Merry, Merry...

We've been busy this week, readers. After an amazing Christmas Eve dinner with the Kuzmicks we had Christmas morning fun with the Uncles; then, we headed to Vermont for (another, excessive) dinner with Kiki and Grandad. Despite the weird (good! meaty!) eating and hyped-up social schedule, Graham has had nothing but fun this week. 

We'll be home soon. Anyone want to come over to play with an excessive amount of cool new toys? We're open for business starting Monday.

We send our happiest holiday wishes to all our family and friends. 

Being Thankful...

Wrong holiday, right? Well, the holidays are often an (especially) stressful time. My mother loved this time of year, so it's always been a struggle for me to really enjoy it without her. Then we had Graham and settled into our own little family and traditions, which has been really great. This year, Aimee died right before Thanksgiving, which has made the holidays again painful and poignant, as she was perhaps the only person I knew who loved this time of year as much as my mom did. Every morning, as I get ready to complain about the snow, the cold, the presents, the decorations, the Big Meal, I think about Aimee and my Mom. Then I suck it up and make some cookies, thinking that they both embraced the crazy AND the peaceful during the holidays.

So, here I am, being thankful:
I am thankful that I see my hilarious and bossy little son grow every day; I spend time with my brothers who live close to me; I get to show my love for my family by taking care of them. I have a partner who takes 50% of all the responsibility EVERY DAY. We have parents who love and support and accept us. I have stability in a world that is profoundly rocky. I have good friends who are like family. I had a great mom and a great friend, both of whom are gone, but whose influence positively affects my own decisions, every day.

How about you tell the people who make you nicer, happier, calmer, whatever that you are a better person for their impact? It would be an awesome holiday present.

The Taste


We are trying our best to stay busy today, as we wait for the first big snowstorm of the year to begin. We went for a ride on the train, and, most excitingly, made sugar cookie dough to frost with friends this afternoon (if they can make it over here- though they are intrepid, and I don't doubt they will).

When we make a treat together, G helps me add ingredients and stir things. All this activity is just foreplay to his favorite moment, the taste. He'll start yelling and demanding it if I take too long: "I want TASTE! TASTE! Graham NEEDS taste!" etc.

We hope to have some fun snow time tomorrow, after weather has cleared out a bit (and I promise to take pictures). I hope everyone is safe and snug and well-nestled at home, if you're in the path of this one.

Graham's second birthday from Whitney Wilson on Vimeo.

Here's the film of G's birthday. It's long (12 minutes) but worth watching. Just settle in with a drink and some popcorn (or save it for when for your boss is in a meeting).  Make sure to wait for the musical montage at the end; it's my favorite part. 

We thank Marlon so much for documenting the big day for us. 

Birthday Pics!

Thanks again to Marlon for being such a marvelous (well-equipt) photog.

It's been such a weird fall. It's rained a ton and the temperature has swung from 60 to 30 within a few days. It reminds me a lot of the weather in Northern California (but colder) or England (more blue sky). We do our damndest to get out as much as possible, and we all went out to puddle stomp this morning (the side trip to the bakery was just a bonus). 

Jen is busy all weekend at a conference with her students at Harvard, so Graham and I will be making it work as a two person household; that is, unless any of you fine folk want to feed us. We both like pizza and beer. 

Graham's party was AMAZING- we had the best time. Thanks to all of our friends who were able to come. And to everyone too far away to make it: we missed you!

More pictures to come- this one just absolutely captures the spirit of the affair.

It's b-day here, readers. We're in a frenzy of preparation for the big part-ty (10 toddlers enter..) and will post pictures as soon as we recover. 

Thanks for the love and birthday wishes...

In case you had forgotten, or didn't know Graham from the beginning, here's what he looked like two years ago, tomorrow. (Here are more pictures, if you're interested.)

Two years ago today I was waddling to another OB appointment, where I would have an ultrasound that approximated my baby's weight at 9 1/2 lbs, at which point I demanded they take him out before he got any bigger. Of course, I was already almost 2 weeks overdue at that point- I was just looking for an excuse. 

This winter has started out much like that one: really warm, with no need for the maternity coat BA had lent me. Other than that fact, our lives are really nothing like the ones we led two years ago. Now, we have new friends (of the grown up and toddler variety), a home of our own, and a third partner on all our adventures. 

Birthdays

We're at T-minus 4 days to G's 2nd birthday here, and, as I begin to be unable to focus on anything else, I thought it might be useful to provide some background to our newer friends. Anyone who's been around for 10 plus years or more can probably just skip this post, as this particular personality quirk has certainly made itself known to you.

I love birthdays. 

I have many reasons for preferring birthdays to Halloween or Christmas or Easter, but it all probably boils down to the fact that my parents raised me to be a birthday fiend. (The religion didn't stick,  but the deep seated desire to make my own cakes sure did.) There's a long history here: My mom threw the BEST parties when I was a kid, and my dad was always involved. For example, one year I had a 50s themed party and BOTH my parents dressed up. Another year, the pink year, my mom made a sign for our door with my name on it- she cut out construction paper to make pink tulips; I wore pink overalls; I had the BEST pink flowers on my cake. 

Anyway, I was raised to think birthdays were special, and I plan on passing this on to my kids. And this year, since G is finally old enough to have preferences, I can do awesome things like buy a cake pan shaped like a guitar. My mom would have hand made invites, too, but my game is not quite to that level. Not yet. 

More belated thanks...

We're home after a comfy weekend in Vermont with Kiki (Catherine) and Auntie Lipa (Filipa). Nothing is more fun than leftover pie with people you love. 

Well, maybe a spoiling trip to the local toy store is more fun, and Graham made some excellent scores for his upcoming second birthday. The buying spree ended with a temper tantrum: imagine G yelling, " I want THAT zebra" as we try to hustle him out of the store.  Although it is enlightening to understand what he is enraged about ("I want that [car] door open!!"), it's a little embarrassing when it happens in public. And also hilarious. 

In other news, Graham is sick, again. We are on day three of a chest cold here, readers, and can I just mention that I curse whoever passed this little gem of an illness on to us. Especially since the Big Birthday is this weekend, we hope G's recovery is on the quick side. After all, I have a guitar cake to bake!

 

This year, we're thankful for having two Wilson brothers living close by. Graham worships them, and I think they like him quite a bit, too. 

We lost our friend Aimee to cancer last Wednesday. This poem always, even when we were young grad students with nothing but future ahead of us, reminded me of her. Now it just makes me cry. 

--

When you are old and gray and full of sleep

And nodding by the fire, take down this book, 

And slowly read, and dream of the soft look

Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace, 

And loved your beauty with love false and true;

But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you, 

And loved the sorrows of your changing face.

And bending down beside the glowing bars, 

Murmur, a little sadly, how love fled

And paced upon the mountains overhead, 

And his his face amid a crowd of stars. 

-- W.B. Yeats

Graham has been a real pain in the ass lately. His favorite activities including the following: hitting (others, himself, objects), screeching (in delight or anger), making a big f-ing mess (upending cups, containers, etc), and waking up at the unholy hour of 5am, which adds insult to injury. Our main respite, many hours of outside time, is increasingly limited by the colder weather (and I am deranged enough presently to hope for a little global warming). Anyway, here are some shots of what we did Sunday morning: puddle stomp. 

Parenting Advice: be less neurotic than me



So, Graham was a late talker. He didn't even really babble until he was 18 months old, and didn't say anything regularly until this summer. The fact that he was way behind most of his friends in this respect had me in a full blown tizzy, especially because many of our girl toddler friends were essentially brokering real estate deals by the same age. It seemed only slightly less fun for Graham, who went through a few months when the fact that we couldn't understand his wants (uh, his demands) resulted in tears every day. Ok, several times a day. We had him evaluated and started receiving services through Early Intervention.

It was when we started attending a playgroup at our EI center that I began to wonder if I had jumped the gun. Many of these kids had been premature, or have more obvious cognitive disabilities, or show signs of being Autistic. Their moms had known each other for a long time and they chatted about progress and specialists. We knew that Graham seemed to understand a lot; he just didn't respond at all (and then, not understandably).

Then, just a few weeks ago, Graham found his tongue. In a big way. He went from linking two words together (which is a big developmental gold star) to speaking in full sentences, to repeating everything last thing we say (there goes the swearing, I promise). Because this whole evolution has been ramped up, we are still AMAZED every time the process works the way it should. He asks for the song about marching dinosaurs and we play it. He asks for peanut butter toast and I make it. No more frustration on either end (except I am now officially a toddler lackey).

I have the following to add to any conversations that have been going on among our friends about developmental issues. Timetables suck. We KNEW this- have known it since Graham outpaced the growth chart at 6 months, but I still got caught up in the hysteria. My other big failing? To compare my kid to every other child we know. We've seen our little band of merry toddlers change so much in the past year, and they are all awesome, and they are ALL doing it on their own schedule. It makes me realize that my desires amounted to a need for Graham to be at least average, when he is actually much more than that. They all are.

Graham on Obama.

Graham can sing! We've celebrated 2 birthdays this week, and by today G was an old pro at the whole thing.

Well, Graham finally wore his Halloween costume tonight. Up until this point he has wanted absolutely nothing to do with it (including at our own little Halloween party). But tonight, as soon as the first batch of kids showed up to get their treats, he was suddenly totally on board with the idea. At least for 15 minutes. Then, after returning home, he decided to gear up for one last round. So, thankfully, the turtle has seen some use. I'm going to eat some leftover mini Snickers to celebrate. And you, reader, get to experience our hard-won turtle costume victory. 

A series that should be titled: Why playing with my mom (Jen) is awesome. She can even make a laundry basket a toy.

 Bobbie's gorgeous pictures of the the Forest Hills Cemetery reminded us how much we love it there in the Fall.  We used to live off of one of the gates to this beautiful private park, and today we told Graham how he used to walk there everyday, only then he lived inside my belly. 

In other news, G's sick, again. Tell me about how his immune system is being strengthened at Daycare? Right now, I don't believe it. 

We're developing a plan for dealing with the 7 month span of bad weather we face here, dear readers (and not, as one friend suggested, moving to San Diego). Step 1 is projects, like as pictured above, the apple bread we baked this morning (at 6am). Step 2 is finding friends who will invite us over, accepting apple bread as a bribe, as this morning we hung out with Gus and Ezra. Step 3 is being outside whenever possible, as today when G and I walked home from Ezra's house, stopping for a good long while to check out the construction in our neighborhood. This multi-step plan, along with some good boots (for Graham AND me, though I prefer mine to be black leather with a buckle) will keep us out of the winter doldrums. I hope. 

Anyway, plotting aside, the apple bread was delicious and we LOVE that Ezra has stairs for us to climb. 

Here's an article in the NYTIMES about people like us, living squished and happy in the big city. I find the data/arguments surrounding these trends totally compelling- and I do feel like we live in a small town sometimes. I see someone to say hello to wherever we go. 

News flash:

Graham can count to 12. As in the alphabet, we had not even thought to teach him this skill. In this case, however, LeapFrog was not responsible; instead, we can thank his caregiver, Lisette, whom I want to raise all my children. From birth. 

Current Topics of interest (followed by a typical G rumination on CTI):
Io [a school friend, with whom he had held hands on a walk to the park.] (Io, hand, Lisette, park.)
Pirates (pi-rat. ship. arr. hat. boots.)
bums (bum. cream. on.)
home (Mama. Mom. Baby. home.)
fire alarms (fire alarm. on. beep.)
who's on the phone (pa-pa. phone. hi.)
books(busy. town. read.)
belly activities (bite. kiss. raspberry.)

So, after all the worry this summer that G would NEVER talk, we now feel like we're over the hurdle. On the other side of the hurdle is every morning waking up to some riff on the following (can you guess the song?): "head. knees. toes. eyes. toes [cackle]." Which is a quick prelude to "Mama. hi. hug. up. " Notice his attempt to get into the good graces right before he gets to what he really wants.

And, yes, the advanced alphabet study continues. We've got "U" and "Q" now; "W", alas, continues to evade the young scholar.

Honestly, there's something about New England in the Fall. I know I sound like a tourist brochure, but even I can't resist the combination of honey-colored light and bright leaves. This weekend we made our annual pilgrimage to Western Mass. for apple donuts and milk. (See last years photo here). We had a great time window-shopping, despite a desperate outside diaper change. Could restaurants PLEASE start having changing tables? The sticky floor is NOT a good option. Anyway, happy fall, friends!

Sad news today: Graham's Great-grandfather Walton (my grandpa) died after a period of escalating illnesses. I'm sad, not because he got relief from his many ailments, but because he's gone from the world. He was a surprising guy- when we went to New Orleans together, he not only knew OF many of the musicians we went to hear, he knew them, and they knew him. One trumpeter told me that my grandpa new more about classic New Orleans Jazz than anyone he knew. 

Here's a clip of that same trumpeter playing  (thanks, Interwebs). Enjoy a little in memory of my Grandpa. 

Graham's first (recognized) sentence:

"I don't want to."

sigh. 

What's Up?

Well, pirates. Thanks to his cousins and the introduction of The Backyardigans into our lives this summer, he's discovered swarthiness early, dear readers. So, mamas gamely provided the little swashbuckler with a few pirate toys and he has not shut about them since then. He even likes to have a pirate share his dinner (one bite for the pirate, one bite for G, etc.). I definitely now get how phases work: one idea lodges in brain; all single-minded hell breaks lose. 

Also, seriously, G is in love with his daycare. Yesterday, he demanded to stay there for a half hour after Jen arrived to pick him up, because he was having too much fun to go home. 

Also, Graham has started referring to himself as "Baby." As in, "What's your name?" Answer: "Baby" (pronounced with an enthusiastic emphasis on the first syllable: BAY-bee). Jen and I like to joke that he'll be 45, in a job interview, saying, " Hi, I'm Graham, but you can call me Baby." 

We're doing our Fall thing here, readers, meaning taking increasingly chilly morning trips to the park, working on closing up the garden for the season, and getting out our sweaters and coats. Lucky for us, our kid still fits his coat from last year (first thought, hooray; second thought, just how big WAS he?). Graham is having a great time at daycare (Hola!) and we are all getting back into the routine of work/home/work/home with the occasional hiccup: This week we are playing musical chairs with a bad cold (first me, now G, Jen next, I'm sure).

These shots were taken at the TotLot, also known as the place Mama goes when she can't think of anything else to do. I like nothing better than to get a scone and a coffee and chitchat with our neighbors while G putters around. I think, based on these photos, it's safe to say he loves it there as well.

My Apologies to Leap Frog

We bought G this magnetic alphabet toy a while ago in the hopes that it would give him something to do while I cook. It goes like this: individual alphabet magnets can be put into a little box, at which point a song plays. It's an obnoxious song, honestly, that pairs the letter with its sound, so:

A says ah; A says ah; every letter makes a sound; A says ah

It's loud and a little troubling to hear at 6am. But yesterday, I was doing laundry and G was playing with it. He looked at me, pointed to the letter M, and said "M." Fluke, right? Oh, no. The kid knows about half his letters by sight and will repeat the name and sound to you. This is the same little guy who is still way behind most of his buddies, speech-wise. Totally amazing. We spent a lot of yesterday having him perform his cool trick for the uncles. 

So, my apologies to Leap Frog, who I had until now thought a gimmicky brand that prays on the desire of parents to have smart kids. I mean, it might do still be a gimmicky brand, but it taught G his alphabet without us even KNOWING about it. 

Graham didn't cry when I said goodbye at day care today. I got a nice kiss and hug, then he turned around and headed for the trains. Hooray for my independent guy.

We've been talking a lot about our daycare these days, because Graham is enthusiastic, no, obsessed, with it. Typically, G will begin by repeating his provider's name until I commit to the following routine:

Q:What do you say to Lissette when you open the door?
A: (yells) OH-la
Q: Who was at day care today?
A: I-O
Q: Who else?
A: Da(garble garble) = Daniel
Q: Who else?
A: Alba

Q:Where did you go?
A: park!


etc.etc. ad nauseum. To tell the truth, he just really likes to holler "Hola," so we do that part of the conversation a lot.

Seriously people, we've got a boy on our hands now:

Now, who do I have to deal with to get his hair to stay that color forever? Satan? Sarah Palin? Because I am ready to strike a bargain with whomever necessary. 

Oh yeah, and he loves the keyboard Ryan brought with him, but not as much as his 'tar. More Uncle updates in the next few days, I promise. 

Adjusting Expectations

Today, my son rode around in his car seat clutching a Pablo* doll and eating Cheetos. There goes the no media, no junkfood perfect childhood I spent all that time planning. Actually, it did kind of look perfect, just in a totally messy way. 

*If you haven't exposed yourself or your child yet to The Backyardigans, I urge you to avoid it. It's infectious cuteness is deadly. 

Pa-Pa visits!

My dad was here for a week (with Uncle Ryan). We went to Vermont for the weekend, walked around our neighborhood a lot, sampled goodies from all the best local bakeries, and went to the zoo. Despite the close quarters and one long feverish night (for Graham, who is I think teething again), we all had a great time. Thanks to Grandpa for the enchiladas! We wish the pan would just magically replenish itself forever.

We're back from vacation, well rested and bug-bitten. It was a great long week away from the city, and we are, as usual, grateful to the Martins for providing us with really excellent food and a river to throw stones at. Even better, this time more cousins were at the house, and Graham loved hanging out in the playroom ruining all the girls' game (which they were very graceful about). The girls are Mia (6), Cammie (4), and the boy is Graham (20 months).

Weezer + the Muppets = True Love

Country Mouse VS. City Mouse

We're in Vermont for a whole week, which requires some serious downshifting. The first day we kept coming up with reasons for leaving the house (supermarket for bananas? Does Graham need slippers in the chilly morning? Where can I find a yoga studio?). At one point we googled around frantically in search of a playground in Montpelier. Half a day later we realized, oh right, in Vermont you wander down to the river and throw stones. Day's activity accomplished. 

So, now we're settled into a good, restful, vacation. I'll take lots of pictures. 

Jen reminded me that I had forgotten to post the beer pictures. It wasn't that; I was just unsure how more conservative members of our reading audience would react- not just the Mormon ones. Anyway, Graham likes beer, or at least beer bottles. On our last visit to Vermont (two weeks ago), he spent a lot of time mimicking his Grandad as he drank. Then they would both laugh hilariously. It was damn cute, and I can reassure you that only a tiny bit of actual beer was consumed. But the actual amount was hard to tell. 

We're headed to Vermont again for the whole week on Sunday- I'm just praying that the rain that has been drenching us for the past, oh, month, is now truly gone. 

I learned something about expectations today. Early this summer, I had decided to sign G up for a toddler clay class, fantasizing about making pinch pots together, I guess. We went last week, I gung-ho, he unsuspecting. But as soon as the class started I realized it was just exactly the wrong things:

sitting

focusing on one object for a long time

ignoring the brooms/buckets/chairs all over the room

touching slimey clay

resisting the many doors, leading to stairs, porches, driveways, utility closets

I was a little heartened by the fact that G was not alone in his disinterest and decided to go back for more today. This time, he took one look at the clay (as well as the cluster of well-focused, chatty toddler girls) and turned around for the more present joys of the parking lot, where a guy was hitching a trailer to a Suburban. I read the "That's Better" expression on his face and packed it in. We left, went out for iced tea and a scone (for me) and spent another 30 minutes in the train station, riding the elevator and watching the trains.

A couple of lessons learned: Graham is not going to like everything I like (or want him to like). Free shows, like the parking lot and train station, are sometimes (often) the best route. And, lastly,  it's my job to be open to navigating it all. And the guy with the trailer and the Suburban? Turned to us and said, "I'd rather watch this, too, buddy."

A post for Amber, Sarah, Katie, and possibly Catherine. To be ignored by non-foodie vampire haters. 

Today, we are discussing the teenage vampire novel, Twilight, in bookgroup. I, clearly possessed by the spirit of my mother, decided a themed treat was in order. I give you:

Red Velvet Cupcakes. 

These turned out well, and I am proud of their realistic bloodiness. We baked them with our friend Jessie and her daughter Flora, but I frosted them today alone, while Graham napped, fearing the results of the sugar rush that would follow his "participation." Note: reddening up a cake takes A LOT of food color. 

We bought the Martha Stewart Cookies cookbook. A dangerous move, to be sure, and more dangerous still since I've decided to work my way through the book, baking one cookie a week. The pledge is to give away most of what I bake (as I did yesterday to our neighbors with a new baby). 

Graham helps me by licking the beaters and, sometimes also, the spoon. He's taken to standing on a stool near the mixer, and, while there, asking that I turn it on and off. After everything is done we like to sit down and sample our goods together. 

This week's recipe turned out so well that I'm posting a link to it.  It's like banana bread and chocolate chip cookies got together and made the most delicious baby.