I was successfully able to retrieve the letter Y alphabet train card from the gap above the dishwasher and below the counter, using a butter knife and a barbecue skewer. However, the missing potty pot remains missing after an extensive search. Hopefully Quinn didn't pick this time to use it for the third time ever.
Being an engineering geek, some of my favourite times with Quinn are when I'm explaining how something works to him. It's especially fun when he gets into his "I'm learning something" mode, where he gets quiet and attentive, and sometimes even makes lyrical "hmmmMmm" sounds. Today it officially transitioned to him actively wondering. "How it works?" he said a couple times today. And then he'd listen attentively while I explained as best I could in terms he'd understand.
The first was the dishwasher. He got a big kick out of me describing how the water comes out of the holes in the spinny things, and he spun the spinny things around for awhile. (Hopefully the dishwasher doesn't suffer the same fate as our currently ailing vacuum cleaner, which has spent a little too much time as a pumper firetruck.)
The second was his toy fishing rod. "How it works?" he said? And so I got a pen and a string and showed how when you turned the pen with the string attached to it, the string wound around the pen, and turning the handle on the fishing rod was like turning the pen. He wanted to see inside the fishing rod. I got a screwdriver and started to take it apart, but alas one of the screws stripped and we couldn't get into it. (You just can't get a good used toy plastic fishing rod for $1.89 any more)
Inquisitive, this boy, and in an analytical way too. I have to say that at the outset I was sort of dreading the "why" phase, but right now I'm quite excited about it. Several people have commented about his analytic tendencies. Wait til I start showing him spreadsheets! He makes his engineer daddy proud!
Quinn yelled for 2 hours and 35 minutes at bedtime tonight. That's 9300 seconds. Uttering "Want Mommy" approximately every 4 seconds, that totals about two thousand, three hundred and twenty five times he repeated himself. Now, I know he's a ways off from an engineering degree, but you'd think he'd get it after awhile - we're not coming in.
It was an hour fifty last night. Naps have gone to heck - wail on the way down, sleep short, wail when he wakes up. How can it be so bad after this long?? We're a house full of stress hormones because of it, that's for sure. Maybe it's his campaign to be an only child.
Does sleep trouble cause the stress, or does stress cause the sleep trouble? After a grueling week of analyzing and debating, through household illnesses and on limited sleep, I'm changing jobs to try to reduce my stress level. Maybe my stress is transferring to him? I'm trying to do my part to fix it. Hopefully our lot's lot improves. A lot.
The canal opened this week for skating. It's quite warm right now (+1C) but we decided to chance it with low expectations, just taking Quinn walking around on the slushy ice if necessary. It turned out to be a lot of fun! Quinn was in the chariot. We skated probably 4 km. It had good patches where you could actually skate and others where you just tried to stay upright. But it was better than we expected and we stopped for a Beavertail, so it was all good.
After Beavertails, Quinn walked up and down the stairs (nice new stairs this year by the way - I guess they figured they'd replace the 40 year old sets this year). He got a glint in his eye and tried to run like mad on the asphalt pathway at the top of the stair, with Bec in hot pursuit in her skates. Luckily she caught him in time. Then Bec and I took turns skating around with Quinn suspended, sliding between our legs. Back and forth, circles, arcing side to side. Quinn had a great big grin on the whole time.
Then we skated back and played in the snow at Green's Creek for awhile before heading home. A good outing all around.
"It's *bathtime*! Do you want to walk to the tub on your own?"
(ThumpThumpThumpThumpThumpThump GiggleGiggle.) He plunges down the hallway with a wild grin on his face, feet pumping, arms waving.
"That's not the bathroom. Come out of the office and let's go to the bathtub."
(ThumpThumpThumpThumpThumpThump GiggleGiggle) A little naked bum careens down the hall.
"That's not the bathroom. Come out of mommy and daddy's bedroom and let's go to the bathtub." (I hope he doesn't pee)
(ThumpThumpThumpThumpThumpThump GiggleGiggle)
"Got you, ok it's bathtime"
There's no purer joy than a little naked boop on the lam in the hallway.
Quinn saw me peeing just before his bath tonight. He then wanted to sit on the potty himself. Bec started to strip him down to do so, but upon encountering poopiness had to abort and retreat to the changetable. After that was taken care of Quinn came back into the bathroom and *still* wanted back on the potty, but this time the big potty. I started to say no and steer him toward the little potty, not wanting him to get freaked out by the prospect of falling into the big potty. But Bec plunked him right on the big potty and he seemed totally at home up there (with Bec holding him the whole time of course). We praised him and told him how high up he was. He sat there for a couple minutes, and when Bec picked him up there was evidence he'd actually peed!
I have to say I don't find diapers so bad in general. The whole potty learning phase sounds like it has more potential disgustingness but the books say we're at the right age to start it (too young - not ready; too old - ingrained in a pattern; now = the right time). When you break it down, it's a difficult thing to teach, really - the idea of a "full feeling", and particularly sensing that feeling in advance of the event. He seems to get it, and he seems keen. Hopefully it'll be a natural transition. Wish us luck!
Quinn can climb onto the dining room chairs now. And the computer desk chair. And the back of the rocking chair. He can push a chair out of the dining room to the entertainment unit and climb up to see what's on top. He's a good little monkey, but always very curious. (Wherever will I hang my yellow hat??) We're running out of safety zones for stuff he shouldn't have. The upside is he can do some stuff on his own (including draw in his book at the table - yay he's drawing now!). The down side is he can do some stuff on his own now.
And so we enter a new stage of independence. I suppose we should embrace it with education and encouragement and we'll do our best at that. He's always been quite good about listening, and about staying away from things he shouldn't have. We try to only say 'no' when it's important but when you do that a thousand times a day 'no' sometimes becomes unfortunately habitual. It's difficult to let go though, given how small and vulnerable he is. It just takes one incident. I suppose that will be a repeating refrain for the next, oh, 30 years. The fledging continues.
Bec's playing hockey tonight. I was quarterbacking bedtime. Quinn was very good, carrying his milk and walking upstairs all by himself. Everything when swimmingly and he got in the bath. Due to past events with gravity and, uh, 'fiber processing', we have instituted a 'no standing' rule in the tub. Tonight I let my guard down and neglected to say anything while he squatted with a train locomotive at the end of the tub. After a minute or so I noticed the 'floaties'. Uh oh. I whipped Quinn out of the tub. Salty The Train, Blue Whale and Theodore Too were removed, destined for the dishwasher. The rest would have to wait til after bedtime.
I got Quinn dried off while we chatted about how poop goes in diapers and potties but not in tubs. He seemed to get it but only time will tell I suppose. Since bathtime was short, we had a long read, which Quinn loves. The whole time I was dreading the cleanup that awaited me. Quinn, perhaps sensing the situation, went down like a dream. The cleanup went not too bad either, although I must say I noted that my guck-tolerance has increased a lot in the last two years.
It's only the third time that's happened in two years so I guess we're fortunate, although it took a little time before I was able to even consider that phrase tonight. We haven't started full-blown potty training but we're starting to think about it and lay some groundwork, so maybe this will be useful in the long run. Until then, only 'sitting' in the tub.
Sunday I took Quinn out into the relatively balmy -6C temperatures to get some fresh air. He had his big boots on, his big snowsuit, and the big mitts that snap onto it. I call it his space suit since he has all the mobility of an astronaut in it. He's getting used to the boots quite well and can now walk around not too badly. The mitts are a serious impediment though - the suit and mitts are a little big as of yet, and he can't grip anything.
I wasn't sure what he wanted to do, or could do outside. We're still figuring out the outside-in-the-winter thing. Including Quinn. He wandered around for a bit and ordered daddy to do a few things, but he really couldn't do much himself. I decided to try to figure out how to make winter outdoors fun for him.
I put him in the sleigh shovel and pushed him around some. He didn't really seem to get a kick out of that. I packed down the snow on the mini-hill I previously shoveled in the driveway; he walked on it a bit but that wasn't really working either. I plunked him on top of the mini hill; he liked that a little. I tried to slide him down the mini hill and that got a little giggle, but it was tough sledding and I couldn't scrounge a suitable sliding implement on short notice.
Next time Bec poked her head out the door, I asked her to get his knit mittens, which are quite a bit smaller. They wouldn't be good for serious cold or long jaunts being carried in the backpack, but it was relatively warm and he was moving about so we thought we'd try it for awhile and see how his hands fared heatwise. I managed to get his thumbs actually in the thumbholes which took a little doing. It's amazing what a difference that makes. He could grip most anything then.
For awhile we played fyonto yodo (front loader) in the snow, dumping into his dump truck. He liked that. I started shovelling a path in the backyard to the composter, more for something to do than anything else. Quinn started helping with his little yellow shovel. Then he gave me his little yellow shovel and he started pushing the great big sleigh shovel by himself and trying to tip it over like I do. He had the right idea! By then I'd finished the path to the composter and then he had a great time walking up and down the path, shovelling along the sides and walking in and out of some spurs I'd dug.
It was a slow start, but by the time it was time to come in he didn't want to, which I think is a sure sign he's learned to have some winter fun.
We did the usual bedtime routine tonight. In the bath, Quinn was a quite owly that he couldn't have Elfo Wattatan in the bathtub, since Elfo was downstairs awaiting a bath after the yogurt treatment Quinn gave him at breakfast. I don't know whether he was concerned that Elfo was inside the dishwasher, or whether he just didn't like that Daddy wasn't responding to orders very well.
Sometimes now Quinn opts for stories and cow's milk over breastfeeding at bedtime, so Bec usually has the bottle on hand in case he chooses that option. Tonight Bec realized she forgot it so I went to retrieve it. By the time I got back he was yelling the clearest sentence I've ever heard him utter - "I WANT READ FASSY NASSY BOOK" (Fancy Nancy - a book series involving a high maintenance little girl - Bec teases me about trying to get him to avoid them but I have to concede they're actually pretty good books...).
Once he was ready, he unexpectedly came out with "Daddy read book". This is unusual since Bec always puts him to bed when she's home. However, I've been putting him to bed more often recently as Bec's been out more, and it's become quite natural and fun. We asked him three times, and he was sure - he wanted daddy to read him a story and put him to bed. So Fancy Nancy notwithstanding, read I did! And a little proudly too I might add! He and I had a good weekend together and Bec mentioned this morning that he often seemed a little sad when I left for work on Monday mornings, so this was a perfect way to end the day. I'm really looking forward to 11 days off at Christmas and spending more time with him.
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