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| Evan sports a fauxhawk for crazy hair day at daycare. |
18 April 2012
15 April 2012
Sunny Sunday
Evan and I missed our opportunity to watch David autocross today, his first event of the season. So instead, we enjoyed the beautiful weather close to home. We walked to the park and did some swingin'.
Regardless of his total lack of expression, he actually enjoys the swinging quite a bit. I think it's just weird and requires some concentration. So much concentration that he can't possibly smile at the same time.
When he was back in his stroller, he was all giggles and chatty. We stopped on a bench to watch the ducks.
We walked home "the long way" and saw kids playing, dogs walking, lawns being mowed and flowers in bloom. And, this is what you get after just an hour of neighborhood adventures.
14 April 2012
Frenemies
I can't believe I almost forgot to post about this. A week or two ago, we got to daycare and were greeted with an incident report. This is not unusual; they fill them out for everything.
One of Evan's friends had bitten him on the belly! You could tell that Ms. Betty was used to the whole gamut of reactions to such a report because she seemed very cautious about telling us. Meanwhile, I was like, "Well, what did he do to deserve that?" (Not really...just in my thoughts.) And David was like, "He's still wearing what we dropped him off in, so there wasn't enough blood to change his clothes-- not impressed." (Not really...just in his thoughts.) We're good parents.
Seriously though, it was very minor-- tiny mark on his belly that was way smaller than a fresh gash on his face that he had inflicted on himself. Nonetheless, I'm glad they're so diligent about the paperwork.
We had our suspicions about who did it. They, of course, couldn't tell us. We were sure it was his gf. She's a mean little kid. We've seen her knock him over and climb on top of him to get his pacifier. She doesn't even take a pacifier; she just doesn't want the other kids to have one either.
The weird thing was that everyone I told said it seemed odd for kids that age (0-12 months) to bite.
And then, the very next day, there was an area taped off on the floor that said "Older children must stay behind this line." So, now we think one of the older siblings came in during drop off and bit him!
We're just left wondering. Was it gf's equally angry older sister? Was it whiney boy's whiney older brother getting revenge because Evan's the favorite? Or maybe it was girl-with-the-stupid-name's brother with a stupider name. Obviously, we have no idea but it's fun to speculate who gave our special snowflake his first daycare battle wound.
[No bite pics, sorry.]
One of Evan's friends had bitten him on the belly! You could tell that Ms. Betty was used to the whole gamut of reactions to such a report because she seemed very cautious about telling us. Meanwhile, I was like, "Well, what did he do to deserve that?" (Not really...just in my thoughts.) And David was like, "He's still wearing what we dropped him off in, so there wasn't enough blood to change his clothes-- not impressed." (Not really...just in his thoughts.) We're good parents.
Seriously though, it was very minor-- tiny mark on his belly that was way smaller than a fresh gash on his face that he had inflicted on himself. Nonetheless, I'm glad they're so diligent about the paperwork.
We had our suspicions about who did it. They, of course, couldn't tell us. We were sure it was his gf. She's a mean little kid. We've seen her knock him over and climb on top of him to get his pacifier. She doesn't even take a pacifier; she just doesn't want the other kids to have one either.
The weird thing was that everyone I told said it seemed odd for kids that age (0-12 months) to bite.
And then, the very next day, there was an area taped off on the floor that said "Older children must stay behind this line." So, now we think one of the older siblings came in during drop off and bit him!
We're just left wondering. Was it gf's equally angry older sister? Was it whiney boy's whiney older brother getting revenge because Evan's the favorite? Or maybe it was girl-with-the-stupid-name's brother with a stupider name. Obviously, we have no idea but it's fun to speculate who gave our special snowflake his first daycare battle wound.
[No bite pics, sorry.]
12 April 2012
08 April 2012
07 April 2012
Magnus Thunder
That's Evan's tough alter ego name. He's such a sweet, smiley, chatty boy... until Magnus Thunder comes out. Magnus Thunder destroys everything in sight. I have very few pictures of Magnus Thunder because I cannot wield a camera and manage Magnus.
I posted before about how he uses his toys in alternative ways. He's recently figured out how to rip the noisy part off of one of them. And, he'll use any handheld toy that ends up in his hand as a hammer. Also, the sippy cup is a hammer too, and my kitchen table has the divots to prove it. And, to take the kitchen destruction one step further, he drops the sippy cup onto the tile floor-- I'm sure it doesn't have many more drops left in it-- and grabs the white curtains, but not until his hands are sufficiently grubby.
The other day, I left him playfully rolling around on the living room floor. I came back, no more than three minutes later, to find him flailing his arms and legs, happy as a clam, screaming in delight and covered in magazines. Ripping them, shredding them, soaking them with slobber.
Related to that, I like to sit on the living room floor and clip coupons on Sunday morning after our newspaper-like coupon book is delivered. He'll roll over and start pulling pieces out of the stack. I'll give him "his coupons"-- the glossy pizza ads usually hold up to his destructive ways the best-- and slide him across the room, away from my stack. He goes ca-razy with his coupons. Until he realizes that I still have coupons. Then he rolls back over and starts tearing at my stack again. I spend most of the time moving my stack away from him and saying, "Evan (Magnus), your coupons are OVER THERE!" I think he's a future super couponer.
He cannot be changed on his changing table anymore. He's like kamikaze baby the minute his butt hits the changing pad. He arches and twists and turns. He grabs the prepared diaper or his pajamas or whatever is laying close and starts chewing on it. He launches the diaper bin, the wipes, tissues and any other innocent bystander baby item onto the floor. He is completely unfazed by having a crack full of poop. In fact, that might energize him to twist and flail even more violently. It's a game, a game that I'm not winning.
I have a feeling this is just the beginning of this kid's path of destruction...
I posted before about how he uses his toys in alternative ways. He's recently figured out how to rip the noisy part off of one of them. And, he'll use any handheld toy that ends up in his hand as a hammer. Also, the sippy cup is a hammer too, and my kitchen table has the divots to prove it. And, to take the kitchen destruction one step further, he drops the sippy cup onto the tile floor-- I'm sure it doesn't have many more drops left in it-- and grabs the white curtains, but not until his hands are sufficiently grubby.
The other day, I left him playfully rolling around on the living room floor. I came back, no more than three minutes later, to find him flailing his arms and legs, happy as a clam, screaming in delight and covered in magazines. Ripping them, shredding them, soaking them with slobber.
Related to that, I like to sit on the living room floor and clip coupons on Sunday morning after our newspaper-like coupon book is delivered. He'll roll over and start pulling pieces out of the stack. I'll give him "his coupons"-- the glossy pizza ads usually hold up to his destructive ways the best-- and slide him across the room, away from my stack. He goes ca-razy with his coupons. Until he realizes that I still have coupons. Then he rolls back over and starts tearing at my stack again. I spend most of the time moving my stack away from him and saying, "Evan (Magnus), your coupons are OVER THERE!" I think he's a future super couponer.
He cannot be changed on his changing table anymore. He's like kamikaze baby the minute his butt hits the changing pad. He arches and twists and turns. He grabs the prepared diaper or his pajamas or whatever is laying close and starts chewing on it. He launches the diaper bin, the wipes, tissues and any other innocent bystander baby item onto the floor. He is completely unfazed by having a crack full of poop. In fact, that might energize him to twist and flail even more violently. It's a game, a game that I'm not winning.
I have a feeling this is just the beginning of this kid's path of destruction...
01 April 2012
A fun place to play...
...and some much needed confinement.
And it was even more fun when I tied a belt around the handle and took him for a ride through the house on The Laundry Express. Chooo! Chooo!
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