging on the floor between us. And I feel like the luckiest mom in the world.
Love,
Mama
Side notes: Congrats to Nicole Weiss for winning the giveaway to Custom On It. I sent you an email 🙂
Also, I’ve been ping-ponging back and forth between 5th and 6th over on Top Baby Blog. If ya’ll wouldn’t mind throwing a vote my way, I would be filled to the brim with joy. Simply click on the link below and then on the brown box above the owl. You can vote daily, if you feel so inclined. Much love.

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Hooper @ 27 Months

by Ashley filed under Hooper
Growth & Appearance: Two more molars are making their way through. They didn’t seem to bother you much except for the fact you woke up with diarrhea that resulted in the worst diaper rash I’ve ever seen. You woke up crying in obvious pain and I found you on your bed on all fours. I cried too. It was so hard to see you in so much discomfort. I know, I’m such a sucker. When I removed your diaper, it looked as though you had laid under the sun, in the Sahara desert, with your legs spread wide open. The upside of it all was that it resulted in extra cuddles and it cleared significantly after a day or so of treatment. Those damn teeth…
You’re still in size 4 diaper/ size 2T undies, size 2-3T in everything else, and size 7 shoes. You have some great size 8 kicks waiting for you, so I’m eager for your feet to grow.
Eating: Note to self: If you go a full day with refusing to eat, assume you aren’t feeling well. It’s happened a few times now and your Papa and I go to bed so fed up and frustrated only to discover in the morning that you’re not feeling well or have teeth coming in. I feel like I say it every month, but I really do need to trust you to eat when you’re hungry and not eat when you’re not hungry. Note to self: my job is to provide you with healthy choices. Note to you: your job is to eat it. Capiche?
If we let you eat whatever you want whenever you want, you’d already be diabetic. You’re just like your Mama in that you like cupcakes, cookies, and all things breaded. I made you a belgium waffle the other morning and put some whip cream on it as an added treat. You proceeded to lick the whip cream off of each bite. I think you’re the only kid in town that would discard a waffle. I tried to get you to eat pancakes for the longest time and, now that you discovered it has the word “cake” in it, you like them. 
Talking: When we ask you what show you want to watch, you reply, “Cat-uh-hat”, but are unable to answer questions like “what’s your favorite color” or “what would you like to eat”. I suspect that’s just around the corner and I’ll have the video ready to record some of our what’s-sure-to-be captivating conversations.
You still use “hi” on a regular basis and it remains your go-to in uncomfortable situations or situations where you’re trying to accomplish something you know you shouldn’t. Like the other day, for instance, Papa left a chocolate chip cookie on his nightstand from the night before. You wiggled your way over to the nightstand and kept saying “hi” as you inched closer and closer. Then, when you got within reach, you glanced at the cookie then back at us and said “hi”. You sure know how to land a cookie into your mouth. Your cuteability is heart stopping.
You’ve started replying with “okay”, which has been entertaining.
You pronounce all your “S’s” as “F’s” so “sleeping” is “feeping” and “sock” is “fock”. Papa still makes you repeat “sock” a lot.
Things you say that we did not teach you that don’t make sense to anyone other than us. AKA, “Hooper Language”:
Blanket: Da-dgee
Motorcycle: Da!
Thank You: Deep
Fork: Bem-mee
Development: You love your balance bike, which you refer to as your “new bike”. This is because it came to us as a hand-me-down (thanks Kris) and I kept asking you what you thought of your “new bike”. Now, I’m pretty sure you think it is called “new bike” as opposed to just “bike”. Either way, you love to ride it around and have taken a few spills that don’t bother you much. The other day, you insisted in putting your bike in your wagon and then proceeded to pull your wagon around. Needless to say, you’re still entertained with putting things into other things and organizing different piles of things. On any given day and at any given time, our sofa is still covered with your cars neatly placed in separate piles or lines.
Potty training seemingly started slow but looking back in hindsight, it was rather easy. You haven’t had an accident for some time, but we haven’t ventured out in to public with just chonies just yet. You use your potty with ease when you’re home and naked. You refused to wear your chonies initially; apparently big boy batman undies mean nothing to a Cat in the Hat fan. Now I’ve gotten you to wear your chonies and for the most part you’ve transistioned well. You’ll grab your dong and announce, “pee pee”, signaling that it’s time to take you to the potty. You aren’t able to pull your own pants down yet, so you ask for help with this. It was relatively easy to get to this point, but we still have quite a few challenges: wearing chonies in public, using public restrooms, using an on-the-go potty, and wearing chonies for naps and at night. We’ll get there my young lad, we’ll get there.
You have a gentle and tentative nature. You enjoy jumping off surfaces, for example, but often need prompting to do it on your own. I’m probably the only mom in town encouraging her toddler to jump off the furniture by themselves. Don’t tell Papa.
You like to emulate your Papa by going around the house with your toy computer and toy phone and say, “Papa werking”. You’ll set up your little area complete with a pen and paper, phone, and computer. Oh my young little lad, have fun while you can. You can work later.
You counted to six clear as day the other day. Your Papa and I both looked at each other in disbelief, unsure of who taught you that… Until we realized all the time outs you’ve earned have actually taught you something; You may still spit and hit, but you’ve learned to count. I suppose you have to take the good with the bad.
We left you both with a babysitter for the first time this month. Your grandma and grandpa had watched you before but your Papa and I decided it was time to squeeze in more Papa & Mama time. You love your babysitter and had no problem with us leaving (you know her from your gym class).
For the most part, you do a good job of entertaining yourself. Once you get going, you can play with your cars on your own for an hour or more. You like lining them up and organizing them into different areas, but what’s new?
Favorites: Your cars make the cut each and every time, it seems. You also love your “new bike” (aka your balance bike) and pretty much anything else with wheels that goes. You also like Dr. Seuss books and the Cat in the Hat cartoon. We’ve started making forts, which you love. Currently our forts consist of lying on your bed with your big blanket over us like a tent; you have no idea what kind of forts are sure to be in your future. Just wait until you see what a cardboard box can do!

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Two.

by Ashley filed under Hooper, Motherhood, Parenting
Hooper has changed overnight. Like seriously, he’s a new kid. I started writing a post on the “terrible twos” just two days ago and it’s already outdated as I described him from being far from “terrible”. Today, he’s all kinds of terrible. I feel as though the toddler gods fill you up with all kinds of love and attachment and patience during the first two years because they know you’ll need to pull some from your reserves when your child turns two and you don’t like them anymore. I called Hooper an asshole today. Not to his face, of course, but more times than I should have behind his back.
What kind of behavior warrants calling your two year old an asshole, you wonder? I’ve been smacked in the face. A lot. It almost always occurs when I’m holding him and looking for a little affection; Affection he used to give me all the time. It also happens when I drop down to his level to put him in check. There’s nothing more infuriating than scolding your child only to get smacked in the face as if to say, “Yeah mom, I heard what you said but please allow my hand across your face to remind you that I don’t give a shit”. I’ve had to take a lot of deep breaths these last few days.
Other things he’s doing that are pissing me off and making me turn to wine at the end of the day even though I feel like turning to a whole bottle of wine to start my day (and yes, that is intentionally a run-on sentence): Throwing toys, spitting, spitting out his milk, taking toys from his brother, hitting Sarah, and kicking me while changing his diaper. He has also started to fold his arms across his chest as if to say, “Go suck a dick, I’m not happy”, only he still uses this body language at inappropriate times so I guess it’s still endearing; but the endearing part is still debatable.
Much of parenting is a learn-as-you-go process. We had been punishing him by putting him in the corner and calmly explaining that we can’t hit or throw or whatever. Then we’d count to ten and end the time out with a hug, after making him say “sorry”. I no longer have the patience to calmly scold; now I put him in the corner and yell, for emphasis ya know? But clearly, it’s not working. Counting to ten has done nothing other than teach him how to count. Seriously, he counted clear as day to six yesterday. That’s probably when his attention span runs out, otherwise he’d know that seven ate nine. So, I turn to my lovely readers for the touchy subject of how to discipline your lovely toddler. Please share your opinions and suggestions.
Hey Hooper, just for the record, Van is my new favorite. Shape up, you little asshole.

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On Loving a Second

by Ashley filed under Family, Hooper, Motherhood, Parenting, Van

Ready for a dose of honesty? It took me longer to love Van than it did Hooper. I was a bit surprised by it because everything I read, prior to giving birth, talked about how your love multiplies rather than divides and blah blah blah. It wasn’t like that for me; not right away, at least.
When I was handed Hooper, on the operating room table, I loved him instantly. I immediately felt protective. And despite his swollen face and cone shaped head, I thought he was the most beautiful thing alive.
None of this is to say that my love for Van wasn’t instant as well. It was. I felt protective of him too. But there was a difference.
I learned, through loving Hooper, that my capacity for love on the day he was born piddled in comparison to the love I had for him just a few months later. It’s like the song says, I love him more today than yesterday but not as much as tomorrow.
So when Van was born, I loved him, but I knew that love would only grow bigger; I knew the love I had that day was naive to the love it would grow to be.
And I was right. Because the love I have for this little guy today blows any emotion that I referred to as love before out of the water. Right around the third to fourth month of life, he stole my heart. And now, at six months, he owns me.
And two more, for the sake of love and war:

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Round Two.

by Ashley filed under Hooper, Parenting

Things I’ve said a lot of this week: “Sarah, stop licking Hooper’s butt” and “Hooper, stop touching your dong”. Here’s the recap:
Day #1
We started the day by collecting his diapers and throwing them into the trash. Hoop enjoyed this. Then we spent the morning watching cartoons while he sat on his potty. I fed him breakfast, on his potty. At some point, probably after an hour of sitting there, he stood up and pointed to the potty. Inside, there was urine. We celebrated. We high-fived. He got a piece of candy. We called Papa at work. Then he played. I reminded him of the potty and told him if he wanted more candy, he had to make piss in the potty. Then the fly by happened.
What’s the fly by, you ask? He literally flew by the potty, stuck his butt in it’s direction, and shot (and I mean shot as in like a bullet from a gun) a large size piece of shit out of his butt. The log struck the side of the toilet and streaked it’s way down to the floor. I told him to step away as I could tell he wanted to sit on the potty. He ran off in excitement and pissed in the corner. He may have pissed in the potty had I not shooed him away.
Nonetheless, there were hits and there were misses. It was day one. There was cheers and candy and there was paper towels and vinegar. All in all, a success. A start. 
Day #2
I had intended to sacrifice three full days to only potty training. But, alas, life happens and staying home for three days straight doesn’t always work out. I had a commitment to keep, so on went the diaper so my mom could take Hoop to his little class and I could go fulfill my obligation. After his morning nap, potty training reconvened. He sat on the potty long enough to eventually pee in it and we jumped for excitement once again. I gave him a piece of candy and on he went to play with his cars.
I reminded him of the potty often and used candy as encouragement. At one point he went over on his own and sat on the toilet, stood up a minute later and yelled, “yeah guys!”. I looked in the pot and there was nothing there. As he scampered away, however, I noticed some shit stuck between his cheeks. Then he straddled his bike and got shit on his bike. Then he poked the shit on his bike seat with his finger. So… not exactly a slam dunk, but definite progress. The realization that I will eventually have to teach him to wipe his butt dawned on me and the idea of keeping him in diapers fo’ life started to become more dreamy than ever.
Then he peed on the sofa. And later, again, on the floor. And that was day two.
Day #3
We spent the morning watching cartoons while sitting on the potty. I’m getting cartooned out, by the way. I hate relying on that thing, but it has been a good facilitator for potty training. I also googled “How to potty train” for the first time and can’t say I learned anything I didn’t instinctively already know. Anyway, I fed him breakfast while he sat on the potty. He got up a few times to play and would sporadically come back to the potty to sit down on his own. At one point, you could hear piss shooting into the pot and we both looked at each other with wild excitement. There wasn’t a whole lot of pee and I came to the conclusion that the excitement of it all must have stopped him mid-stride. We celebrated. He immediately said, “Can-dee, can-dee”. He’s part human, part Pavlov’s dog. Even more than the candy, I learned, he likes helping me clean up; dumping the piss into the toilet, spraying the potty with vinegar (101 uses for vinegar, right?), and flushing the toilet. I also gave him a sticker (thanks @lishyloo) and not but 5 minutes later he sat down and peed again, presumably finishing his job prior. Either that or he’s getting too smart and has learned to segment his piss to get more treats. Two year olds sure have a way of pulling the fast ones on us, don’t they? In any case, we celebrated again and cleaned up again.
Day #4 and onward
I’ll spare you the day by day shenanigans because while some seem to say “it took 3 days and that was that”, I can tell that won’t be the case for us. For starters, he naps a lot. I’m talking like he still takes a FOUR hour nap during the day and sometimes another two hour nap in the evening. I know, I know, he sleeps a lot. And, no, he does not have chronic fatigue syndrome. I laughed when someone had suggested that. I digress, but the naps make it difficult to potty train if I’m constantly slapping a diaper on for him to sleep in. Sometimes he only pisses one time before he’s ready to sleep again. So I only get so many opportunities in a day to potty train. And I’m not comfortable, yet, to leave the house without a diaper on. Wow, I just re-read that sentence and now it sounds like I’m the incontinent one. Let me re-phrase that: I’m not comfortable, yet, to leave the house without a diaper on Hooper. Whew, I feel better now that I made that correction. So, I don’t know. That’s where we’re at. I suppose I’ll keep going with the naked thing for the time that we’re home and awake and then, when he has a better grasp on that concept, I’ll start swapping out the diaper with the undies. What do ya’ll think? Is that a good plan? I will say, however, that by day 5 he was 4 for 4 and has not had an accident since. So, perhaps we are getting somewhere. Now we just need to work on clothing him once again and encouraging him to communicate that he’s gotta go… Round three will be coming your way.
You can read about round one here.

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Hooper @ 26 Months

by Ashley filed under Hooper
Growth & Appearance: You got your third ever hair cut this month. You look like a young man. Your Papa misses your long hair. I, however, don’t miss brushing out the dread lock that forms in the back from bed head. We’ll probably let it grow out again until it’s too annoying to manage and then we’ll cut it again. Your hair seems to be coming in a little darker and I’m curious if this will stay or if it will turn blond again during the summer. Either way, it’s still blond on top.
Eating: I worry less about your eating these days. People keep telling me kids don’t die of starvation and I’m starting to believe them. You will eat what you will eat and that’s that. Even with this new found peace there are annoying evenings where the table is still a battlefield. I think your Papa has a harder time letting go of the control than I do. I fear turning eating into a battle for independence and this has fueled my “let it be” campaign. Go eat shit, for all I care. I kid. I give you healthy choices and if you don’t eat what I make, better luck with the next meal. I’m trying my best to keep to this notion, anyhow.
We’ve started allowing you to eat in the big boy chair so that we can put your brother in the high chair. Not that Van eats anything, but it’s nice to have him at the table with us anyway. You can drink from a cup but tend to knock it over at some point during your meal by accident so more times than not we give you a sippy cup or bottle to make life easier on us. You like to eat with a fork. Scratch that. You like the idea of eating with a fork, which by the way you call a “bee-me”. Instead of using it, you usually hold it in one hand while you feed yourself with the other. Either way, as soon as we sit down for a meal you demand your “bee-me” (fork).
You’re going through a phase where you think it’s entertaining to spit your foot out. We were at a restaurant when you unloaded a mouthfull of food to the side of your highchair. It was so random that your Papa and I made the mistake of laughing. As you went to do it again, we realized instantly we made a big mistake. You’ve done it a few times since but each time has landed you in the corner. The battle at the table continues. I suppose it’s our first lesson as parents that we can’t laugh at ridiculous behavior. Please know we aren’t bumps on a log. We do find things funny, only we giggle about it all later. 
Sleeping: I had another mom ask me if you had “chronic fatigue syndrome” after I told her how much you sleep. You are hardly the low energy kinda kid that label makes you out to be. You do, however, sleep a lot. You go down for the night around 9:30pm and sleep until 8:30 or 9 am. Then you nap from 11ish to 2ish and again from 5:30pm to 7:30pm. That’s a total of about 16 hours of sleep in a 24 hour period. The other eight hours of the day are spent trying to feed you. Needless to say, with your nap schedule and eating nightmare, it’s difficult to plan any extended outing.
We’ve finally added a blanket to your bed. Breaking news, right? We hesitated for a long time, worried you’d get stuck under the blanket or some other ridiculous catastrophe would occur. We’ve gotten over our stupid fears and, as a result, you’re warmer at night. You’re welcome. You refer to your trusty blanket as your “da-dee” and the blanket on your bed as your “big da-dee”. You now require both of them to sleep at night.
Talking: You pronounce “soccor” as “f&*#er”, so needless to say, your Papa makes you repeat it over and over. You also pronounce “sock” as “f#&k” so your Papa has you repeat this over and over too. It’s how we entertain ourselves on Friday nights these days. Don’t judge. You also like to add “uh” on the end of lots of different words. For example, you told your arms up toward me and say “hold-uh” when you want me to hold you or “boo-kah” when you want me to read you a book.
You’re either very polite or you think the word for “help” is “help please” because whenever you want help with anything you say, “hell-peez”. It’s very endearing and I like to fool myself into thinking I am raising a very polite little man. In reality, I’m pretty sure you think it’s one word that, when said, leads to getting something  you want.
You have begun answering some questions. When we asked you a question before, you used to simply repeat the most emphasized word in the question. Now, the wheels spin and out pops an appropriate answer. It’s the beginning of the voice of your imagination and I can’t wait to get to know it better.
You have a lisp when you say your S’s. It’s cute now but it won’t be cute later. Speech therapy may be in your future. 
Development: You still appear to be left footed. When you romp around in circles, you lead with your left food. And when you mount a bike you lift your right leg over, bearing your weight on your left leg. You still write predominantly with your left hand but feed yourself with your right.
A new molar came in. Not sure how that little rascal snuck in under our radar but it may explain the prior runny nose and two day span where it seemed like you didn’t want to eat anything. Then again, those fussy eating days happen more times than not. There was also that day where you slept until I woke you up at 1pm. If every tooth comes with that kinda mama time, I hope you get teeth all the way down your throat. That’s a weird image. Okay, I digress. 
Favorites: You’re more into reading books than ever before and like reading them again and again. You’re still a big fan of your cars, which are always lined up across the sofa making sitting on the thing virtually impossible. Sarah has taken to napping on our bed now that the sofa is preoccupied. You also got a balance bike as a hand-me-down from a friend and like to walk the thing all around the house, letting everyone know about your “new bike”. The Cat in the Hat is your new favorite cartoon, compliments of potty training. That damn TV always seems to be a tool for something; if it’s not eating, it’s potty training. One day we’ll leave it off for good. Hopefully soon.

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Round One.

by Ashley filed under Hooper, Motherhood, Parenting

So I was motivated to start potty training last week. Yes, I’m already speaking in the past tense. Hooper was ready. I, however, was not.
I remember when we first brought Sarah home. She was three months and we trained her to sleep in a crate. Every morning there would be piss and shit in her crate until we decided we would take turns getting up at 2am to let her out to pee. Eventually she caught on and after a while she was able to hold it until morning. It really wasn’t so difficult, in the end.
Fast forward to two kids later.
I opted to go the naked route, at first. I brought the potty out and sat it in the middle of the room and for the first hour it seemed all we talked about was the potty. I repetitively asked him if he wanted to use it. I encouraged him to sit down on it. I gave him a piece of candy to try to keep him on it. And then he pissed in the corner.
I cleaned it up and thought maybe it would be better to put underwear on him so he could feel what it’s like to be wet. And then he pissed while riding his toy car around.
And then I realized I was too tired from being up the night before with Van and I put a diaper on. Someone please send the bad mom award this way. I know consistency is key so I’m going to tackle it another day… when I have more energy and patience and a few consecutive days off work in a row to really give it the good ol’ fashion try. So yeah, along with the bad mom award can you also send energy, patience, and consecutive days off work?
Looking at my little boy in those undies might be the biggest motivator of all…
And… I do have some consecutive days off work this week, so  round 2 is currently in progress. Wish me luck. And share any tips. I have no idea what I’m doing…

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Then & Now

by Ashley filed under Hooper, Then & Now, Van

When I became a mom for the first time, within a few months, it was almost impossible to remember what my life was like before I became a mother. Now I’m a mother to two and it’s difficult to remember, just a year and then some later, what it was like when Hooper was a baby. It’s difficult to remember how we spent our days together, difficult to remember the way he moved, difficult to remember the little details that were then our everyday life.
Mothering Van has provided me with a glimpse of who Hooper once was and I’m reminded all over again how fast they grow, change, and evolve. Every mom says it and every mom means it, but it’s absolutely ridiculous how fast the time goes.
I was going through some old photos of Hooper and came across the one above of him playing with my old fisher price spin toy. He was 21 weeks in the photo, right aroundd the age Van is today. It gave me a bad case of deja vu as just the other day Van took interest in the same toy. It’s the first toy I remember Hooper playing with and now the first toy that has captured Van’s attention as well.

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Brothers

by Ashley filed under Hooper, Motherhood, Van

When I started Hooper’s baby book, in the first month of documentation, I made a list. I’m not type A, by the way, but I do love me some lists. The first list I started was “Things I can’t wait for”. The list included things like reading him his favorite book, hearing his voice, giving him food for the first time (turns out, if I could go back in time, I would have taken that off the list. Total flunk. Totally overrated. Feeding him sucks and now I “can’t wait” until he’s responsible for feeding himself. I digress). In making the list, I realized that what I was doing was dangerous. The moment they are in right now gets overlooked if you’re constantly looking toward the future. So my intention was to get a quick “can’t wait” list out of the way so I could get back to soaking up all the spit up that was indeed my reality at the time. And is now my reality once again.
With two boys, the list of “can’t waits” has transformed to include things that involve both of them. Things on the list today include:
-Building forts
-Overhearing their silly conversations
-Going to a baseball game
-Hearing them bicker and then hearing them stop bickering
-Meeting their mutual friends
-Taking them fishing
-Selling something on the side of the road (hopefully not their bodies or souls. I’m talking about lemonade people, or firewood, or painted rocks)
-Should I dare to hope for a performance of some kind? A brotherly puppet show production, per say? Yes, yes, I can’t wait for that too.
Now back to enjoying this very moment.
How ’bout you? What’s on your “can’t wait” list?

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YOLO

by Ashley filed under Hooper

Funny things have been happening around these parts. Someone has become quite the Mister Casanova, swooping in on the little ladies and planting kisses on their sweet soft cheeks. Who is this boy? I mean check out his eyes… they’re closed. He ain’t messin’ around. Need a kiss? Come on over; someone in this house is eager to plant a little sumptim sumptim on your face. Dear Hooper, kiss em’ while you can… You only live once.
I could eat him. I really could. Kisses so sweet they’ll steal your soul, I swear. And with that, I wish ya’ll a Happy New Year.

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Hooper @ 25 Months

by Ashley filed under Hooper
Growth & Appearance: Still in size 4 diapers. It feels like I’m going to be saying that forever. Size 7 shoes. 2T pants fit but will be too short soon enough. 2T shirts are perfect. You’re due for another hair cut as soon as I can get my ish together. 
Eating: There were a few days we questioned if you weren’t feeling well. You slept one day until one in the afternoon and had a little bit of throw up on your blanket. This was followed by two or three days of horrible eating despite a chipper mood. You’ve been better the past few days so I guess we’ll give you a pass and chalk it up to you not feeling well. Your eating, in general, still sucks. There are good days and there are bad days. The bad days are terrible.
Here are some things you enjoy:
Breakfast- Oatmeal, yogurt, cottage cheese, cereal, eggs, berries
Lunch- Avocado sandwich, PJ sandwich, grilled cheese or quesadilla on flax seed tortilla, deli meat
Dinner- Veggie burgers, breaded chicken, peas and corn
Development: You love jumping off things. You like to climb on top of the ottoman in Van’s room and jump off. You don’t push off two feet quite yet. You also enjoy galloping, spinning around in circles, and jumping on your bed and on the sofa. You like to play the “dark game”, where we go into your room, close the door, and turn off the light at-which-point you proclaim, “dark”. You also have an understanding of what it means to be happy and are quick to proclaim “haw-pee” when you hear music or see people dancing. You graduated from standing in your bath to swimming, completely bypassing the whole sitting stage. You’re either up on your feet or down on your belly. 
Favorites: You’d watch TV all day if we let you. Though you usually lose interest at some point. It’s been a good distraction while I’m busy feeding Van but it’s probably my least favorite thing so we’ve been limiting TV time significantly. With that said, you’re still obsessed with your cars and lining them up everywhere. I must clean the sofa off daily only to find it filled with cars again moments later. 
Talking: You’re putting a lot of words together. Most of your sentences begin with “mama” or “papa” and end with something like shoe, or car, or eye. You’ve also become quite literal, quick to point out what things are as you pass them as if the world is one big game of pictionary. The other day we went outside and you pointed out the rocks, and sky, and trees, and leaves, and grass. You said your first three word sentence the other day when you noticed Papa’s car was missing, “Paw-pa ka bye”, said with a noticeable pause and stutter between each word. Your brain is running the race much faster than your mouth. Your mouth is like the fat kid slowing to a fast walk every 50 feet. The result is the silliest stutter I ever did hear. It’s quite endearing. It goes something like this: “Papa kar. Pa Papa kar. (pause). Papa k-kar. Papa (pause) kar (pause) bye”.
I’ve said it in the months prior, but we are in a state of a language explosion. Everyday your Papa and I look to one another and ask, “Did you teach him that?” And we always look at each other dumbfounded. Like the other day when you picked up your toy syringe (I know, future addict, right?) and came up and pushed it into my butt (I know, my butt of all places?) and said “sshhhot”. 
Sleeping: You’re still taking two naps a day and both naps are taken in your playpen, which we have smack dab in the middle of your room so it’s just out of reach of your drawers. We learned the hard way when we came in to find you napping on top of a pile of your diapers you had removed from your dresser drawer. You nap well, but apparently you need to be held prisoner to fall asleep. You do well sleeping in your bed during the night and often climb out of bed and jiggle your door handle to let us know you are awake. Much to my dismay, you’ve figured out how to open the door to your room from the inside. You’ve done this once and once only. I’m hoping the fact you escaped totally slipped your mind. I guess we should get one of those safety door knob things soon. Why can’t they make a giant bed belt that just kinda straps you in? What’s that you say? It’s called a crib? Oh yes, you’re right. Too bad your parents were too cheap to go out and buy another one. Hash tag: Regretting that decision. Not really though. You’re pretty cute in your big boy bed. You sleep about 16 hours in a 24 hour period.

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M-I-C-see ya real soon-K-E-Y

by Ashley filed under Hooper

Disney has it all figured out. It’s like visual heroin. Every time I wear my Mickey sweatshirt, Hoop loses it. And by lose it, I mean he squeals with excitement. He’s never watched a Disney show and has never seen Mickey anywhere other than on my sweatshirt and on an old plastic plate we have. He’s gonna lose his mind when he learns he’s an actual character and that there’s a girl version too and, oh ya, that there’s this little amusement park dedicated to him just a drive away. I bought him a vintage Mickey shirt some time ago and when I pulled it out of his closet the other day, he gave the shirt a hug and kiss. This was preceded, of course, by excited squealing. Before we had kids, Willy and I would conjure up ridiculous plots to avoid having to go to Disneyland. One of these plots included paying Mickey to say mean things to our kid so he/she would never want to go back. Though now, I must admit, his excitement is contagious. It’s true that you live somewhat through your children, cuz part of me can’t wait to introduce him to the land that attaches to Disney. I mean, seriously, this kid is going to go nuts when he meets Mickey in the flesh and blood… or cotton suit and mouse ears. Or whatever.  Click To Vote For Us @ Top Baby Blogs Directory!

Hooper @ 24 Months

by Ashley filed under Hooper
Growth: You weigh 28 pounds (50th percentile), are 35 1/4 inches tall (70th percentile), and your noggin is 19 1/4 inches (60th percentile). Your height and head circumference are in the same percentile as your 18 month checkup. Your weight has jumped percentiles (you were in the 30th). Guess chasing you around with a spoonful of food has paid off. You’re welcome. Though it’s been a real pain in my ass.
 Appearance: You had your second hair cut ever this month. You got to sit on a fake motorcycle while the fortune teller of a hairdresser made predictions about your hair. She says you will not be blond. She also says you have tons and tons of hair coming in and are destined to have very thick hair. Her certainty about it all kinda made me want to ask her about other things in life like what your favorite color will be when your ten years old. You know, the important stuff.
Your fingers are hyper-extended like mine. When I was little, I used to bend my index finger back and tuck it under a rubber band so that straight on it appeared that I only had four fingers. This was my absolute favorite trick for a long, long time. I hope you can carry on my four finger legacy.
Feeding: I’m considering starting a series entitled, “Toys at the Table”. That’s because, as of late, toys have been a great utensil. And by utensil I mean a tool used to feed. So in addition to the overly used fork and knife, at our table you will also find a slinky and a puppet. The puppet has been our saving grace. So effective that I’m considering building a chair just for it to join us at mealtime. As soon as that thing goes over our hand, your mouth opens. You enjoy pretending to feed it too. Sometimes we’ll use the laptop to play videos to distract you while you eat. Gangnam Style and the parody Hot Dog Condom Style are sure bets. You eat, without any hesitation, whenever either of these videos are playing.
You ate an entire serving of tilapia the other night, your first time agreeing to eat fish. That’s the first “new” thing we’ve tried in a while, as we’ve given in to keeping your meals relatively routine, rotating amongst the six or so different meals you “like”.
You also eat your own boogers.
I asked your Papa his input for this section. Here’s what he had to say: “It sucks”.
Developmental: I’m still stickin’ to the fact you are left handed. You hold a pencil, every time, with your left hand. You use your right, however, to eat and do some other random things.
You know the colors pink, green, brown, blue, and yellow though more times than not you refer to everything as “boo” aka blue.
You’re still quite bossy. My favorite move as of late is when you pat the sofa and say “bay-bee, bay-bee”, instructing me to put the baby down. After I set Van down, you grab my hand and yank me around to whatever it is you want. Usually you want to go to the front yard.
You jump well. The sofa cushions will never be the same. Neither will your head when you inevitably fall off the sofa from jumping on it one of these days. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
On any given day, you can still find a line of cars somewhere. Be it on the table, the sofa, or on the floor it comes with a guarantee that there will be a line of cars. 
Talking: I wound up your little Mickey mouse toy and as Mickey scooted across the floor, you proclaimed “cooool” for the first time. So apparently, in addition to knowing a new word, you also have ideas and preferences and things you consider cool. Where or where did my baby go?
You say way too many words to keep track of. You’ll repeat just about anything we ask you to say.
You are limited to two sentences: “doo doo, papa” (when Papa farts) and “mama car” (when you see a car that resembles mine).
You pronounce your name as “Ha-poo”. Though more times than not, when we ask you what your name is, you reply with “me”.
You also started raising both palms up to the air as if asking a question as to where something went or what something is. It’s pretty cute.
Sleeping: Day light savings began and all the sudden you get up early. Not sure if the time change has anything to do with it, but you’re not going to bed any later than before so it doesn’t logically make any sense. I’ve always considered myself lucky for having a child that slept and napped so well. It seemed only fair that if you were gonna be a horrible eater that you would be a terrific sleeper. As of late, I’m not sure where that good sleeper went. You used to get up around 9am. The last few mornings you’ve gotten up at 7:30am. One morning you got up at 6:30am. You’re still napping one to two times a day. Some days you nap for two others, other days you nap for four. If we’re home, you’ll take a second nap for about an hour or two. If we’re out and about, you deal fine without the nap.
You’re still very attached to your blanket. It gets dragged around the house daily. It has a clone for when one it’s too dirty. We keep it’s clone a secret. You also like all your stuffed animals on your bed when you go to sleep. Ain’t nothing so sweet as coming into your room and watching you sleep curled up with your blanket in a sea of smurfs, clowns, and monsters. 
Favorites: You love running. The pitter patter of your steps kills me. When your “na na” comes over, you have the best time chasing her around the house. You’re also still a fan of stupid Yo Gabba Gabba. I can’t wait until you have a concept of death so I can lie to you and convince you that all the characters have died. Maybe I should win you a gold fish at a carnival. Those die fast. Then we could have the whole lesson on death. Fortunately, you love books to so I do my best to offer to read to you instead of turning the TV on. It works sometimes. Other times you stalk me with the remotes in your hands until I give in to your annoying persistence. Other things you love include walking around the house with our shoes on, putting my bracelets on your wrist, pretending to swim in the bath, and candy (thanks a lot Halloween).

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