table manners

I realize it's a little late in the game to be teaching a little boy table manners, but better late than never. Right?

Over the months, we've been letting a lot of little things slide when it came to his eating habits, and they've gradually developed into some rather unacceptable behavior. Typically at meal or snack time, we (the parents) would set his food on the bare table in front of him like when he was in a high chair, sometimes in a bowl, and he would eat with his hands. When he got bored with that he'd smear it around and throw it on the floor, we'd get after him and move on to whatever else was on the menue. He was also constantly grazing, especially since he learned that if he said the word "bite" (which he is very good at now) and hovered around the refrigerator or cupboards, he was likely to get something to munch on. His favorite treats are pickles ("poo-koo") and olives ("ouv"). Go figure, the two foods I can't stand. Also crackers ("ka-kah"), which consist of Ritz, saltines, and graham, as well as chips, and pretzels.

When it came to drinks, no matter what you gave him and in what kind of cup, he was guaranteed to make a mess unless constantly monitored. A simply cup with a lid and straw would be tipped upside-down and shaken until all the contents were on the table (or floor and couch, if he was portable). Sometimes he'd figure out how to pop the lid off entirely so he could drink like a big boy, and that was an even bigger disaster. When we switched to spill-proof cups, he found a sneaky, more creative way - he'd drink the milk/juice/water/smoothie and then promptly spit it back out, down his clothes, onto the table, into a cup... Needless to say, I've been doing a lot of mopping.




It certainly doesn't help that his favorite game is to move things from one container to another, over and over again. This includes toys, food, and yes, liquids - hence, the origin of most of his messes. I realize that's part of babydom: playing with whatever's in the arsenal, exploring different possibilities, and repet, repeat, repeat. The part that I'm not okay with is him thinking he can waste food and give me so much extra work cleaning up and trying to figure out what else to feed him, because when he's begging for food or drink an hour later, I have very little sympathy for him. Just enough to do my best to accomodate him, which I'm sure is why he knows his scheming works, and he has me in the palm of his little chubby hands.

So we're trying something different. Plates! and silverware! This way he can feel like he's independant and see what he's expected to eat, and we can see what he actually has eaten instead of trying to judge based on how much food is on the floor. This was one thing I dislike most about our old methods - not knowing if he'd had enough to eat or not. Sometimes at the end of the day, I'd ask myself "What has he really eaten today?" What do you do when a kid refuses everything you offer him? You put your foot down and just let him learn his lesson? Well I guess we'll give it a try.



(Our secret for getting Caleb to smile for posed shots is to ask him "Where are your teeth?"... which is why we get a lot of cheesey -looking grins like this. Some of them look more natural than others.)



Things have been going a little more smoothly since we started this method, but he still has trouble using a fork and spoon (though he insists on trying and won't hardly eat with his hands anymore), he tries to be like Daddy and stab at his food (which never works), and he has a tendancy to flip his plate clean over.



In the last month or so, we've been experimenting with wheat and oatmeal (we used to avoid feeding him either because he used to have a really bad rash, and they seemed to be related), and it turns out he's not allergic to either. Hallelujah! It makes it SO much easier to pick out foods for him, especially since he can usually just eat a little of what Mommy and Daddy are eating instead of us having to make him something special.

Here's our little man eating his first real PB&J. He has something against certain kinds of foods, and for whatever reason, sandwhiches seem to fall under that category. He wouldn't even consider eating it until I smeared some jam on his lip and he realized the contents of that sandwhich were delicious, and even then he only ate part of it. He kept trying to "share" with me. He's actually really good at sharing, especially when it comes to fruit snacks :).

About once a month, without any warning, he gets bored with his go-to foods, the ones we feed him pretty much every day because we know he'll eat them, and we have to think of something else to give him. At the moments, string cheese, turkey dogs, crackers, anything mushy, and pretty much all fruit has just expired (vegetables went a while ago), so we're being forced to get creative.

Last night, after a very necessary trip to Golden Corral, where they're sure to have something Caleb will eat, we got a few things for him that I think will be instant favorites. I'm especially excited about the Fruit-Fusion juice (100% veggie and fruit juice), and especially the enriched vegetable wacky noodles. We'll see how he likes those. Luckily, I think I can count on a few things a little longer, like cereals and sweet potato fries, and he still likes milk. And at least I can HOPE that these eating habits of his are going to get better.

Tantrums...

... are here.

mowing

Sometimes we take care of the yard work while Caleb's napping, so we don't have to constantly chase him around to keep him from playing in the street, or covering himself in dirt ("dut"), or soaking himself in the pool of water he makes when he turns the water spigot on full blast, or petting the neighborhood dogs, which are neither friendly nor clean... and so he's not wandering into the long, tick-infested grass nearby. It's just easier when we know he's sound asleep in his bed, in his air-conditioned room.

Other times, we know he's aching to get out of the house and play. Sure he gets hot and sweaty and filthy, and he throws a fit when we have to go back inside, but he has so much fun out there, it's not too hard to give in. Mostly he entertains himself with activities listed above, but he also really likes to help with whatever we're doing. On this day, we discovered a silly use for that myserious bar that most push-behind mowers have in their mid-section. It's so little boys can do a little pushing of their own.



He's so happy to be contributing. It was pretty hard to turn around and maneuver corners with him down there, so it was slow going, but he sure was enjoying himself, and we got several smiles out of it too!




He'd take a break once in a while to investigate a stick or a butterfly or a mushroom ("Please don't eat it! It's orange... that can't be a good sign"), but the he'd come back and do some hard labor. As you can see below, he didn't even stop to eat his mini-bagel - just took the thing along with hi, nibbling on it for a bit then shoving the rest of it in his mouth so he could have both hands free to MOW!

So serious! What a goober.

Of course, mowing isn't his only specialty. He also likes to rake, and occasionally aerate patches of dirt if we're going to plant grass. He even spread some seed with me last time. Now that was a good time.

little sneak

Since Caleb learned to climb on things a few weeks ago, he's been getting into a lot of trouble. If it's a first offense, we try to be easy on him, but if he knows it's wrong (and we know he knows), it's really infuriating, especially when he could get hurt, or get ahold of something he shouldn't.

For a while, his favorite trick was getting on the couch and magically appearing on the ground beside the armrest, which, given the old location of our kitchen table, required some serious acrobatics. Now he's seeking greener pastures, climbing onto the chairs to get to the kitchen table. He'll usually play with the pepper shaker (inevitably followed by a fit of the most adorable sneezes), or ransack the secret hiding place for his pacifiers (that top right drawer behind him), which is fairly harmless. But of course, the one day I have a chocolate mousse pie to divvy up between the adults, someone gets to it first.

What a little sneak! I had to let him have some fun with it, and take a few pictures, of course, and then he was reprimanded accordingly - "Caleb, please don't climb." But the worst punishment I could've ever given him was taking that pie away. Boy, was he MAD!

I'd like to say I learned my lesson not to leave anything where he might possibly get to it, but he's big enough to get into the junk drawer where we keep our scissors, the dishwasher where we often have knives, and the edge of the countertops where there are sometimes heavy, sharp, raw, or otherwise not-good-for-a-baby items. After one or two knife-in-hand incidents (which after confiscating said knife I proceeded to have a heart attack) and a dozen foreign-objects-being-inserted-into-ear incidents, I've decided that no amount of baby-proofing is going to be enough. I just have to constantly keep an eye on him.

revealing images

Caleb has this Little People, Big Discoveries DVD that came with a toy set Gran got him for Easter. We never put it on for him much until we moved into this house, and we'd occasionally put it on after his Your Baby Can Read programs. Then I learned that if I put it on the French or Spanish version, I could repeat it several times and actually get some work done around the house. Pretty soon he was the one asking for "Mo'... mo'... mo'..." That is until the disc fell on the ground one day and by trying to pick it up, he rubbed it on our hardwood floors and rendered it unplayable.

But I'm not here to tell you about Les Petit Peuple, Les Grandes Decouvertes. That was just to explain the image on the TV in the picture below. I'm here to share a few very silly pictures.

Right now, I had just witnessed Caleb remove himself from the sleeve of his long-sleeved onesie, for no apparent reason.



Minutes later, he ran away from me while I was changing his diaper.



How could I NOT take pictures?



Actually, this reminds me of a picture sequence from Halloween when I was... 5, I think.

Doesn't leave much for the imagination, does it?

toddler bed

On the subject of moving Caleb out of a crib and into a toddler bed, I myself have been planning to wait until we move back to Washington and get settled into our house/apartment in Bellingham, so we can deal with all the transitions at the same time. Instead or drawing them out and having several difficult weeks, maybe we'd only have a few while he was getting used to all the new stuff.



However, since Michael was gone for all of Caleb's other major milestones (first haircut, first words, self-feeding, sign language, sleep training, walking), he was excited to go ahead with this one. So we bought our 18-month-old a "big kid's bed" and tried it out.

The first nap was a disaster, mostly because he just didn't want to sleep. And I don't think he liked the mattress on his new bed; the one in his crib was much firmer. Any other day he would've just stayed it his crib, contently talking or singing until he decided he wanted out, or to take a snooze afterall. This time he could get out of his bed and cry at the door, and he did so, even after a few visits from me and Michael, putting him back down and reminding him it was time to go "night-night." Needless to say, he never slept, and we went on with our day debating whether to switch back to his crib, or stick it out.

That night, however, he was so tuckered out that after a proper bedtime routine (and swapping mattresses), he layed right down and passed out. We were so happily surprised that we decideded it might be for the best afterall, and slept through the night without any incident.



Our thoughts on the benefit of a toddler bed are that he can sit down in it with us to read his books for bedtime, then lay right down and go to sleep. Then when he wakes up, he can hop out of bed (without injury) and entertain himself for as long as he wants, giving me and Michael a more gradual start to the morning. We definitely wanted to beat him to the punch before he could climb out of his crib by himself (or attempt to), which seemed an eminent danger.

Sometimes he'll stay in his room for up to an hour before wanting out. We know he's at his limit when he tries to open the door, and if we don't respond to that, he'll throw books at it! One night he decided he didn't want to go to sleep yet, so he attempted, and succeeded in escaping from his room three times in a matter of five minutes, even after we made sure the door was all the way closed, and he didn't just pull on it. That means he's capable of opening doors now, and a child-proof handle was definitely going on his!

The final problem we've run into is getting him to actually stay in bed when he's supposed to. He still tosses around a bit in the night, so he's often in some pretty goofy positions when we go to check on him. Then there are the nights when he gets out of bed, plays around for a while (or screams in angst), then eventually decides he's tired... but he doesn't quite make it to the bed. The first time it happened was hilarious (picture below), but the recurring theme requres us to peek in after these episodes so we can move him.

A couple times we found him asleep on the floor, and one time he was right in front of the door! Not sure how we solved that problem... Let's just say Caleb in his big boy bed, is a work in progress.

dirty, filthy love

Caleb really loves picking up rocks and splashing in puddles, mushing up dirt in his bare hands, and just getting down and dirty. Normally I ask him to keep it at a minimum so there isn't as much to clean up when he's done, but today... I decided to be a good mother and just let him have at it.

Brown shorts were a must for this adventure. Ewwwww!

Oh, and this is my favorite dog in the neighborhood. There are about a dozen mutts (along with a pure rottweiler) running around this place, and they drive us crazy! They bark at anything and everything, leave gifts of ripped up garbage and droppings in our yard, and charge us when we walk to the community dumpster every other day. I was actually attacked by three of them recently (just a scratch on my leg and a hole in my shorts - luckily Caleb wasn't with me), and have carried a weapon when venturing outside ever since. The worst part is, most of them belong to our landlord or one of his siblings (all four withing a few blocks - they're Greek).

This little white and brown lady has no name as far as I know, but she has a sweet disposition and is incredibly loyal. She protects me from the other dogs, and is the only one that never barks. I'd smother her with all the love and affection she deserves if she wasn't covered with fleas and flies, poor thing. I wish Caleb could pet her too, 'cause he loves dogs ("dah.. oof oof"). At least we can enjoy each other's company.