Blast off!

Since we will be out of town on Oliver's actual birthday we decided to have an early birthday celebration yesterday. Over the past few weeks we've attended several birthday parties for Oliver's friends; Oliver was not only excited about yesterday being his "happy day" as he calls it, but he was also excited about being able to plan his own party. As it turns out Oliver was carefully checking out what was going on at the other fiestas and made it clear what parts of the other parties he wanted and what parts he did not. He was very clear that for his party he wanted no party hats, but that he did want balloons and he did want cake. He provided us with a detailed list of invitees and he specified that the food should include taquitos and hot dogs. As for napkins - he carefully chose these sunflower napkins.

Oliver happily sat and ate his birthday dinner surrounded by his friends. In fact, he was so good at dinner that Davis and I are considering having Maggie, Tommy, Carragh, Sam and Henry over every night.


A couple weeks ago I asked Oliver to start thinking about what he wanted for a birthday cake. At first he decided he wanted a bulldozer, then he thought a combine harvester might be a better choice, but in the end he decided a space shuttle cake was the way to go. Once he decided on the space shuttle cake he was very clear that that was what he wanted and he reminded me of the fact daily.

In the end I think we were all pleased and surprised with how the shuttle cake turned out.

Even though we had the pre-birthday celebration, I am having a difficult time getting my head around the fact that Oliver will be two on Friday. It really does seem like yesterday that I was pregnant with Oliver, wondering when he would decide it was time to enter the world. I can't believe that I have an almost two year old, one who clearly has his own personality and opinions.

Happy Birthday Papa!

A belated happy birthday to Papa!

Where has the time gone? It seems like yesterday we were celebrating Papa's 60th birthday - stomping in chocolate pie and dancing on the dining room table (http://kateanddavis.blogspot.com/2009/06/happy-birthday.html). This year we weren't able to celebrate the big day with Papa, but Oliver did call his Papa and wish him a "Happy Day!".

We look forward to a belated birthday celebration next weekend.

Just like Daddy

The other night Oliver came up to me while I was getting dinner ready and told me that he needed a nail set in order to finish the work he was doing. A nail set?! Really? I had no idea what a nail set was until I met Davis - with all the projects we've done around the house I've gotten to know our nail set very well, but I am over 30 - Oliver is not quite 2! For those who are not familiar with a nail set here is a definition:

"A nail set is a small metal tool that looks much like an icepick. When you hammer finish nails into wood, you often cannot hit the nail the last quarter-inch or so into the wood or you will damage the surface of the wood. The tip of the nail set is placed on the head of the finish nail. Finish nails usually have a small dent on their heads to allow for placement of a nail set. A hammer then hits the blunt end of the nail set, driving the finish nail the rest of the way into the wood."

While I wanted to support my little carpenter I was not ready to give him a small, relatively sharp piece of metal that, as pointed out in the definition above, resembles an ice pick. So I did what any wonderful mother would do - I told Oliver to wait until daddy got home from work and daddy would help him find the nail set. Thankfully Davis is an incredibly resourceful and talented father - within minutes of being home Davis made Oliver his very own nail set. The two of them spent the rest of the evening doing work, with their nail sets, around the house.

Note that both boys are holding their nail sets and hammers in the picture above.

Oliver has also started to take on some other daddy-like habits - most notably Oliver has started to wear "hot pants." I am almost embarrassed to admit it, my two boys love their hot pants.

I learned about Davis' hot pants soon after we met. Davis headed to the pool for a swim and pulled out a Speedo and declared them his hot pants. Hmmm. A good number of people were introduced to the hot pants the morning after our wedding. We got up and decided to head down to the Coconut Grove to help with the clean up. I got dressed and took the road down to the house. Davis on the other hand put on his hot pants and swam down to the Coconut Grove. After emerging from the water he spent a good couple hours cleaning up - wearing only his hot pants. If you could have seen my sister's face when she woke up to the sight...

As Davis' training for the Channel Swim is taking up more and more of his time, he is spending more and more of his time in his hot pants - given the reason, I am supportive of Davis' hot pants.

Oliver's hot pants are a bit different- however they are equally as small as Davis'. Oliver's hot pants are pajama shorts that are several sizes too small. I've tried to put them away several times, but each time I do Oliver cries and cries and then yells: "Mommy! Hot pants! Hot pants!," over and over again. It used to be that he just wanted to wear the hot pants to bed, but they have started to make an appearance during the day now too. Oliver picks out his clothes and I must say some of the combinations of late have been very interesting. I wish I had a picture of him in his too small shirt (read crop top), hot pants, and sneakers - I didn't get a picture of that, but I did capture these moments:

Night Night

Oliver has been a big part of putting together his new room. He has helped to remove the new bamboo flooring from the boxes, helped nail the bamboo in place, he's helped to put up the molding, helped to put up the new light and the new shade, and helped to arrange the furniture (despite all of this work, we still aren't finished with the room and so I still am not (as per Davis) supposed to show you the before and after shots).

Perhaps it is the level of involvement Oliver has had with the room, perhaps it is the twin bed frame (versus a mattress on the floor), or maybe it is the stuffed kitty Maggie gave him (and with which he falls asleep each night), or maybe it is something else - I could speculate until the cows come home, but really it is not the reason but what is happening in Oliver's new room - he's sleeping! After close to two years Oliver has decided that sleep may not be such a horrible thing. Some nights it is still a battle to say good-bye to outside and good-bye to trucks and trains and blocks, but eventually we do make it up to Oliver's bed and eventually he does fall asleep, tucked in between his dino sheets and hugging kitty. For nap time we still need to sit on the couch, take a walk or a drive to fall asleep, but once he is done he let's me bring him up to his room and tuck him into bed, and he sleeps.

I do have a confession to make though. While Oliver does go to sleep in his room, I bring him to our bed when Davis and I head upstairs. I bring him in because we've not yet secured his book shelf to the wall and I don't want him to get hurt if he decides to scale it at night. There are also a few pieces of molding on the floor that have yet to be put up and I don't want him to get hurt on those. Also, the bed and mattress don't really work together - there is a large gap between the end of the mattress and the end of the bed frame and I worry that he'll get hurt there (he does get stuck in there when he playing on the bed, so my worry is not unfounded). So, until we remedy these things Oliver will remain snuggled between Davis and me each night. The reality is that neither Davis nor I are rushing to get these last projects done. Speaking for myself, I will be sad when the projects are done and I won't have to go into his room and scoop him up and bring him, fast asleep, to our bed. Oliver moved into our bed when he was 5 months old, so he's been in our bed for more than a year and a half. There have been many nights I've cursed (sometimes under my breath, but many times loud and in a not very mommy-like manner) his presence (he has been known to do round house kicks to every body part, to take up the whole bed, pull hair...). Those times aside, I love having him with us. I love that he will roll over and say "hold you, hold you mommy" and give me a big hug in the middle of the night. I also love when he will wake up in the middle of the night and say "hi mommy" or "hi daddy" and won't fall back asleep until we say hi back. I also am always interested to see how we'll wake up. Some mornings he will sit up and give Davis and I a kiss and say "I love you," other mornings he'll just say "all done" and vault off the bed, other mornings he will produce a book and ask to be read to, and other mornings he'll starting identifying body parts - poking Davis and me saying "hair, nose, mouth...".

I know that in a short time he'll be in his bed all night, but for now I am going to cherish these last nights of snuggling and continue to drag my feet on finishing the last few pieces of Oliver's new room. I am also going to savor nap time (everyone said nap time was a welcome rest during the day, until a couple weeks ago I had yet to experience it - it really is wonderful).

Happy, happy baby

Today was a big day. Today we, once again, spied on the baby. Oliver was amazingly patient during the ultrasound and, unlike the previous times, actually seemed a bit interested. At one point he took a look at the screen and declared that the baby looked happy. He has continued this mantra throughout the day - he'll stop what he's doing, come over to my belly and say "happy baby." I do hope Oliver and the little one are communicating and that the baby is indeed happy.

Oliver did make the correct prediction - we are going to have a little girl!

Seeing the baby and learning the gender has made things much much more real. Until today the baby was pretty abstract. I am just starting to think about maternity clothes, just starting to get a belly, and (with a few exceptions) I've felt wonderful this entire pregnancy - given all of this, it has been pretty easy to forget I am pregnant. Another reason I keep forgetting I am pregnant is this -
Oliver has always had an endless amount of energy, but lately his energy level has increased by leaps and bounds. He has been sleeping - napping and at night - and now has an energy level that is endless times infinity (I can see Davis cringing now as he reads this - however, I declare it a good mathematical concept).


The only thing that appears to slow Oliver down is a double ear infection - he currently has his first and is none to pleased about it. On the positive side, he's been so snugly today - snuggling is rare these days as it is near impossible to get him to slow down long enough for a hug.

Making friends with salad

Homer Simpson says that "you don't make friends with salad." While salad is loved in our house (and is part of most every meal), there have been a couple of events that have made us question if Homer was right: Event 1: Oliver is just a few months old and I am carrying him in the Ergo (baby carrier) and somehow manage to drop a salad spinner on his head and give him his first cut (and scar) (not the best moment in my life). Event 2: Davis is preparing a special dinner - preparing it before he and Oliver pick me up at the airport following my trip to Detroit - and he manages to cut a knife stuck in his hand as he is making the salad. He ends up in the emergency room and gets 5 stitches.

This weekend we had a wonderfully positive (and friendly) experience with salad (so there Homer!). Oliver is growing tomatoes, strawberries and lettuce and this weekend his lettuce was ready to be harvested. We managed to cut, wash and eat the lettuce with no trip to the emergency room and no cuts or scars. We are eagerly awaiting Oliver's tomatoes and strawberries.

Silly

We have been having some very interesting conversations at our house of late, the majority of which have to do with babies. Why all the conversations about babies? Because we are expecting a baby in mid-November. We won't find out if the baby is a girl or a boy until next week, but if you ask Oliver his answer is that we are going to have a Carragh (Carragh is his best friend and we fear that he is going to be sorely disappointed when the baby arrives and is not immediately a playmate).

We have been trying to make Oliver as involved and informed as possible in an attempt to prepare him for the arrival of his new sibling. He's been coming to my appointments with the midwives and now loves to say there is a baby in mommy's tummy that goes "boom, boom, boom" (the sound of the heart beat). He was much more excited about this revelation than he was at seeing the baby at the couple of ultrasounds we've had thus far. Perhaps he will find the next ultrasound more interesting?

Oliver is very sweet right now, with the exception of the round house kicks to the belly I continue to get all night while Oliver fitfully sleeps beside me, he loves coming up and kissing my belly or coming up and saying hi to the baby (belly). Usually after giving the belly a kiss or saying hi Oliver looks up at me and declares it "silly" that there is a baby in my tummy. I have to agree with him - it is pretty silly.

We have been doing some work and rearranging to the upstairs of our house - converting the guest room/office to a room that Oliver and the baby will share (we've made great progress, but Davis won't let me post pictures until he finishes putting up the molding). The other day I told Oliver that in a few months we'd be adding a bed for the baby to the room. He got very excited and showed me where he thinks we should put it, got out his tape measure and declared the spot the right fit. He then told me that with a clamp, scissors, duct tape, batteries, a knife and Daddy he could construct a bed for the baby. Interesting. He then followed this up with flushing the tape measure down the toilet (we can add this to the man, key chain, clothes, and paintbrush that have all taken the plunge).

And then yesterday we had another bizarre conversation. While I was at the gym Davis showed Oliver pictures of me when I was pregnant with Oliver. It was a good idea, but when I got home Oliver lifted up my shirt and said he wanted to go back in my tummy. It took some explaining, but finally we convinced Oliver that 1) he couldn't go back in my tummy (he couldn't fit) and 2) he didn't really want to (if he was in my tummy he couldn't go to Henry's birthday party). Phew.

Yesterday was one of the best rainy days we've had in a long time - it was bright sunny and in the 80s all day (the forecast had been for rain all day). We went to Henry's third birthday party, then took a bike ride and then spent the rest of the day at the beach - pretty nice for a rainy day. I think Oliver was very pleased with his decision to enjoy the day outside of my tummy. He enjoyed each moment of yesterday to its fullest - finally crashing while we were on our bike ride.

Memorial Day Weekend

Oliver loves going to Maine because he gets to work and play hard - and he gets lots of love and attention from family and friends - this Memorial Day weekend was no exception.

Although it was a bit chilly, we spent two afternoons out on the water. Oliver spent a good amount of the excursions asleep, but when he was awake he kept us on our toes - he liked climbing all over the boat, trying to climb out of the boat, and driving.

Another highlight of the weekend was skateboarding. Oliver goes skateboarding with Maggie and Tommy (from across the street), but skateboarding with daddy and Uncle Jon - there is no comparison.


Note the high-five at the start of the video-


We took in Camden's Memorial Day Parade. It was about 5 minutes long, about twice as long as it was last year, and the perfect length for an almost two year and (and his mom). Oliver loved seeing the trucks, drums, and animals (animals from the local animal shelter are part of the parade) go by.
Sleep was also a large piece of the weekend. Not only has Oliver surprised us with giving us a record 5 nights in a row where he has gotten up just once (please don't let me have just jinxed us!), but he also managed to surprise me by getting so tired out that he fell asleep eating an ice cream cone. Honestly, I never thought either of the two sleep events would ever happen.

(And an update from a previous post - we are still "snack free!")