Family Day at Daddy's Work

Oliver got to visit Mommy at work a few weeks ago, but I work for a finance agency and sit in a cubicle, so it couldn't have been that exciting, except that one of my co-workers drew Oliver pictures of fire trucks and he really liked that. 

But today Oliver got to visit Daddy's work and that had to have been a lot more exciting.  Chris works for Andersen Windows, so his work place has big machines, tools and forklifts.  And it was Family Day, so company provided a huge breakfast and various activities set up for the kids, who otherwise aren't allowed in the plant.  There were carnival-type games, like Plinko and bean bag toss, (after tossing his bean bag, Oliver then wanted to slide down the bean bag stand) with prizes, but the cutest activity was where the kids constructed "piggy" banks to look like replica Narroline windows.  After 50 years, the company is retiring the product. 

Oliver constructs his Narroline "piggy" bank.

Chris said the people who work in the model shop, (the guys who build the displays for the dealers and contractors who sell their products) spent a few weeks custom cutting all the pieces of wood and plexi-glass windows and designing the directions. 

Back on the Wagon

Two Christmases ago I finally rejoined a gym.  A month after writing a post about wanting to get back in shape and have "me time" through exercise, I found out I was pregnant and was hit with almost immediate morning sickness that would last for weeks.  During the worst of it, I couldn't even partake in exercise as simple as going for a walk.  I wouldn't step back in the gym for nearly a year. 

I'm finally back though!  I'm very fortunate to have a gym a few minute's walk from my office and go most days over my lunch hour.  The road back to some resemblance of my pre-pregnancy physical fitness is going to take a lot longer (A LOT) than I would like, but even if I don't look good, at least I feel good after a workout.  

Well, I didn't feel good at first. Nearly three months had passed after Soren's birth before I felt like I could even attempt a workout, which was frustrating because at that point after Oliver's birth, I was playing my first post-pregnancy soccer game.  Admittedly, I almost threw up in a trash can at half time, but I could fit into my jersey again and, hey, I was out there.  Fast forward to exercising after Soren's birth and I was starting to feel too sore after ten minutes at a less-than-moderate pace on the elliptical that I had to stop.  Even thinking about playing a soccer game?  Forget it.  I managed more of a work-out the second time I went to the gym, but still had to cut my time short when I started to feel sore.

Even though I was frustrated, I kept going and pretty soon after my first attempt at going back to the gym, I stopped feeling post-surgery soreness.  At the coaxing of a co-worker who knew I wanted to get back into lifting weights, I started going to Body Pump at the Y and got addicted.  And the mild winter meant that I was out walking with one or both kids nearly every weekend of the entire weekend.  (Unprecedented for a Minnesota winter.)  And the early spring allowed me to go on my first run, since, oh gosh, months and months before I even became pregnant with Soren.  I just recently signed up for a summer soccer league.  Not with my beloved Hansa, but with another equally-fun team who will hopefully have a deep bench so I can take lots of breaks.

I just wish I had more to show for all this exercise I'm writing about getting.  I don't know what is different after giving birth to your second child than your first, but I've discovered that my friends weren't exaggerating when they said it was more difficult for them to lose weight after their second.  I think a big factor for me was that I gained a lot more weight with Soren than with Oliver.  Since I had a toddler to take care of, I had very little time to exercise and then how sick you are during any given pregnancy is luck of the draw.  I was eating what I could just to tame the nausea and get through the day.

Despite my frustrations, I do appreciate exercising post-pregnancy. I tell my friends that being six plus months post partum one would assume that I've forgotten what it feels like to be pregnant.  Yet I can still appreciate being able to a.) bound up a flight of stairs, and b.) not be out of breath.  Every time I bend over to stretch or do crunches, I revel in how such moves are physically possible. And wow, I can actually feel the existence of ab muscles!  I like moving again.  I like having the energy to exercise. And I know I'll reach my fitness goals somehow and someday.

Our Second Foray into Baby-Led Weaning

The kids have identical booster seats and when they sat side-by-side in their seats at the dinner table, Soren looked so tiny in his compared with his big brother.  But he looked so pleased to be sitting there on his own and among his family.  Soren was ready to start solids and with that, ready to start another milestone.

Being that we're a lot more relaxed as second-time parents, we've approached the solid food stage with much fewer expectations than we had with Oliver.  And we're so much busier and distracted now that Soren's first introductions to solids were mere afterthoughts as I looked at my dinner plate for something suitable to offer him.  And when he wasn't interested in nibbling from my plate, I wasn't let down, because clearly I had not gone to any extra effort to prepare him anything.   Eventually I did prepare something for him, a banana, but he just stared at for awhile.  And this is from a kid who tries to put everything in his mouth, even my head, when he grasps clumps of my hair with his fists and tries to suck on my forehead.  Five minutes later he got bored of looking at the banana and cried to get out.

The past couple of nights Soren finally began to show interest in food.  I gave him some steamed broccoli and while he just stared at it at first and looked on the verge of tears, we ignored him and continued eating our dinner and a minute later I glanced over and he was trying to shove a broccoli floret, stem first, into his mouth with both fists.  He spent the rest of dinner happily gnawing on his vegetables.  Among the other traditional and not-so-traditional first foods Soren has experienced have been steamed green beans, pears and quinoa veggie burgers.   

Homemade Water Table

I guess like any kid, Oliver loves playing with sand and water.  That's why sand and water tables - where the equivalent of a sandbox or kiddie pool full of water are propped up to toddler height - are such a big hit  When there's one set up in his ECFE classroom, the teachers have to referee the kids who crowd around it.  And the Children's Museum has a couple huge water tables with clear plastic pipes they can direct water and ping pong balls through.  It often takes coaxing to get Oliver to move on to another gallery.  The rice box that I set up months ago and Oliver has yet to grow tired of is just another variation of the sand table. 

After a winter of vacuuming up rice, (and lentils too) I was looking forward to moving the sand/water table-type activities outside and I thought it would be a worthwhile investment to get Oliver his own water table.  Last summer he loved filling buckets with water and "painting" the sidewalk with the brushes his dad would pick up for him at Home Depot.  A water table would be even more fun and we wouldn't have to repeatedly refill the bucket Oliver loved dumping all over the sidewalk.

When I didn't find anything on Craig's List, I checked out new water tables.  I was looking for a simple design like this one from Lakeshore Learning. 

What I wasn't looking for was the $90 price tag. 

Luckily for Oliver, he has a very handy dad, so instead he got this...



Oliver plays with his new homemade water table.

Chris followed the Sand and Water Table plans I found online and spent a grand total of $27.  And the price was only that high because he bought an $11 drill bit and $4 sink plug to create what I consider a very necessary upgrade - a drain.  Otherwise the cost would have just been a $12 cement tub.  The other materials, lumber, sandpaper and clearcoat, (not yet applied when the above picture was taken) were leftover from previous projects.

Soren Update: 6 months

I think I felt sorrier for Soren, who grinned broadly at the nurse right before she jabbed three shots into his thighs, than Oliver, who cried from beginning to end of every appointment, (and still does to some degree now) so I don't think the vaccinations were that much more traumatic for Oliver than any other part of the appointment.  Maybe he knew what was coming, while Soren lay on the exam table smiling and cooing in blissful ignorance until his peaceful world was abruptly shattered.

Luckily Soren recovered so quickly from the shots he received during this six-month wellness visit that he had stopped crying before I even picked him up and has been a happy little guy ever since.  His visit was otherwise uneventful.  I had zero questions for the doctor and politely nodded my head as she rattled through the brief spiel she tells all parents of six-month-olds - it was nothing I haven't heard before.  Like every pediatrician we encounter, she skipped her comments about introducing solids when she found out we're doing baby-led weaning.  In fact, she thought it was great and commented it was probably easier. 

Since I'd taken Soren (and Oliver) in two weeks ago to have their ears checked before we left for Philadelphia, Soren's stats weren't a big surprise, but I was curious about his percentiles.  He's in the 25th percentile for both height and weight at 25 and a half inches long and 14 pounds and 12 ounces.  He's grown almost a half a foot since birth and just about doubled his birth weight. His head circumference is in the 45th percentile for what that's worth. 

Soren's most recent milestone came in the last week (and I'm actually a week behind in his monthly updates).  He can sit up really well by himself.  For the most part, I don't leave him unspotted, because even though he can sit up on his own for minutes at a time and even reach for toys without losing his balance, he can still topple over without warning.  Just recently though, I'll venture more than arm's distance away from him if he's sitting on the rug with some pillows stacked behind him.  I figure he can't do too much damage to himself in that scenario. 

We're having trouble with naps and sleeping through the night again.  Because Soren is such an easy-going baby, I was surprised by how traveling affected his naps, (basically caused him to be unable to take any unless I was carrying him in the Ergo) but wasn't surprised when we came home and he started waking repeatedly at night, a couple times earlier in the evening and then another round of awakenings starting at 3:30 a.m. or 4:30 a.m.  I just assumed that after a night or two back in his own crib, his sleep schedule would be back on track.  However, we found ourselves sleep training all over again.  After a week of this, we discovered that putting Soren to bed earlier helped.  We had been putting him to bed at 7:00 p.m., because that's when Oliver goes to bed, but at least for now, 6:30 p.m. or 6:15 p.m. isn't too early for him.  He still wakes one or two times during the night wanting his pacifier, but otherwise has been sleeping until about 6:15 a.m. 

I may be imagining this, but I think Soren's spitting up problem is starting to subside.  Again, this is something I've just noticed in the last week.  All babies spit up as infants, but Soren seemed to do so a lot more, at least in comparison to Oliver.  It didn't seem to matter how long it had been since Soren ate, because if you picked him up and put any pressure on his tummy, a curdled surprise came out without warning.  Between the spit-up and excessive drool, it seems the front of Soren's clothes and his sleeves are always wet.

And no, the drool and gnawing on his fists doesn't mean he's teething.  I get a lot of, "Oh, he must be teething," comments.  I haven't felt any teeth and the doctor couldn't see any during today's visit.  I think he's just a drooler and he's been shoving his fists in his mouth as soon as he learned how.  He recently discovered his feet, so for something different, he'll stick a few toes in his mouth. 

One of the greatest joys I'm experiencing with Soren is witnessing how interested he is in his older brother.  He loves watching Oliver play and even if he's tired or fussy, Oliver brightens his mood.  And every now and then, Oliver will kiss or hug Soren with such tenderness. These remarkable interactions are bittersweet, because I know it's inevitable that the time will too quickly come when Soren is moving about and can get into Oliver's things and when they're old enough to bicker and call each other horrible names.  I'm already dreading the day when they start fighting and I wish I could somehow bottle up this innocence and love and keep them that way forever.

Potty Training - Just the Beginning

We were never sure when to officially start potty training with Oliver.  Since this milestone is by a long shot our least favorite part of parenting in the early childhood years, (like, leaps and bounds ahead of even dealing with tantrums) we weren't particularly motivated to start.  We've been in the toilet awareness phase for a few months now, where Oliver can tell us when he's gone, is interested in when mom and dad use the toilet, and loves making a game out of sitting on his potty chair.  But we've never put any formal toilet-training strategy in place.  The most we've done is remind him during diaper changes that he should tell us he needs to go and we'll let him sit on the potty.  Otherwise, we seem to be letting Oliver potty-train himself and hope he just magically gets the hang of it.

Tonight he announced that he wanted to go upstairs and use the potty.  Since he usually goes off and hides to do his business, I thought maybe there was some seriousness to his request, so we trekked upstairs. 

Low and behold, he went on the potty!  I had one of those I-know-I've-become-a-parent moments when I clapped and cheered at the sight of poop in the bowl of his toilet chair. 

My excitement quickly waned when Oliver wanted to try again, and I had to concentrate on keeping myself from gagging while dumping the contents into the regular toilet.  I deal with my kids' poop every day, but for some reason this variation of cleaning up after my kids' bodily fluids was almost too much to handle.

Be Kind

From Kurt Vonnegut's God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater, this quote struck a cord with me:

 "Hello, babies. Welcome to Earth. It's hot in the summer and cold in the winter. It's round and wet and crowded. At the outside, babies, you've got about a hundred years here. There's only one rule that I know of, babies—God damn it, you've got to be kind."

There are a lot of traits I've hoped for in my kids - smart, cute, charming - but above all, I want nice kids.  I can't imagine anyone wanting his or her child to be unloving, unkind or a bully.  No, I think all us parents imagine that our kids will be the ones who as toddlers willingly share their trucks and sand shovels, as school-age kids want to invite every student in the class to their birthday parties so no one feels left out, and who as a high schoolers invites the new kid or the loner to join their lunch table.  They'll be the ones all the others parents agree are nice. Or caring, or sweet, or empathetic, or some variation thereof.  Because I believe that kindness will take you far in life. 

Easter

One of the beautiful things that has come out of my dad's marriage to Debbie has been lively and large family gatherings.  The Partenheimers will never rival the size of Chris's family, the Polish version of My Big Fat Greek Wedding, but when I at one point felt like my family was nearing extinction, witnessing at Easter how much my family has grown was really special. 

I've rarely been home for Easter since I was in high school, but the pace of the weekend seemed as if it were making up for lost time.  We got in dinner at my brother's apartment where we met his lovely girlfriend and her warm and crazy family, we watched a Silly String fight unfold between my step-niece and -nephew, we ran with the kids around the yard as they hunted for Easter eggs, we let Oliver gorge himself on chocolate until his lips and the perimeter of his mouth was smeared with brown, we enjoyed the attention our children attracted from every single little old lady who lived in my grandmother's retirement home where we were staying. By the time we got home on Easter Monday, I wanted a nap. 

It was great to spend time with my family, but the visit was not without some effort given that we had to get our growing family on a plane and fly from Minnesota to Philadelphia.  It wasn't the flight itself that was the difficult part, it was transporting our stuff.  We packed three large suitcases, three carry-ons, a stroller and two car seats - for a four-day trip.  I felt ridiculous when I finally had everything packed up the night before and realized how much we were bringing.  I'm sure we turned some heads at the airport with Chris carrying a backpack and pushing Oliver's stroller with his car seat draped over the back while pulling large suitcase #1 behind him, and me with Soren strapped to my front in the Ergo, carrying a backpack and pushing large suitcase #2 and pulling large suitcase #3 behind me.  I saw no way to avoid the amount of luggage.  We couldn't not bring the car seats (at least we checked them this time) and then there's all the gear and a gazillion changes of clothes kids need.  Our carry-ons duplicated, just on a smaller scale, the contents we'd packed in the suitcases - extra change of clothes, diapers, wipes, toys, books, snacks and so on - because you have to be prepared for anything once you're confined to your seats on a plane.  The only thing low-profile about our packing was that the only stroller we brought was an umbrella stroller instead of the double stroller I sometimes refer to as "the tank."

After everyone and everything made it safely to the airport, we boarded a 7:15 a.m. flight.  While it was painful to get up so early, the morning flight was perfect timing for the kids. We made the slightly-over-two-hour flight to Philadelphia before Oliver's nap time, which meant he was actually in a great mood the whole flight.  We set him up with his coloring books and an iPad loaded with Thomas the Train and Bob the Builder movies and he was happy.  Soren has reached the point where he needs to nap in his crib, so it was a struggle for him to fall asleep in my arms, and he fussed a lot from the time we pulled away from the gate to take-off.  About a minute after take-off though, his eyelids started drooping and 30 seconds later he was out. 

We almost made it to our final destination without one mishap or meltdown when we hit traffic. At 11:30 a.m. on a Friday. With two suddenly overtired and hungry kids screaming in the backseat.  And a Garmin that was determined to detour us through the "real" side of Philadelphia.  Our luck turned around when we ended up driving through the University of Pennsylvania and Drexel University campuses and found a parking spot behind a row of gourmet food trucks and across the street from a park.  We ended up eating some of the best food of our trip and Oliver got to run around on a gorgeous sunny spring day.  It was an adventure, but the experience did make me worried about ever attempting to travel by myself with the kids or even how we'd travel with a third kid. 

The rest of the weekend was a whirlwind time with extended family, some of whom were meeting Soren for the first time.  One of the most precious memories for me was watching my grandmother hold her newest great-grandson for the first time.  She'd brought him a book and he sat on her lap and looked intently at the pictures as she read to him.  Then he leaned in and tried to eat the book. 

Another favorite moment was watching my grandmother play with Oliver on the playground we went to the next morning.  She "drove" the bus with him, pushed him on the swings, played hide and seek and, ever the nervous type, helped spot him as he climbed on the play equipment. 

After commenting on how many neat improvements they'd made to the playground over the years, (she used to bring me to this playground when I was little) she examined a spiral ladder and announced she thought it'd be fun to climb. I encouraged her to go for it. "Nah," she said. "Maybe if no one was around," she finished with a bashful smile.