Boot Camp

This weekend is Boot Camp at my house. Not the physical kind, cause Lord knows I don't run (unless someone with a machete is chasing me). I am talking about Isaac's Potty Training Boot Camp.

I have heard from multiple mommies that this is the way to go. Isaac is so close, that I am hoping this weekend will cinch it for him.

The undies with Thomas the Tank Engine and Mickey Mouse have been bought. The waterproof crib liners are ready to be put on the furniture. There is a bucket of small prizes sitting by the potty.

Starting tomorrow morning, Isaac will wear underwear all day. Apparently the wet feeling of peeing yourself does the trick and will send him to the bathroom. I am really really REALLY hoping this does it. I am tired of buying diapers. He goes potty at school and at both his grandma's houses. Just not for me. I already have to clean up Luna's bathroom mishaps. I am kind of over changing the diapers too, when I know Isaac knows how to use the potty.

Fingers crossed that by Sunday night I will have a story of victory and not just a house that smells like urine.

Age Is Just A Number

Isaac is about 26 months old. I just had to look at the calendar to figure out the month math, because I stopped at 24 months. Lord help me once the fall rolls around and we hit the 30's months.

Anyway, this means a couple things. The most important one being...although I still call him my baby, he's a little boy now. He's a little boy with opinions and a fierce independent streak. Who's two years old. And cutting his back molars.

I refuse to call it the terrible two's. I am choosing to call it the "not so terrific two's" and hope for the best. I was told the pediatrician that there are 2 main components in this phase that attribute to the um...not so terrifc-ness: the inability to effectively communicate wants and needs in an understandable manner and the desire to test their boundaries and limits.

And OH BOY IS IT BECOMING NOT SO TERRIFIC.

I put my high-spirited little guy to bed on Saturday night completely exhausted after our excursion into SF to see friend D and his new puppy Emma, who Isaac calls "En-e-ma." He didn't nap but for 45 minutes. I was exhausted as well. It was an early night for both of us, and I went to bed eager and excited for our day together on Sunday, just me and him.

I can't tell you who woke up in that crib on Sunday morning. It was like a different child.

And since then, we have had screaming fits. Tantrums. Hair pulling (this is mine...I have literally buried my hands in my hair and pulled). Crying (both of us). Red faces. Throwing of things. Confiscation of toys.

Its been a long few days. And I am so happy to be at work, just to have escaped for a blissfull 8 hours.

Sunday was rough. Sunday night was rougher. Isaac didn't nap, but he did go into his crib and played happily for about 2.5 hours. By 8 pm, I was ready to trade him in. Seriously. By the time he went to bed, the house was a wreck. Dinner was cold. There were noodles and goldfish crackers smashed into the sofa cushions. The cats were cowering in fear (I might have shown Isaac how Guiliani likes to play kitty-copter. Which he does, just not with Isaac...I WAS DESPERATE PEOPLE!). I was exhausted, frustrated, and overwhelmed, so I did what any wife and mother would do. I yelled at my husband and was a complete and total a-hole to him. Then I shut myself in the bedroom and screamed into my pillow.

This morning...oh the horror.

I woke up Isaac for school. And like every other morning, he asked for his trucks. I gave him his  two favorites and like every other morning, we put them on his breakfast table. Unlike every other morning, he decided he did not want to eat breakfast or get dressed. He just wanted to play trucks. Sigh. I took the trucks away, turned them off and put them back on the table. 2 seconds later, guess what I heard? After 10 minutes of progressively louder and louder requests, finally, I took them away.

And when I say took them away, I guess I mean I ripped his arms off and beat him with them. Because that is sure what it sounded like.

He laid on the floor and screamed and cried for 20 minutes. When he finally stopped and nibbled some toast, it was time to go. By the time we left for school, his hair was disheveled, eyes were red, nose was running, and he was hungry. And exhausted. Both of us were after our mini-war. I was ready for stiff drink by 8 am.

I know it will get worse before it gets better. I know it will get better. I know every parent goes through this. And he still has his moments, where he sees me visably upset and comes over and says "Mama, what's wrong? What happened? Need a kiss?" and curls up in my lap and cuddles.

He's still my baby...and age is just a number.

I just may need to restock the liquor cabinet more frequently and buy more hats to hide the fact that I am yanking my hair out.

He's 2...Already!

My baby...he's 2. 2 years old. 24 months old. My itty bitty Peanut has turned into my adorable, independent and booming Isaac Boo. How did this happen?!

We took him to Chuck E Cheese on Tuesday, since my husband was off work. He had so much fun. I notice all the differences in him...how much he was growing. He was obsessed with the tokens or "money" like he called them. He kept dumping them out and counting them. Now, he can only count to 20, so he would then count backwards to 1 again and start over. Great fun.

 We celebrate with pizza. And big boy cups. That we may or may not still call "babas."

He rode the Bob the Builder forklift. He is an avid fan of driving. So when the ride actually started moving he was very excited.

Still a huge fan of slides too. He puts his arms up over his head and squeals "weeeeeeeeeeee!"

He is also a climber. And while Ben was playing skee ball, Isaac decided that he would climb up onto the game. And then run between skee ball alleys. He also liked to take the actual ball and just throw it into the holes. Which some strange kid told us was clearly cheating. He's 2, kid. And he misses half the time and the ball rolls back to us anyway.

 Again with the driving.....

Yesterday, I took him to a cupcakery to pick out a treat for his birthday. He chose a huge cookie as big as his head. And he ate almost the whole thing. I don't blame him, it was a damn good cookie. That's my boy! 

He's 2. I am having a hard time wrapping my mind around that. That this time last year, he wasn't even walking. That this time 2 years ago, I was holding a bitty baby in the hospital staring in awe at this tiny human we had created.

I still stare in awe. I love the person he is becoming. He's so happy. He is so full of life and so much personality. I see so much of myself in him, his fearless curiousity. His stubborn streak. His sense of humor and trying to make everyone laugh.

I love that smile. :) Happy birthday, Isaac Boo!

The P Word

Potty training. Ah, potty training. Where to begin? When to begin?

About a year ago, I wrote about how Isaac was learning he actually had bladder and bowel movements. Since then some progress has been made. Or so I hear. Apparently there have been occassions that Isaac has asked to go potty and then done his business on the big boy potty. He does not do this for me, so I like to think that people are making this up. I mean, I am his MOTHER. I am really the only person he needs to worry about impressing at this point. He should have figured out by now that MOMMY is the one with all the power in the house. And that the little girls at daycare aren't impressed by controlled pottying. They might be, but I don't think so.

Anyway, Isaac still sits on his potty for about 2 seconds before he gets in the bath. However, he has figured out that he just gets in the bath alot quicker if pees in his diaper beforehand. He knows what his potty is for.

He started pooping in the bath. It's gross. Nuff said. It tramatized him because when he did it, I FREAKED OUT ON HIM. I mean, he wasn't sick. Because that I understand. He intentionally pooped in the bath. So when he did it again, he was scared and started crying immediately. This time I don't really know if it was on purpose or accident. Can you ever really poop on accident if you aren't sick? Let's not answer that.

So anyhoo, Isaac totally understand the feeling of these bodily functions. He tells me all the time when he goes potty, and if he's really uncomfy, he asks me to change his diaper. He knows how to pull his pants up and down (Note: this is not a new skill). He knows how to wipe and flush a toilet. He knows how to climb up on his step stool and wash his hands. He gets it. And his daycare has the cutest mini toilet I have ever seen. It's like a shrinky dink toilet.

But....

I have no idea how to really, actively start potty training. I think he is almost ready. But I don't want to push him and somehow scar him into using diaper until age 5. We talk about it.

And then, on Saturday I got so help. A clear message was sent.

We were at the park, Isaac running around and playing. All of a sudden he made the poo-poo face. He ran into the corner of a play house. He came out a few minutes later and goes "mama, poo poo." I asked him if he wanted to go to the car and change his diaper. He said no. I asked if he was uncomfy. He said no. I figured it would not hurt to let him play some more. He ran into another play structure shortly after. A few minutes later, I hear "eww....who farted?!" the bigger kids (and by big i mean 3-5 year olds) continued to debated on where the smell was coming from. They figured out it was Isaac. He emerged, clearly embarassed, and came up to me. "Mama, diaper. Go bye bye now. All done poo -poo."

So we left. But with that little extra push, I think we will be seeing some active potty training in our near future.

Faux Fries, Real Time Messes

Like any red-blooded American child, Isaac loves the wonderful greasy goodness of French Fries. He asks for them ALL. THE. TIME. Every meal. Every snack. Random times throughout the day. LOVES THE FRIES.

Anyhoo, we all realize (hopefully) that fries are not the healthiest snack for a budding 2 year old or anyone for that matter. We indulge him every now and then, his father more so than I do. While on a shopping trip to Costco, I found a big bag of Veggie Straws on sale. Isaac has tried these before and liked them so I got him some for snacks and such. And it was Costco, so I got like, a bajillion pounds for $2. Or something.

Upon arrival home, I gave him some with his lunch. He was delighted, and he immediately exclaimed:

"FRIIIIIIIES!!!!!"

My son thinks these veggie straws are fries, and I am going with it. :) However, these is another obsession that must be discussed as well.

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Isaac is too  big for his highchair. I am not really sure what the cutoff age for a high chair is, but I am guessing we are passed it or coming close to it. His feet hang below the foot ledge and I am pretty sure he could tip it over if he tried hard enough. Sigh.

I am reluctant to replace baby things with big boy things, even though I know that it needs to be done. It's because I have a huge pile of baby items: clothes, bottles, furniture, blankies, swings... in my basement. I refuse to get rid of ANY of it. Not only because it would be a HUGE waste of money when we have another child and have to rebuy all of it, but because it means my baby isn't my baby anymore. He's growing up, and thriving, just like he should be. Don't get me wrong, I am so happy and proud of him. And he will always be my baby. But it makes my uterus ache. I don't know when we will be having another baby, so the more stuff I put down there just makes me feel further and further away from a baby.

ANYHOO, his highchair is the next thing that will be making the pile larger. Which forces me to figure out his eating situation. Our table has this wierd border thing along the bottom of the eating surface that prevents the use of any type of booster without cutting off circulation in Isaac's legs. He eats at a small table at daycare so I figured I would just find one for him. This is what we ended up with:

The most important thing to note in this picture is that all of Isaac's food is all over the table. That is how he prefers to eat. I give him bowls, plates, etc. That stuff next to the spoon? OATMEAL. I guess it tastes better that way. What you cannot see is the bowl on the floor and miscellaneous clumps of oatmeal that were deemed unsuitable.

Also to note: I did not give him that much corn chex to start with. I gave him a small handful. HOWEVER, in addition to only wanting to eat things straight off the table, he can only eat select bits of food that he has taken from the entire available amount. Meaning: he needs to have the entire box/bag on the table with him.

I went to the bathroom and came back to the above scenario. Getting him to stay at the table was an issue at first, now, not so much. I pick my battles with my son. And having him throw a full blown screaming fit because he wants to eat directly from the box is one I usually let him win. I mean, it just isn't worth it.

However, this may need to be reconsidered. Especially when a huge bag of "fries" is involved:

Yes, that is the entire Costco size bag all over his table. My husband sent me this photo on Monday (Note his phone takes way better photos than mine does).

Sigh.

This happened the next day:

Those are Teddy Grahams.

The brighter side to this situation is that it provides an excellant platform to teach Isaac how to clean up his messes.

Take away points:
Isaac loves the faux fries, which I in turn love.
Isaac loves to eat at his table, which I in turn love.
Isaac likes to dump out ALL his food, mmmm I am indifferent.
Isaac likes to have possession of the entire receptacle from which his food is taken.....combined with the above....

Mommy needs a drink. :)

We Made A Deal

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I haven't been blogging. I haven't known how to say what I really wanted to say, I guess. I dont' even know what I really want to say half the time. There are many frustrations in my life right now, and I am trying to work through them. I just feel..blah... We are all fine, work is fine, just blah. In that rut, so to speak. Now onto my real post
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When I went back to work and Isaac began daycare, I knew that inevitably I would miss out on the first time he did things. I was fully prepared to go back to work. I had my pumping schedule down, eating schedule, and was mentally prepared as much as I could be. I always knew that I would have to go back to work after a few months. I was always fine with that. Sure, I would miss my baby boy. But I struck a deal with Ben and Miss K.

If Isaac did anything that seemed like it was the first time he had done said action, say sit up, walk, talk, etc, they were strictly forbidden to tell me that he had performed said action. That way, when he did it for me, I would think it was the first time he had done it, and not feel the stab of guilt and longing for missing said first time action. It has worked remarkably well, and no one has ruined it.

Except Isaac.

He is too old for that deal now. He is doing things for me that he has clearly been practicing with his dad and Miss C and Miss S, that I think are incredible and am so proud and excited. And then I realize there is no way he hasn't done this before. I am missing it.

Like, he can identify numbers from 0-9. Ben holds up one of his blocks and asks him what number is written on it and he answers, correctly. I was so excited. But apparently he has been doing this awhile. Same with his letters. He gets A-F. And I am so proud, and then I realize that these are those that have been practiced and worked out. So my pride is still very valid, I am watching my boy learn and grow. That makes me deliriously happy, that he is making progress and becoming such a big boy. But the disappointment is there. The disappointment that I missed some things. That I will miss more things.

Apparently the person I should have made the deal with, was Isaac.

Mish Mash

My delightful co-worker A so delicately pointed out that I haven't blogged in a week. Sorry, over a week. So here, I am stuck with writer's block, big time, throwing together a post of updates, I guess. Let's start with a visual aid. :)

Isaac likes swings again! We discovered a new park, where ducks swim semi-free in an enclosed pond that also contains mutant koi. Whew, the "IHATESWINGSGETMEOUTOFTHISTHINGRIGHTNOWORIWILLSCREAMANDSCREAMANDMAYBEEVENBITEYOU" phase is over, seemingly. And he is so over the little play structures that are age appropriate. He wants to be on the big kid ones. And we, uh...kinda let him. He's an adventurous, fearless little boy. The way this kid climbs, you would like he was part monkey. We follow him and make sure he isn't leaping off things. He pretty much just wants to climb and go down the big slides. He knows to sit down at the top and not lean over the side. He makes it sound as though the climbing is alot of effort because with every single step, we usually get an exertionous grunt (is that a word, hmmmm I hope so). We don't let him go on said structures if there are big kids who actually belong on the big equipment there, and I wouldn't get pissed (assumably) if he injured (knock on wood) himself on them because I let him on there. I TAKE FULL RESPONSIBILITY HERE!

Speaking of the little man (still my baby boy), he has developed an affinity for Lady Gaga and Glee. TRUE STORY. He is partial to "Bad Romance" but he will also sing along to "Telephone." I think it's adorable that he will sing "el-o, el-o bay-be" and I am pretty sure he likes the singing on Glee.

And he counts to 10! He can get to 6 unassisted, and needs a bit of coaxing past 7 and 8, but definately gets the 9, 10. :)

So, the 3 week great stash reduction of 2010...I am happy to say that I have only spent $7.48 of my $10 budget. And to be honest $2.50 was on accident. I am so accustomed to impulse buying, that last weekend at Target, I threw 100-calorie cupcakes into the cart without even thinking about it. I didn't even realize I had bought a grocery until I got home. Anyway, Other than that, I have only bought milk for me and Isaac. I have used several canned goods, two boxes of pasta, and several things from the freezer. We have had fried chicken, spaghetti and meatballs, turkey chili, potato crunch fish, pizza, and mac and cheese. And to be honest, I am not seeing any dent made in the stash. Maybe because it is the first week? Or maybe because I just have THAT MUCH STUFF.

There are several professional opportunities looming on the horizon for me and hubs. Hopefully (fingers crossed, please please PUH-LEASE), something will pan out successfully for one of us, providing us with the opportunity for change. We are feeling a bit stuck right now. Like, that inbetween phase, where you know you have to move forward, but you need that little kick start in that direction.

No more decision has been made on whether or not the IUD is actually coming out in November either. :( Much trepidation though. I think it depends on how the aforementioned pans out.

Tomorrow we are going to the SF Zoo, with a friend and her two kids that I haven't seen in AGES. I haven't seen her son since he was an itty bitty baby, and I have never met her daughter, nor has she met Isaac. I am deliriously excited.

Ok, that is seriously all I have now. I am suffering serious writer's block. Hopefully it will vanish soon. I apologize. :(

Toddler Idol

***First, before I write anything about what I actually want to write about, I need to say that I orginally typed baby instead of toddler in the title of this post. Because to me, no matter how old he gets, that is always what Isaac will be. Even when he is 70 and (hopefully) I am 98. My BABY. But alas, he is definately a full blown TODDLER.***

Occasionally, Isaac sings. He will fill in the EIEIO of me singing "Isaac Lahman Has a Farm" and anythign that has one-word type lines, like "Hey Soul Sister" 's Ay Ay, AY yay ay yay yay, and "Buffalo Solider" 's Oye yoy yoy. However, on the trip to GG Park to see the aunties, he recently busted out "we're rough!" in NKOTB's "Hangin' Tough" (dont' judge. You know that still sing it too) as we were rocking out in the car. It was ADORABLE as it came out "we ruuuuuuuuttttt!" with a huge smile and gigles. We are working on the Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh arm waving.

The other night, Isaac continued to demonstrate his passion for vocals and a career as a mega idol. We were sitting on the couch, enjoying pre-bedtime milk and looking at books. I was finishing up the last 15 minutes of "Glee" which I had ashamedly fallen asleep during. During "Total Eclipse of the Heart," Isaac starts to full on belt out nonsensical words and swaying back and forth on the couch.

He sang for the 3 minute duration of the song. I have no idea what he was singing, but it was hilarious.

My heart swelled as my baby, ok, my TODDLER, broke into a new milestones, demostrating his love of music. Now I try to get him to sing all the time, which of course he bashfully laughs and runs away. I will catch it on video and send it immediately to Sony or at least Ryan Seacrest because this type of talent should not be ignored. :)

The End of the Pup-as as We Know It

Isaac loooooooves dogs. Loooooooooves them. He loves Dozer, my BIL's dog. He loves any dog, anytime, anywhere. And for the longest time, he would call them "Pup-as" because he couldn't really say "puppy." We all knew what he meant. He would scream it in delight whenever a dog was in sight or even when he heard barking. He thought the sea lions at Pier 39 were "pup-as" because they were barking (insert science lesson from Mommy here). He can pick them out on TV and plastic ones in the store, photos in books, drawings. He loves the "pup-as."

Last weekend, I heard something that made me very proud and broke my heart at the same time.

"Pup-pee! pup-pee!"

Somewhere, some time, my son had learned to say "Puppy." Gone are the days of "pup-as." We are strictly a "Pup-pee" family now. Like I said, I am very proud of him, and the progess he is making in his development and learning. But at the same time, I cling to these relics that make him my little baby, and uniquely him.

When he stops calling Mickey Mouse "Ma-Mo" I think I will cry for days. Seriously, he knows how to say "Day-zee," "Goo-fee," "Meeen-eee," "Down-ol," and "Plew-tooo." So I know my days are limited, and I am busting out the video camera every single chance I get to record these precious moments.

Sometimes I think he still says "Ma Mo" because he knows we love it, kinda like kids saying they still believe in Santa Claus to humor their parents (or to mooch extra gifts for a few years). It works, because Isaac is swimming in Mickey paraphenalia and is going to Disneyland for Christmas.

Ah, my sweet baby boy. Can't you stay itty bitty a few days more? Why must you grow up so quickly?

In the Middle of the Night

I am a troubled sleeper. I can NEVER fall asleep on my own. And I never sleep undisturbed, even the slightest noise wakes me up (Note: After about 10 years, my husband's snoring no longer wakes me up even though he sounds like a drunken bear with a chainsaw). I long ago turned off the baby monitor. Seriously, Isaac is in the next room over, and I hear him. I hear EVERYTHING. I hear the cats jump on and off the bed. I hear stuff fall in the kitchen. I hear animals outside. I hear the toilet make funny noises.

Isaac very rarely wakes during the night. I will hear him stir, and sometimes whimper a bit. But he seldom wakes up in the middle of the night unless he is RAVENOUS or has a diaper blowout or one of the @$%hat cats has managed to get into his room and jump in the crib (Another Note: I long since took down the crib tent prevent said @$%hat cats from leaping into the crib. Isaac is big enough now to sense when one of them is in his bed. And half the time he thinks it is hilarious).

Or he has a nightmare. Like last night.

At about 3am, I hear him SCREAMING. No precursor whimpers. No small cries. FULL BLOWN SCREAMS.

Thinking some crazed kidnapper or axe murder has busted through the wonky Dr. Suess windows in his room, I rocketed out of bed so fast, the cat sleeping on my head flew across the room. Flinging open his bedroom door and adjusting the dimmer on the overhead light, I see my baby laying face down, clutching his big blue bunny pillow. SCREAMING.

No axe murders, child molesters, or crazed maniacs were in sight. Nor was the other cat.

He didn't lift his head when I came in. He didn't look up when I spoke to him. He laid there and screamed.

Immediately I am thinking he has watched too much Air Jaws and I have passed onto the MomFail side.

I rubbed his back, and finally he looked up at me, or squinted at me and lifted his arms up. He laid his head on my shoulder and SCREAMED. I sat on the floor with him, only to have him start writhing and screaming louder. We stood up and rocked back and forth. We went to the recliner and rocked, still SCREAMING. My husband woke up and came out to see what was happening. Isaac reached for him and I went to get his milk, thinking it might help. He grabbed the cup and clutched it to his chest, still screaming. My husband took him to our bed and turned the TV on for a little light. SCREAMING. We laid next to him, thrashing and SCREAMING. At about 330, he was calming down, so I put him back in his crib. A few minutes later, he was back to snoring softly, screaming subsided and I was looking down at my peacefully slumbering angel.

When I returned to bed, Ben commented that it didn't seem like Isaac was ever really awake, but stuck in his nightmare or whatever he was screaming about.

I have known parents who have kids that have night terrors.

Is this what is happening to Isaac? This episode was not the first...I would say it happens about once a month, maybe less. And if so, should I just be leaving him in his crib to cry it out? I didn't really try to wake him up. Just to soothe him.

It kills me to hear him scream that way. Especially that I can't get him to stop. What should I be doing?

The A-Ha Moments

Isaac talks ALL. THE. TIME. And you can tell he is really trying HARD to make sense so we can udnerstand him. Like, he isn't just using the baby babbles all the time. Oh, he babbles plenty. It's like he has his own language with Mickey Mouse. True story.

What I am talking about is when he says something and looks at me very expectantly to answer or respond. Most times, I laugh or say "yep!" or "i know!" or "and then what happened?" And I can tell when I give the wrong answer, because he clearly looks frustrated and not sure how to express himself.

Lately, it's been different. I understand him. I know his inflections and how he pronounces things. Like yesterday he said something to me and all of a sudden I understand he was saying "I like it." A-HA! I respond appropriately, and he looks thrilled. :)

From the time he was born, I have understood my son better than anyone. I knew his cries for hungry, tired, fussy, upset tummy, bored. And now I understand his words.

It's like we have our own line of communication, because my husband sure doesn't understand him as well. They both look at me, like "ok. Translate please!"

It won't be this way forever, I know. His speech is getting better every single day.

But for now, I will take it.

Always Be My Baby

Isaac is not my baby boy anymore.


I mean, of course he is still my baby boy, but you know. He's not a baby anymore. Like overnight, he turned into a toddler. Into a little boy.


A couple weeks ago, as we were preparing to leave for daycare, my husband was laying sick on the couch. I was packing up the diaper bag, and I put Isaac down and told him to give Daddy a kiss and say goodbye since we were leaving. He ran over to Ben and gave him a kiss, said "Bye Bye Dad", then ran to the door and looked at me expectantly. "Mama! Go! Mama! GOOOOOO!"

I stopped in my tracks and just stared at him. I took him in, and realized "Oh my god, he's a little boy now." He looked like a little boy, staring impatiently at his mother. It made me so proud, and broke my heart at the same time.

He's gotten so big, so very fast. He's a full blown toddler that has a full, exuberant personality and mind. He voices his opinion, he plans, he executes. He has clear preferences. Every day he busts out new phrases, words, and skills. Things he has learned on his own, without me prompting him. He's like a sponge. He is just soaking everything up. I look at him and I can tell he is working something out in his mind. We can have whole conversations now. And most of the time they make sense. He is putting together phrases with ease, like "I see them!" He tells me decisively if he wants to watch "Ma-nneeeeeee!" (Handy Manny), "Ma-Mo!" (MM Clubhouse), or "o-sho!" (Oso). Sometimes he even tells me what he wants to eat.

His hair is blonder, his eyes still a blue-y gray with golden middles. He has a mouth full of chompers, 16 by my last count. We brush them every night and he LAUGHS. He runs, oh how he RUNS. He jumps. He climbs. He counts to three.

I can't really describe it. He is just changing so darn FAST.

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We figured out the daycare situation. For the next few weeks, he will be going to his alternate daycare lady, Miss C. Then in mid August, he will start at the daycare center down the street one day a week until November, when he will go full time (3 days). It will be better for him. This daycare will soon have a preschool program, so god willing, I won't have to move him for a long while.

We feel like this is better for his learning and social skills. He's such a social little boy. Even I have to admit that I was not thrilled about him being the solo kid at Miss K's for a long time.

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Despite the changes in him, I look at him and remember cradling him in my arms at 3 in the morning, just me and him in the quiet. I remember him wrapping his little hand around one finger, whereas now he holds my hand. As we rapidly approach 18 months, I know for the rest of his life I will look at him and always see my baby boy.

Potty Progress

Isaac has had his potty for about a month and a half now. He does pretty well with it. He sits on it every night before his bath, and uses it about 7 times out of 10. I would say that of the other 3 times, he only pees in the bath 1 time, the other 2 doesn't pee in the potty or the bath at all. I will take it.

I didn't think he understood what the potty was for. During the day when he gets into the bathroom, he dismantles it and plays with the cushion. He throws bath toys into the stand. To get him to associate his potty with the peeing sensation, we do things to make him pee, like putting his hand into warm water and tickling him and startling him (not scary like, peekaboo like). He climbs off the potty by himself alot.

The other night he climbed off the potty and ran towards the tub, naked mind you. I have had issues with running, naked baby, namely because of my husband letting him think it is ok to run around naked before his bath. He pees on things, like my floor, his rug and BOOKS. :( So as the naked baby is running around the bathroom, having not peed in his potty yet, I was preparing for an incident....

HOWEVER!

Isaac stopped in his tracks, turned around and ran back to his potty, climbed on it (which I have never seen him do) and PEED IN HIS POTTY before hopping off again and running back to the tub!

This is a good thing, right?! Like my training is working?! :)

Surreal

My friend H had her beautiful baby boy this weekend. She sent me a photo of him, like every new mother does for her friends and family. Her texts with questions about nursing and such are bringing back floods of memories. Her baby is so teeny tiny, it makes my uterus hurt. I remember when Isaac was that size, so small that he fit on his daddy's legs with room to spare, so small he fit perfectly in the crook of my elbow. I remember, but I don't.

I put together a box of things for Isaac to have when he is older. This box has all the letters I have written him, cards he received before he was born, birthday and holiday cards from his first year, photos....and it has a newborn diaper, the first pair of booties he received as a gift, and his outfit he came home from the hospital in.

It seems surreal to me that my baby ever fit in one of those itsy bitsy diapers, and that it was actually BIG on him.

It seems surreal that the newborn size sleeper and hat I carefull selected for him to come home in was swimming on him at one point.

For that matter, I nursed Isaac for over 10 months. I don't remember that. I mean, I do. But I read about how milk supply and all that fun stuff from other people, and yeah, that seems surreal too.

Last night, I was laying on the couch watching TV (yep, was totally watching "The Bachelorette") and texting back and forth with my newly mom-ed friend. It made me miss the days, this time last year, that Isaac wouldn't sleep unless we rocked him and sang to him. I kept thinking to myself how I had justed told my friend to cherish every precious fleeting moment.

With that very comment in mind, I went to Isaac's room and pulled my 16 month boy into my arms and cuddled him.

And I am not sorry for one moment because I know that this time next year, this exact moment will be just as surreal.

Baba is a Relative Term

So...Isaac had his 15 month checkup last Thursday. I kinda forgot to write about it. :( Ok, well I didn't really "forget" as much as I was being lazy.

Anyway, he weighed it at 22.5 pounds, my little bean. :) He is 31 and 3/4 inches tall. And his head is huge. I believe the crowning moment of the appointment was when Isaac was running around the room in his diaper after weight check and then all of a sudden was running naked because he had torn it off in a Chipendales style. Seriously. I watched him do it. It was like he ripped it at the seams and threw it off. Being that this was a medical facility, I figured that I would try to avoid him showering the room in urine, so I put another diaper on him. Guess what happened to that one? And the next? I was just putting on the fourth diaper when the Dr. walked in. Isaac chose that moment to yell "Mean Mommy!" Oh yes, we have moved into that phrase.

Anyway, during the visit we discovered that Isaac is cutting all his incisors and molars at the same time. WONDERFUL. We talked about his eating habits and potty habits. And then he asked if Isaac was still taking a bottle. Um...yes? He gets milk in bottles and juice in sippy cups. He drinks from the sippies really well. The doctor said that at this point he doesn't really need the bottles anymore and to start weaning him from them.

Sigh. This just seemed like a battle.

Isaac knows when it is time for his night time bottle. After his bath we warm it up and count down the seconds on the time. When it hits 1, we shout "BABA!" Then we cuddle and watch Wheel of Fortune and read books.

It turns out Baba is a relative term. I bought a ton more sippy cups. Isaac chose some with Mickey Mouse for daycare. I chose some longer ones that were shaped more like bottles, no handles. He still screams in excitement for the nighttime BABA! but it isn't so much about the bottle. I think it is the activity of drinking the milk that he is associating. He didn't even put up a fight in the slightest. Sometimes he doesn't drink as much milk before bed as he would have with the bottle. He woke up a few nights, clearly fussing for a bottle. It was hard, but I left him in the crib. He went back to sleep, but was STARVING those mornings. And he started drinking the whole "Baba" at night again.

He doesn't say baba for juice either, that is clearly "juuuuuuu."

So yeah. Dunzo with the bottles. They are all washed, sterilized, and packed up (quiet sob) to go into storage.

Isaac's First Kiss

My son is going to be a heartbreaker. Really. Isaac has a way with the ladies.

Last night after dinner, I took him to the park to run off some energy and get him some fresh air. There is an enclosed toddler area that has age appropriate playground structures, and he loves running around and swinging. On this particular evening there were about 4 toddler age girls there. I put Isaac in the swing and pushed him for a while. While he was laughing and smiling, I noticed he was watching the girls run around. When I got him out, he went down the slide a few times, then he clearly wanted to run around.

I put him down and told him to go. He stood there for a good 2 minutes and was totally scoping out where the girls were. He looked at each and every one of them.

Then he took off toward a little girl with brown curly hair who I would guess was about 2. Once he got up next to her, he "fake fell", like he threw himself down and the "fake cried." The little girl said "awww" and reached her hand out to help him, which Isaac eagerly grabbed. He stood up and I brushed him off. The little girl gave him a hug and then KISSED HIM ON THE MOUTH! Isaac smiled and then ran off.

Seriously. My son is 15 months and already had his first kiss and is macking on the ladies!

When I got over the instant fear of "Oh my god is this child clean do I need to be worried about hepatitis," it was pretty cute and I kinda wished I had taken a video. The parents of the little girl were thrilled because they are expecting a baby boy later this year were anxious to see how their daughter reacted to a boy. Apparently that is not an issue. :) And yeah, it was pretty cute. Isaac totally knew what he was doing.

Sigh. I thought I didn't have to worry about this for at least another, oh....13 years?! ;)

Of course, his father is beaming with pride.

My Favorite Moment

There is one moment during the day that is by far my favorite. It happens when I hear Isaac wake up in the morning or after his nap. Sometimes he is fussy and cranky and doing the "waaahhh, eehhhh" noises. And sometimes he is gabbing to his animals in his crib. Regardless, once I open the door, I hear "hi!" and he stands up and smiles and stretches up his arms for me to grab him up. And then he lays his head on my shoulder and gives me a hug.

It's priceless. If I could freeze time at that moment, I would.

He doesn't let me cuddle him much anymore. He does when he is sick, but seriously, how can I wish illness upon him just so he will cuddle with me? That's why this moment is my favorite. And I get the feeling that I am hugging him too long, because after a minute, he starts to fuss and squirm to be put down.

Sigh.

The other night, he was not going to sleep. He was WAILING and didn't want to be in his bed. Ben was out of town, and I was tired. I tried a few times to ge thim to calm down, gave him bottles. Nada. Finally around 9, I pulled him out and snuggled up in the recliner. He cuddled up and we rocked. In 5 minutes he was out. I took advantage of the situation and just snuggled and rocked and whispered how much I loved him and missed his cuddles.

Then the oven timer went off, signalling dinner was done and I could eat.

I was hungry, but I stole a few more moments. Finally, I stood up and started to carry him back to his arm, cradling him in my arms, head resting in the crook of my elbow. I marveled at how big he has gotten and remembered similar moments when I was holding him and how small he was. I remembered standing in the kitchen, faucet running, bouncing and swaying back and forth to calm him to sleep. It was only a year ago.

The timer went off again, pulling me out of my haze. I teared up a bit, because I just didn't want to put him down. I stood there, leaning against the wall, just holding him.

He started to squirm, because like his mommy and daddy, he moves alot in his sleep. He needs his sleeping space or he is not happy.

I put him in his crib. And ate my dinner.

And began looking forward to the morning when I would get another baby hug. :)

Potty Like A Rockstar

Isaac is a quick learner. He watches us do things and stares very intently. You can tell he is trying to figure things out in his head. Sometimes when he is playing with his blocks or something, he is concentrating so hard and trying to figure out why the smaller ones don't hold up the bigger ones, etc.

He thrives on routine. His schedule is what makes our days work out so well, and he knows what time of day it is by what we are doing. He knows that after Mickey Mouse is over he gets a bottle and then a nap. He knows that after dinner he gets to play, but when the music from Jeopardy starts, it's time for his bath.

Because of these two things, we made a decision this weekend.

We bought Isaac a potty chair.

Every night, every single night, Isaac pees in the bathtub. And what's funny is he will be playing and then he will stand up and pee, then sit back down and resume playing. Or try to resume playing, anyway. I don't really like the idea of my son swimming around in his urine, even though I know it is sterile. I pull him out of the tub, and he usually gets pretty mad at me. Anyway, we thought maybe if we got the potty chair and put him on it every night before putting him in the tub, it would establish a potty routine for him. It would plant the seed.

So last night, my little naked baby got plopped down on his little green and blue potty chair, and stared at us blankly while we waited. We coached him and talked about the potty and going potty. He sat there for about 3 minutes before he got fussy. So we pulled him off and lo and behold....

HE HAD PEED IN HIS POTTY! :)

It was a small victory, but still a victory! And he didn't pee in the bath!

Whether he understands what happened, and what he did, I don't know. I know he likes it when we applaud him and cheer. So we will see what happens as we continuously enforce this part of the routine and add it into other places. He goes potty pretty regularly, so we have a good idea of when to sit him down for a bit.

For now, I am so proud of my little boy for using his potty like a little rockstar! :)

And the No's Have It!

Isaac has learned a new word.

"No!"

And he says it all. the. TIME. I first heard it last night at dinner. He was happily eating his carrots and spaghetti. I was cutting up some pears for him when I heard "Mama! No! No! Noooooooo!" I looked over to see him smiling right at me and tossing the rest of the carrots on the floor.

I asked if he was done.

"No!"

I asked if he wanted pears.

"No!"

I asked if he wanted to get down.

"No!"

This continued for the rest of the night as he toddled through the house saying "no, no, no!"

I know he has a good idea of what it means. He has definately heard us say it enough. :)

And on the other hand, he also learned to nod his head. It's cute. He sticks he neck forward a bit and does it really slow and delibrately. And we have to say "yeeeeees!" After a few times he resorts to shaking his head, which he has known for months means "no."

So in the Lahman house, the No's definately have it right now. :)

He has also started putting words together like "yay! baba!", "mama/dada baba", "baba ni-night", "hi mama/dada/kitty/pupa (puppy)!", and "no" with any of the above words. And then we have the looonnnnng babbling sentences, sometimes ending with inquisitive inflections. He looks at me like I should just know what he is saying to me. And he has been singing alot more in the car.

I love that he communicates and is trying so hard. I have been recording so many videos of his sweet little voice. He is growing up so fast!

Fourteen

I hadn't planned to continue the numbered monthly updates for Isaac. However, on Friday, exactly at his 14 month marker, Isaac hit a major development milestone. After months of crawling, walking around furniture, walking hand in hand with Mommy and Daddy, Isaac took his first un-aided steps!

When I pick him up from daycare, he stands next to me while I collect his diaper bag and lunch bag. This particular time, he wasn't holding on to my pant leg. I looked down to see my son walking toward the door! I was so proud and happy, I almost cried. It was a big celebration, and he repeated it again for all daycare to see and was rewarded with cheers and applause.

And of course that night all I was pushing him to walk some more. :) We took this video to send to Daddy at work.

And then the rest of the weekend he spent trying to run. RUN. This probably means I should take up running, right? :)