Gideon is 18 Months Old

It's extremely difficult for me to imagine Gideon turning 2 years old in a mere 6 months but here we are as of July 12th with an 18-month-old. It goes by fast! Really really fast! Too fast!

Obligatory stats: 33 inches tall (75th percentile), 23 pounds and 5 ounces (25th percentile). He's tall and thin. He grew a full inch in the past 3 months but only put on a few ounces. The doctor is unconcerned and just mentioned that it's clear Gideon is very active and that his calorie-consumption hasn't yet caught up to his activity level.

Likes: climbing, pretzels, kisses
Dislikes: potatoes,  long car rides, sleeping past 5:30AM (ugh!)

His vocabulary has expanded like crazy in the past few months. My current favorites are:
-eh-plane (airplane)
-fwowah (flower)
-hoth (hot)
-twain (train)

Gideon's been a slow teether, not getting his first tooth until he was 9 months old. It was a very slow process until about a month ago. Now the little guy has 8 teeth coming in at once, 4 of them being molars! Thankfully after this slew of teeth are fully in, we should be in the clear for a little while. With all these new teeth he has recently majorly increased the amount he eats.

His personality is developing more and more and I love watching him grow from baby to little boy. He has a great sense of humor and after getting a laugh or two he will gladly repeat things again and again for more laughter. He has mastered walking backwards since it got a reaction the first time he did it. He loves to cover his eyes with his hands, wait for someone to say "peek-a-boo" and then quickly uncover his eyes while donning a surprised expression (eyebrows up, mouth in a little "O" shape), it's very cute. He's persistent with a bit of a stubborn streak but definitely more easily redirected than Caleb was at this age. He's a daredevil of sorts but a wee bit of a wimp when it comes to dealing with the resulting bump or fall. He's a Mama's boy for sure and still climbs up in my lap many times a day to nurse briefly then hops down to get back to playing. He can recognize and verbally identify several letters and numbers. He loves and admires his brother but has gotten to a point where he doesn't take a lot of what Caleb dishes out anymore. While I don't want to see my children fight, I do feel better that Gideon is no longer just a helpless victim in their scuffles. He has started telling me, before filling his diaper, that he needs to "poo, poop." I've really got to capitalize on that one and maybe think about starting the potty training process sooner rather than later. 

Gideon at 16 months

Gideon at 17 months

Gideon at 18 months

He's cute and big and looks like a little man-boy in that last shot, don't you think? Happy 18-months little dude!

He Likes to Wear his Suit

A few weeks ago, we were at a child's birthday party. There was the sound of laughing children and chatting adults. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping. A lovely day. There was a moon-bounce, a swing set, and a wading pool. We brought the kids to the party in swim attire, knowing that they'd be playing in water. Caleb ran over to play in the wading pool and Gideon wandered around the yard. Matt and I were conversing with other parents.

One of the other moms who happened to be checking in on the wading pool kids politely interrupted with, "Hey Heather, it looks like someone is getting pretty comfortable over there." Several things flashed through my mind. Caleb was up to something, but what? I quickly walked around the moon-bounce that had obscured my view and then dashed to the wading pool when I spotted my 2-year-old standing there stark naked! I approached Caleb and asked him why he had taken his clothes off. He informed me matter-of-factly, "I'm not all wet anymore Mommy." As I directed him to get dressed, "give me your leg, now your other leg," I'm explaining to him that he's wearing bathing trunks and a rash guard and how they're supposed to get wet and how he should not just strip down to nothing around so many people or outside or unless he's getting ready to hop in the tub. All the while, the splashing gaggle of little girls ranging in age from 4-6 years old are all squealing in unison, "Ew, ew, ewwww, GROSS!!" Fortunately, after re-dressing him and emphasizing the importance of staying clothed, we've avoided any further exhibitionism.

That is until yesterday... I was in the kitchen starting dinner and I may or may not have been semi-distracted checking out some cooking blogs for recipes which led me to non-cooking blogs and then down the rabbit hole that is the internet. Anyway, the kids were out on the back deck (adjacent to the kitchen), playing in the water table, and I was keeping an ear out for any problems.

The boys were getting along well enough but then suddenly I heard squealing and giggling followed by scampering feet. I peeked out the door, but they were out of view at the other corner of the deck. I stepped outside to see Gideon chasing a very nude Caleb. Apparently, they both found this hilarious. Admittedly, I did too but I attempted to stifle my laughter as I scooped up my super-pale nudie to rush him inside.

I'm thankful our 7-year-old neighbor girl was not present during this. I'm positive she would have had all kinds of commentary. I'm also thankful that the 10 or so neighbors in extremely close proximity (townhouse-living folks) were nowhere to be found (Phew! My parenting reputation remains untarnished, ha!!).

I questioned Caleb as to why he had taken his clothes off. Similarly to his reasoning during the previous episode, he explained that his clothes were "all wet" and he wanted "to be dry." I again told him that when he's playing with water (other than in the tub) it's okay for his clothes to be wet, etc., etc. I'm sure my words went completely unheard. From this point forth, whenever water play is involved, I suppose I will have to keep an extra-close eye on Caleb.

Silver lining? I figure I can brag to other parents about Caleb being totally into wearing his only suit even on the hottest of days. I'll just omit the part about that suit being of the birthday variety. ;)

(I would have included a picture but technology is not always on our side and I've lost ALL of my iPhone photos. It's a good lesson to learn I suppose. Backup your stuff frequently folks!)

Gideon is 15 Months Old

I wound up not doing 13 month and 14 months posts. So I feel it necessary to fill in some gaps here. Shortly before Gideon turned 13 months, Matt decided he needed a haircut. I realize now that the "before" picture doesn't look much different than the "after" picture.

Before

This leads me to believe that the suffering witnessed in the picture below was likely unnecessary. Sorry baby boy.

Not so happy about being held still. He wasn't nearly
as calm and cool as his brother was for his first cut.

Thankfully, he did cheer up.

After

Anyway, then he turned 13 months old. 

Gideon at 13 months

Tap-Tap-Tap

Playing at the park.

And a month later, he turned 14 months old.

Gideon at 14 months

Then a month later, on April 12th, he turned 15 months old.

Gideon at 15 months. An eerily similar shot to
 the 13-month one. Totally unplanned.

Without further ado, here is the latest on the littlest dude in the Pladna household. 

Stats:  24 pounds, 3 ounces and 32inches tall; that's the 50th and 75th percentiles respectively
Hates: diaper changes, having things taken from him, cheese
Loves: oatmeal, drumming on things, things that spin

He's beginning to talk and has racked up a bit of a vocabulary. I love this stage!

An Incomplete Vocabulary list:
-beh beh (bellybutton)
-yah (fan)
-No
-uh uh (uh-oh)
-mama
-dada
-kah (car)
-pop-pop
-book
-bubble
-bath
-more
-nuh (nurse)
-wheee!
-baby
-bin (spin)
-ball
-tah (tap)

He gave up crawling months ago and now he even does a little running. Well, I guess really quick walking would be a better descriptor. His personality is beginning to shine and he has revealed to us quite a temper! He does not like not getting his way, he does not like when Caleb pesters him (all too frequently), and he certainly does not like it when he wants Mommy and I'm not immediately available. I wonder what 2 will be like?!

It's not all temper tantrums though. Gideon is such a sweetheart, he's our sensitive child. He puckers his little lips, leans toward us and says "mmmm" waiting for a kiss, he snuggles, he giggles, he gives Eskimo kisses to his stuffed animals. He's super-curious and spends time analyzing and exploring things. He loves to flip through books and he's still enamored with Caleb. He finally has a total of six teeth, two of which just erupted around Easter time. I'm convinced he'll still be getting baby teeth at age seven. He recently discovered the joys of climbing onto the furniture and he needs to be pulled down from chairs and couches  a few times a day. He's begun to sleep more solidly through the night and seems to be trending toward only one wake-up a night which is generally pretty painless; a brief nursing session then back to sleep. He has also pretty consistently been taking only one nap a day. Although when he has only had one nap, he is pooped out by dinner time for sure.

Overall, he's a total joy. I'm continually amazed by how different he is at this age than Caleb was at the same age. It's awesome to watch Gideon learn and grow and it's difficult to remember what life was even like before this little guy entered our lives.

Ultimate Mommy Fail-Almost

About a half-hour ago, Caleb started bugging me for juice. "Juice, Mommy, I want juice. May I have juice, pleeeease?" (with hands folded and pleading eyes). I rarely give Caleb juice because I feel water is a better option. But he is so darn cute and it's Friday and I'm so darn tired. So yeah, juice sounded like a fine beverage choice.

I was unsure if we even had any but then remembered that there was a little bit of OJ on the bottom shelf of the fridge. I told Caleb he could have his juice and I headed toward the kitchen only to discover that we were, in fact, out of juice. Bummer. Being a 2-year-old and all, Caleb doesn't deal so well with being told "yes" and then suddenly being told "no," regardless of circumstances. So, I spot the margarita mix on the top shelf of the fridge and decide quickly that it's a fair substitute, kinda like lemonade or well, limeade I guess. Because again, it's Friday and I'm tired and I want to avoid the meltdown that would occur if I were to tell him there's no juice remaining.

So I pour some margarita mix into his cup and fill the remaining half of his cup with water. Yes, even though he's almost 3, I typically dilute his juice on the rare occasion that he has any. Again, because I believe water to be the healthiest option. I'm conscientious like that. Anyway, I hand him his cup and start to screw the cap back on the margarita mix. As I'm doing so, I think that it smells a little "off." I look at the label. OH MY GOD!!!! I realize at this moment that it is not margarita mix but rather pre-mixed margarita, as in tequila-already-included. Um...what?!?? I snatched the cup so quickly from Caleb that I'm positive he didn't even manage to take a single sip.

This explains two things:
1. The importance of  reading product labels carefully, prior to consuming said product.
      -AND-
2. The reason the couple margaritas I had over the past several months (I drink alcohol even less frequently than I allow Caleb to have juice, both for the same reason) seemed so strong when Matt mixed them in the traditional fashion using the mix plus tequila.

Well, crisis averted but now I have a toddler standing wide-eyed, in shock because he's suddenly and abruptly juice-less. So, I squeeze Caleb an orange, add some water, and offer that to him. This satisfies him. Imminent meltdown? Averted! And then what do I do? Well, I drink the watered-down margarita straight out of his  sippy-cup of course. Because again, it's Friday and I'm tired and I almost just got my 2-year-old drunk. So much for conscientious, huh?

Cheers!

I Stand Corrected

Caleb has never struggled with "finding his voice" as some would call it. He has been loud and proud to say what's on his mind since he began talking. Recently, he has taken to making known when someone is error. Typically, that person is me by default because I'm the fluently-speaking person he is around most often (Gideon is starting to tally up a little vocabulary though). You'd like some examples? I thought you'd never ask.


-After listing a wide range of baby animals and telling me what action he was imagining they were performing, Caleb seemed at a loss for ideas. I offered, "How 'bout a baby penguin?" He liked that, so I continued. "A baby penguin walking." Caleb looked at me with disapproval, slapped his hands straight down to his sides, wiggled his body side to side, then corrected me, "They waddle Mommy, penguins waddle, like this, not walk." 


-After I told Gideon that the large, plastic insect he was carrying around is a "bug," (a word Gideon can manage to repeat after me) Caleb says matter-of-factly, "That's a dragonfly." *sigh

-Right after bonking his brother on the head with a play-kitchen utensil, Caleb was placed in timeout. I explained to him his offense, "Caleb, you are in timeout because you hit your brother in the head with a spoon and that is not okay." Caleb, with head hung in feigned guilt, peered at me from under his eyebrows and chirped, "It's a ladle."  Touche. 


He also corrects others. During a play-date with some friends at the park, Caleb picked up a large, flat rock, held it to his ear, and spoke into it, presumably to an imaginary friend on the other end. My friend asked him, "Is that a phone, Caleb?" to which Caleb replied, "No, it's just a rock." 


And it doesn't stop there. He corrects our behavior as well. "Mommy, don't toss that, no throwing in the house!" or "You need to share" as Matt and I sit on the couch, playfully yanking the shared blanket back and forth. 

This kid is a trip! And I can't help but love him for it! 

Yes, those are his underwear on his head. This is the most recent,
decent, uploaded photo I have at the moment.

Attachment Issues

It's not news that Caleb becomes strongly attached to some weird things. He's a passionate kid, but this time he went overboard. Several months ago on a Daddy/son car ride to the grocery store, Matt introduced Caleb to a particular song by asking, "Do you wanna rock?". The song title eludes me at the moment but that is unimportant. Anyway, because Matt is so fun and spunky, he played said song for Caleb while banging the air-drums and energetically slamming the air-cymbals on cue (all while driving, the man must be a superhero). Caleb ate that up! Now, Caleb imitates this each time he hears the song. Cute, right?

Well, it was cute right up until the point where my two-year old became a musical backseat tyrant. Since then, each time we're in the car and the car starts rolling Caleb says, "I wanna rock!" to which I generally oblige because I believe in choosing my battles. But sometimes I'm just plain sick of the song and on a 30 minute drive, listening to the same song more than 4 times makes me consider veering off the road into a tree.

So, I attempt a multitude of tactics. I stealthily stop the CD and flip on the radio while in mid-conversation with Caleb hoping that he won't catch onto my switcheroo. No luck! "I wanna rock, I don't like this rock, I want different rock!" comes blaring in my ears from behind. I try to find a station playing music in the same genre as the song Caleb would like to hear, nope. Same response except louder. Then I try to make it fun, "Listen Caleb, it's party-dance music" as I whip my head back and forth and try to look like I'm at the hottest rave in town. Sometimes this will distract him for a little while but then Caleb remembers that he has an opinion and he wants it to be heard. So King Caleb begins screaming at the top of his lungs from his five-point harnessed, cow-print throne.

At this point, the whole thing has become a parenting issue, right? I can't possibly give in now even if I'd really like to because, well that would only teach him that yelling and being rude gets him exactly what he wants. Blast! I hate those parenting moments where I can hear my conscience advising me to do the "responsible" thing when all I want to do is make. the. noise. stop! So, like the award-winning mom I aim to be, I choose to make my child suffer through the remainder of the car ride with no music at all. Not that I didn't try. I did the whole, "It's Mommy's turn to choose a song, I'll listen to this then we'll listen to your music." And the "Caleb, your choices are to listen to Mommy's music or listen to nothing at all." Caleb then gives me the run-around, "okay, no music," I turn the music off, "NO, NO, NO, ROCK, I WANNA ROCK! I DON'T WANT THIS SONG!", I turn my music back on, "NO. OTHER. ROCK. MOMMY!" Then through gritted teeth, "Caleb, if you do not stop screaming, I will turn the music off altogether and we will have no music for the rest of the car ride."

Oh, I should let you know that through all of this, Gideon is sleeping. I want to keep him sleeping. I'm becoming angrier thinking that Caleb's antics might awaken him. But finally I turn the music off, forced to follow through on my threats. You know, for the sake of consistency and what not. I've read that's the key to discipline. I'd like to throw that key onto the railroad tracks and watch it get crushed by a fast moving train at this point but I journey forth in my consistent-motherly way. This means I sat through a full fifteen minutes of my son screaming, like horror movie screaming, at me for the remainder of our drive home. It was tortuous for both of us. Someone please give me a sticker on my star chart for being sticking to my guns, anyone? Please. At least then it would feel somewhat worth it.

After that horrific incident, I now just let the kid be my maestro. I don't really fight it. I can't. I surrender. It's fine. I'll listen to the same song repeatedly for the rest of my earthly life as long as I don't have to endure the screaming again. Recently, on a lengthy drive home from a play date, Caleb of course wanted "to rock!" but then he fell asleep. After about five minutes, I stopped the CD and turned on the radio. Caleb roused from his sleep to demand his song in a rather groggy mumble. I promptly turned his song back on, he promptly dozed back to sleep, and then I enjoyed the remainder of the drive in peace. Can you blame me?

He's Got Jokes

Caleb was sitting on the toilet last night working on his...ahem...number two. He peered into the toilet at his waste and mentioned something about Piglet. Knowing he's a creative (see: weird) kid I asked him if he was telling me that his stool's shape reminded him of Piglet. He looked up at me and said, "That's not Piglet Mommy, it's Poo." Get it? Poo and Pooh, as in Winnie The. I laughed. Hard. Caleb seemed confused at my amusement so I venture to say the joke wasn't deliberate. It was funny nonetheless though. Here's hoping you laughed instead of puking. Sorry about the poop talk.