Tuesday, March 31, 2015

George at One Year, Part Ten

Since the weather was weirdly spring-y for a Utah March, and I've finally be feeling better, George got outside a lot this month.  And dude, he's a huge fan.  This kid loves being outside to the point of getting incredibly dramatic when someone goes outside without him.  He loves playing in the dirt, crawling in the grass, he even loves crawling on the concrete (sometimes he prefers it... because he's strange).





Nice weather and loving the outdoors has also meant lots of trips to the park.  George, of course, super digs it.  He'll just play and play on his own in the sand, and then we'll sit together and draw shapes in the sand.  (And now George loves to draw circles with his finger in whatever he can and he'll announce, "It's a circle!")  He also climbs all over the playground equipment and has even braved to venture into the shady tunnels on them--something he's always been wary of for some reason.  Hobos?  Maybe.  At the one park we frequent there's also a rock wall, which Brad will help George climb to the top of the playground, at which point George will then just turn around go down the giant slide by himself on his belly, it's pretty epic.  Otherwise he enjoys you taking him to the top and counting down, "10, 9, 8..." until one with him and then George will say, "Blast off!" and you let him go.  It's pretty darn cute.

When there are other kids at the park George becomes a major stalker.  It's even creepier because he's crawling after them with his dead leg crawl and cackling like a maniac.  Most kids love it, but one poor kid was so not interested because he was playing with his mom, who had just got off work and switched places with the nanny.  To let them have alone time, I had to keep taking George to the clear other side of the park, where he'd then just proceed to crawl right back over to them.  He's a nerd.

George has known how to cruise for a while, but it's picked up ten-fold this month.  He cruises around everything.  He was investigating the hearth room dining table's perimeter for the best position to try and reach a box of crayons; he cruised around that eight-seat giant table so many times it was crazy.  He'll walk around the kitchen island (also incredibly large) and is more and more using cruising rather than crawling.  It's been fun to watch.





Oh, and no matter the repeated attempts to teach George to just color or draw, he still loves eating crayons.  So yeah.  That's why he was working so hard for them--to eat them.  Yum.

This kid is so tall it's ridiculous, the increase in cruising has made that painfully obviously as he can reach and see anything within 6-inches of the counter's edge.  I'm having to be super diligent at pushing everything no-touchy to the center of the counter or tables.  One night Alix and I made cupcakes and they were cooling by the stove and we look over and George had just reached up, grabbed one, and was busy eating in on the floor.  It was hilarious, we couldn't believe it!

COLORS.  Holy crap, this boy loves his colors lately!  If you ask him, "What color is that?" he can name it, and man, he loves that game.  So much, in fact, that he will play it with himself.  He'll ask himself, "What color is that?" and then proceed to name the color.  It's so fun to watch and hear.  He's really legit at all the basic colors, but he doesn't love to say "brown" for some reason sometimes.  However, he sings the entire Rainbow Song of the, "Red and yellow and pink and green..." and even says "rainbow" really well now.  All of this feeds into his love of colors more and more, haha.

George also loves to sing the Hot Dog Song from Mickey Mouse Clubhouse.  He'll look at you and say, "Hot dog, hot dog!" to let you know he wants to sing it, so we'll see the tune and the other words, while he'll sing along with the "hot dog" parts he knows.  I have no idea why kids love that show so much, but man, that Hot Dog Song has legit powers over toddlers.





One of the most fun things that has developed as he's getting older is George's ability to speak in complete sentences.  Not only is it like freaking cute, but it's also always fun to see what he decides to start saying.  He currently says a lot of, "What is that?" and then answers himself with a, "It's a..." and the object or shape that it is.  His favorite things to name when he sees them are shapes.  When we're out in the backyard he'll go to a patio chair and he'll point at the back and say, "It's a circle!" where there's a circle shape.  After eating and being released from his high chair, George will go to the front of it and point at the front of the tray where the brand logo sticker used to be and say, "It's an oval!"  And yeah, it's totally an oval!  I have some leftover shape cutouts that I've been using as tags; I gave him one and he loves to take it around the house and pop up randomly to tell you, "It's a heart!"  That one's sort of our favorite because he seriously comes out of nowhere to tell us and we can't help but to laugh when it happens, he's just so happy to let you know that it's a heart, hahaha.

This month George has seened slightly more pleased at getting everyone's attention, like when we'll all sing with him or count down from ten to "blast off" with him.  However, this is really only with people he really knows, so like grandparents and Alix and Brandon, but he's even really warmed up to Ken and Sarah and is pleased when they're cheering him on, so that's been super cute.  He's still a pretty wary kid (which I totally dig), he's not a show-boater still, but he does find more appreciation in being appreciated, basically!

This kid is still in brutal, mortal terror of loud things.  We were at my sister's house getting ready to go to the park and she went to blow-dry her bangs really fast in the bathroom.  Yeah, George heard the hairdryer and sobbed about it for literally twenty minutes.  My mom was using the mixer--at the lowest setting, mind you, which is SUPER quiet--and he was pretty traumatized about that as well.  He truly believes that it's hurting his ear, he'll rub and grab it all dramatically.  And maybe it is, who knows, haha!  But really, we're interested to see how this settles down as he gets older.

George loves to just count and count and count.  Most of all he loves to count down from ten to "blast off", as previously mentioned, but he also just loves to count as high as he can go.  He usually gets to 45 and then will get bored with the pattern, so he'll start over at one again.  He loves counting fast and then he'll just jump and skip numbers, it's pretty funny, haha.  Lately it's been he loves to skip sixteen and seventeen and go straight to eighteen.  So we'll be counting with him, where he says the number first and we echo it so he can hear the correct pronunciation, and he'll say fifteen, we echo, then he'll go, "Eighteen," and we'll correct him, "Sixteen..." and then he'll continue with, "Eighteen," again, and it's just pretty hilarious, haha.





Another thing George enjoys doing is recognizing and naming single digit numbers as well as letters.  When we're in restaurants waiting for our waiter or food, one of his favorite games is for us to pull out a menu and point to a letter and ask, "What's that letter?" and he'll tell us.  He doesn't quite get lowercase letters yet, but he knows all of his uppercase letters so it's really fun to watch!  When we're loves to be lifted up so he can name the numbers on the microwave.  He also really enjoys this giant calculator my dad got him; he'll bring it to you for you to ask him, "What number is that?" so he can answer.

In the same trend, this kid still loves flash cards.  Total brute with them, however.  Seriously, with his incessant need to bend the crap out of them those poor things probably wish they had the legs to run from him.  I found these mini photo albums at the Dollar Store and slid the flashcards into the sleeves and that's helped them to live their lives out in peace, haha.

If you ask him his name he'll say, "George!" AND WE DIE EVERY TIME.  Seriously.  Him saying, "George" is basically the cutest thing ever.  It's more like "Dorge" and it just melts us.  My best friends were the first to teach him this and I'm forever grateful of that because, MAN, IT'S CUTE!

I'm still trying to actively teach George about the twin girls that I'm carrying.  He'll say, "Hi girls," to my belly but pretty sure he still doesn't fully grasp that he has two little sisters on the way, poor kid, haha!  Brad will come up and kiss my belly to show George and he'll pick George up and help him to do it as well, but again I seriously don't think George has any clue what's up with his mom getting large!





He's become waaay more interested in his cousin, Wyatt, recently.  He'll come up and say, "That's a baby!" or "Wyatt!", so it's been pretty darn cute.  He doesn't really touch him or anything, but if we're holding Wyatt, George will come up to inspect and explain to us that Wyatt's a baby.

George loves more and more people now.  My best friend, Laura, moved back from California and so her, myself, and our best friend, Rachel, hang out each Monday and George loves them.  This is a big switch from when he was just past a year old and would have to spend the first twenty minutes when Rachel would come over warming up to her.  It's been so fun to have him get excited when they come over; I love it.

He's a hugger!  Especially when it comes to Grandma Christy.  If he sees my mom, he insists that she drops everything to hug him.  It's pretty darn cute.  Otherwise he switches around with who he thinks needs to hug him and he'll seriously insist on it, standing up at your feet until you pick him up so he can give you a hug.  It's a fun switch considering this kid has never been a hugger!

George and Brad have been playing with Brad's old action figures more this month.  Brad will often explain to George their names as they play, and the first one George grew attached to was the Marvel superhero, Moon Knight, he even began to play with him and say his name as, "Na-Nee".  Although really quickly George has refined it and by the end of the month he was, "Moo Nigh".  In the last few days George also became attached to a particular Spider-Man action figure that Brad picked up off the ground in the Dominican Republic and gave a home.  This particular Spider-Man's joints are SUPER loosey-goosey, and is also missing a hand, haha.  But man, George loves him!  George will pick him up and bring him over to me to straighten out his limbs and then will ask you to sing the Spider-Man theme song.  Brad's pretty dang proud, to say the least.

Friday, March 27, 2015

Twin Shock #2 -- From Conception to the Initial Twin Shock

Okay, so this isn't our "bed stories", but it's slightly (or totally?) TMI in some details.  But it's important, people.  Trust me.

Let me begin with our decision to go for the one other kid (you have permission to laugh right now).  Basically, you have your first kid--who's wonderful--and you kind of immediately start wondering when the right time would be for #2.  You ponder age gaps and all that, and Brad and I were thinking that we wanted to start off with a two-year age gap between our first and second.  So the plan had really always been, literally since before George was even born, to go for numero dos between September and December of 2015.  Okay, cool.  That was the plan.

Fast forward to April of 2015, when I was realizing how close those months were and I had yet to lose any baby weight.  In fact, I had gained weight.  So yeah, I knew I had to get on that.  Less than four months later, I was down the 40-pounds I needed to be healthy again.  I was ready.  Sort of.  Actually, I kind of began thinking maybe it wouldn't be a super big deal if we pushed trying for our next kid out a year to 2016.  I was healthy again, I still had a last chunk of weight I wanted to lose to feel great, and overall I wanted to live in my not-fat jeans for just a while longer before becoming pregnant again.  My sister was pregnant with her first child and I was preparing to be a sitter for her.  I liked the idea of just hanging out with my son and new nephew and use those experiences to feel a little more prepared for when my #2 made their debut.  And yeah, I liked the idea of staying skinny for a while.  Just for a while.

September came (or really, end of August came).  I'm still thinking that next year sounds nice, but I'm open to starting to try in November-ish just for a one shot to see what would happen.  But as summer drew to a close, Brad and I both get the, "Yeah, it's time," prompting for baby #2.  It was time.  I knew it was.  I had always sort of known that this was going to be the right time.  I also knew that it was my own fault that I wasn't able to live in my not-fat pants for longer.

Still, it was a hard fact to face.  I wanted another kid, I really did.  I wanted one sooner rather than later, this was true, but I didn't know if I was ready to give my body another ride on the preggo train.  As we started our first try for Baby Two, I was a total butt about it.  I didn't want to lose my body again.  I didn't want to gain weight again.  I didn't want to get sick again.  I just wanted to love my body for a while.  But again, I was mostly upset that I hadn't started the weight loss sooner.  I knew it was my fault.  I had always known that this was going to happen.

But still, I was a butthead.  I'll totally admit it.  I was eye-rolling, "UGH", teenage girl about trying.  I knew it was the right thing to do and so I was doing it, but I was a wiener about it.  I even tracked my cervical mucus, my ovulation, everything.  And you know what?  I totally got what I wanted.  I literally had no cervical mucus throughout ovulation that first month we tried, and when I took a pregnancy test mid-month it was a total negative.  And then Mother Nature called.  I was not pregnant.

That negative result sucked.  It was at this point I knew that I was wrong to be such a turd.  I was ready for this, our family was ready for this, and it was time.  I wanted it.  George really helped me to stop dragging my feet because, dude, I love that kid.  More than I ever thought possible.  Multiple throughout the day I find myself glowing all mommy-like and telling him, "George, I just love you."  I couldn't help thinking, "Yeah, I'd like more of this."  It was at that point that I made a deal with myself:  I was ready for this.  I didn't need to get gain a bunch of weight.  I could be healthy and happy throughout my pregnancy, even if I was sick for a few weeks and needed to eat whatever to survive the sickness, it would only be a month or two and then I'd feel better again.  I developed a workout plan.  I knew how to eat well.  I was prepared.  I could do this.  I could do the right thing and still not lose my skinny.  It was going to perfect.  (HA, or so I thought.)

So the next month I was a total boss.  I tracked everything.  Awkwardly enough, my cervical mucus was out of control.  While the month before there was nothing, October was apparently trying to make up for it.  (Yuck.)  But hey, it made figuring out those fertile days pretty dang easy.

The very first night we were going to start trying for the second attempt at #2, I was coming back down the hallway to our bedroom when Brad said, "Okay, don't be mad at me," to which I was like, "Whoa, wait, what?  What am I going to be mad about?"

Brad was sort of teary-eyed, and I was semi-panicking.  I didn't even know what to conclude at this point.  "Don't be mad," he repeated, "but I just got a really strong feeling that it's going to be twins this time."

I just got this huge, skeptical smile at first.  Even though Brad looked pretty serious, in my mind the whole, "I hope it's twins!" thing is just something like a lot of people say.  This was an insane wish to me.  Being pregnant with one baby is a tight fit.  Two babies?  Who thinks that sounds enjoyable?  There are lots of people who are fascinated by twins.  Growing up you think, "Oh my gosh, it would be so cool to have twins."  (For me, having one baby got rid of that urge pretty quickly.)

So, to me, this revelation by Bradley was just wishful wanting from someone who's a twin themselves--of course he thought twins sounded cool, he hadn't been pregnant before and he was a twin.  In that moment I bet Brad fifty bucks that it wasn't twins.  If he was right, he'd get the fifty bucks.  If it wasn't twins, the cash was mine.  "Deal."

I over-tested those coming weeks, starting way earlier that I should have, haha.  I wasted so many tests!  I was lucky my sister gave me a bunch of her leftovers.  But man, I was so anxious.  I knew I was pregnant.  And, lo and behold, on a Sunday--two days before my missed period--we got the positive.  I was pregnant with #2.  BOOYAH.  I continued to eat healthy and even implemented a prenatal workout program.  I was going to do this.

Things went downhill quickly from there.  Two days after the positive test--the date of my now missed period--I felt the first wave of sickness.  I was four weeks along at this point.  The next weekend, my sickness was too pregnant-with-Jorge sickness levels.  I was back to being so ill I couldn't move.

Though my morning sickness was at first the same level as the first time, it felt even worse because I did not have a job that I could take off for weeks to recover--I still had to do my job.  I had a 19-month old son who still needed his mom to function.  This was difficult.  As Sunday drew to a close each weekend and I knew Brad would be going back to work and I'd be alone again, an onset of panic and fear would seep in.  I couldn't take care of my son, not like I was used to.  As I got more and more sick--and the barfing started--we had to set-up a feeding station for George downstairs because most mornings I didn't have the energy to get up the stairs to feed him.  Not to mention that I had food aversions to everything.  For two weeks straight I could literally only eat an Arby's chicken cordon bleu sandwich and turnover.  That was it, for three meals a day (if I could eat three meals a day).

How was I going to do this?  How long was I supposed to do this for?  The only thing that kept me moving forward was knowing that, with George, the sickness was totally gone by 13-weeks, and that was feeling better just after ten weeks.  I was going to be ten weeks along just before Christmas.  I could do this.  Just get to Christmas.

My first appointment was originally scheduled for the 23rd of December, but I screwed up the time and so I had to wait to have it until the following day, Christmas Eve.  The only open time was right during a work meeting for Brad, but it wasn't a huge deal so we just opted to do it anyhow.  My sister, Alix--herself 8-months pregnant at the time--was kind enough to be my buddy.  That morning, before Brad went to work he laughed and said, "Call me when I'm right!"

Alix and I got to Alta View and met with my doctor in his office where we discussed the general knowledge about how the next 30-weeks would go.  In that discussion is family history, including that my husband is a twin.  Dr. Later made a joke about seeing two babies today.  This made me laugh because for my pregnancy with George he made a comment about how the likelihood of twins doesn't really jump up if the father is a twin.  I immediately thought of the bet Brad and I had made back in October.  Oh dear.

Dr. Later lead us into an exam room, where I stripped into a hospital gown of sorts.  When he returned, he had me lay down for a general first appointment ultrasound.  Dr. Later slathered some warm jelly across my stomach and made his first pass across my abdomen with the doppler.  Immediately I thought, 'Was that what I thought it was?'  Half of my thought came out loud as I said, "Was that--?"  It was quiet in the room for a second before Dr. Later announced that, indeed, it was twins.  I didn't cry.  I just laughed and said, "I owe Brad fifty bucks!"

As I was checking out and setting up my next appointments, the word of twins had already spread around to the nurses and they were excitedly chatting me up.  Since it was Christmas Eve, everyone wanted to know how I'd tell family, whether it'd be on Christmas or not, things like that.

Thinking of those sort of small details to this very, very large event I think kept me level for a little bit there.  Walking out of the hospital, I immediately called Bradley and the first thing I said was, "Dude, you were right," to which he was just like, "What?"

"You were right, we're having twins," I repeated.

"No way, are you lying?"

"Nope, we're having twins!"  Immediately Brad hooted and cheered, yelling out to his co-workers the big news; he was ecstatic!

That man makes me so happy because he was just SO excited.  So happy, so in love, and I felt that cool euphoria that was coming and going with this news.  We're having twins.  This is crazy cool.  As I got back into the car with Alix to head home, however, it all felt very real all of a sudden and I was in shock.  Even with the semi-preparation Brad had given me with his incredible feeling about this time around, it was still just so, so shocking.  We were having twins.  Two babies.  At once.  That was just plain crazy.  What were we going to do?  I couldn't wait to something special or Pinterest-worthy--I had to call my mom.  So I did.  "Mom, guess what."

"What?"

"It's twins."

"You're kidding."

I loved how Brad responded, happy, cheerful, hollering to his coworkers--so proud.  However, I also really needed my mom's response.  Because, this is crazy, right?  It's okay that I'm not shouting from the rooftops but more-so cowering in fear at how-in-the-crap-are-we-going-to-do-this, yeah?  I was scared out of my mind.  Twins--this was insane.

Thursday, March 26, 2015

Twin Shock #1 -- Um, Say What?

After 23-weeks, I'm finally ready to sit down and write about this.  Hi, my name is Heather.  I am 24 years-old and I'm pregnant with twins.  Yep.  There it is.





This post has been a long time coming.  First off, I've been knowingly pregnant since early November.  Second off, I've been knowingly pregnant-with-two-babies since Christmas Eve.  So what kept me from writing?  Oh, you'll see.  Or read?  Yeah, you'll read... it.  This is getting weird.

Basically, finding out you're having twins is a huge, big ol' shock.  It doesn't matter if you're married to a twin (cough, cough), because, really, it means nothing to be married to a twin--especially if he's the dude in the relationship.  Here you were thinking, "Oh hey, we could add one more," and BOOM--there's two on their way.  The big ol' shock comes full-front when the stats are presented that there's only a 1.7% chance of conceiving twins naturally.  That's tiny.  So, um, what's happening again?  We're having two children at once?  Right.  Right, okay.

Basically, I'm writing this down to not only to remember myself or to quench the curiosity of friends and family who have asked that I write this down, but to hopefully one day help out another shocked pregnant woman, who may stumble upon this post (and I'm sure many future posts) as she Googles the crap out of twin pregnancies (because that's totally the first thing any 21st century human being does).  There's just not a ton of first-hand experiences written out there about finding out you're having twins, so hopefully I can contribute in what will be undoubtedly a very large series of posts that chronicle the surprise, panic, and shock of tripling the amount of children you have in one pregnancy.

In short, this is the introductory post to future posts about my personal experiences, thoughts, and feelings regarding being pregnant with fraternal twins.  So if you're reading this and you're in the same boat (ahem, pregnant with twins), and you're feeling a little scared (or a lot scared), trust me--you're not alone!

George at One Year, Part Nine

NOTE:  This should be the last catch-up George update post and then hopefully I can keep up from now on.  (Carrying two babies in my gut may or may not be killing me.  Drama over here.)  These George updates are from February of this year.  I was finally feeling quite a bit better--though still much like a pile of poo--so pictures aren't as shoddy, huzzah!


George's love for fuzzy blankets continues strong, but he now has a narrower criteria for what blankets qualify.  If he sees a blanket that seems like it'd be a good candidate, he'll go over and test it out by rubbing it between his fingers.  If a blanket isn't fuzzy enough, he'll move on.  Otherwise, he'll work to find the corner of the blanket so he can touch that.

The love of the corner of the blanket is a totally new thing that developed this month.  Randomly one night we were putting him to bed and he was drinking his bottle with one hand and searching his blanket with the other.  When he found the corner of the blanket, he sighed happily and curled up in his blanket, the corner in hand.  He's weird.





This month marked the worst five days of sleep ever for George.  While he spent the entirety of January sleeping like a freaking boss, this month was begun with an ear infection--caused by his cold from last month that didn't bother at all--which left him with 103+ degree fevers for those five days.  It was horrible.  George, no matter how sick, has never been unable to sleep in his crib.  Usually we can cocoon him or otherwise manipulate his bedding for him to feel comfortable enough to sleep in his room.  Nope, not this time.  At 20-months old, for the first time in his life, George could only sleep if it was on someone.  There was no transferring him once he fell asleep, nada.  He had to be sleeping on one of us.  This was super inconvenient because, well, even this early in my pregnancy I'm already a big girl (cough, twins, cough, cough).  My belly is big, my boobs are even bigger--there's not really a comfortable place for George to sleep on me!

Luckily we learned very quickly that Brad's sort of a boss at getting babies to sleep on him, even while he's sleeping at the same time.  Brad spent nights up late with a baby on his belly, playing video games so I could go to bed.  And often he spent early mornings in George's room, asleep on the couch in there with his son, again, sleeping on him.  Brad was amazing.  We were only able to get him to sleep on our bed between us for about 3-hours one night.  Which I suppose is a good thing in the end!  This went on for what felt like forever, but it was really less than a week and George got back into his normal sleep routine.  But, you know, when you're only 16-weeks pregnant but your body feels like it's 80-weeks pregnant, the exhaustion builds up a lot faster than when you're in, you know, functioning health.

The ABCs became a favorite again this month.  George knows his crap, people.  I don't know how he picks it up so fast.  One day he just decides, "Yeah, I'm going to learn that," and he does it.  (Cue side comment about how we wish he'd decide that about implementing walking, haha!)  He loves the last part of the alphabet the most, starting at the letter "Q".  He even does the last, "Next won't you..." part.  He's cute.  SO CUTE.





George just loves learning stuff.  He still digs his numbers and now counts to eleven on his own--we're currently working on getting to fifteen.  He can count down from ten as well, which I don't really know where he picked that up, I never taught it to him.  Mickey Mouse is probably the one to give credit for that!  He's learning the words to more songs and sings in his Chinese to the tunes of lots of songs (even the Chucky Cheese commercial dance, 'The Chucky', awkward).  George has learned almost all of the 'Rainbow Song', and loves to shout the "bow" part when we sing "rainbow".  He's gotten even better and pronouncing his colors and my favorites are how he says, "pink" and "purple".  Shapes he's getting better and better at; "oval" is still his favorite.

We've tried everything this past month convince George that walking is, like, super legit and cool but he knows better.  We'll ask him, "Do you want to walk?" and he'll chant back, "Walk, walk, walk!" (which is what we say when we're making him walk with our help) as he crawls away at full speed.  We tried some exercises to at least get him into squatting hands-free and he was ticked.  So mad at us.  He cruises around everything, he is constantly standing and walking around stuff.  He'll often stand or walk a few steps without any aid and he doesn't realize it.  He knows how, that's the hardest part for us to get our heads around.  It doesn't hurt him, it's not like he's hand some traumatic experience.  He'll often allow me to hold his hand and he'll walk beside me, but he has to be cool with it or he'll get pretty upset that I'm asking him to do that, haha.  It's been a weird road.  Did I ever think my son wouldn't be walking at 21-months?  Um, definitely not.  I didn't even know that happened!  But the doctor said it's totally normal and that we shouldn't be concerned, so I'm trying really hard not to Mother Bear it.  BUT IT'S SO HARD.  Why you no walk, Georgie?!





He's started this interesting thing that when new people come in (like, not Brad, me, or my parents) he'll squeeze his eyes shut and smile while waving his arms.  My grandparents joke that he's trying to pretend that they're not there because he used to be so afraid of my grandma, haha.  Not sure why he does it.  Again, he's strange.

Baths have become a bit of an obsession.  If he ever sees Brad getting undressed, even if he's not actually going to get in the shower, George demands to go with him and that bath or shower be had.  If you leave the bathroom door open, he'll go in and start throwing his toys in the tub to let you know it's bath time again.  He loves it so much, seriously.  He'll play in there for such a long time.  When he's done, he stands himself up and tells you, "All done!"  It's pretty cute.

Speaking of "all done", he's gotten 400% better at saying, "All done!" rather than emptying his food tray.  It's been so nice.  Persistence and patience really are key.  You swear they're not listening and you want to freak out (even though it's stupid to freak out over), but you keep your cool and--magically--one day they pick up the skill you've been working so hard to teach them.  And seriously, SO AWESOME.





George eats really well, especially considering how horrible I am at making anything creative right now.  I'm just too sick and have SO many food aversions--STILL, at 18-weeks--that I really can only feed him a limited amount of foods.  Chicken, yogurt, cereal, fruit, vegetables.  He's worked with me really well, though.

George really is sort of the greatest kid ever.  Even on his off days, he's just SO much easier than any other kid I've met.  He loves playing on his own, which has been such a blessing because I seriously just can't play like we used to.  I have horrible guilt-complexes about it, but man, I'm so lucky to have this little boy who's just taken it so well.  When he needs a buddy, he's so easy to entertain.  We just pull out books and talk about them or we'll sing the alphabet (or any song, really), count together.  He's back to loving when we kiss him on the forehead, so we can play that game for a while if he's ever feeling restless but it's not quite nap time.  And when he's ready for his nap he's really great about signaling me.  He'll start getting a little booby and he'll say, "Na-night, na-night!"  Otherwise, I'll just ask him, "Are you ready for 'na-night'?" and he'll charge into his bedroom.  If he's playing in his room when he decides it's time for his nap he'll grab his bottle and bring it to me.  It's SO awesome.

George at One Year, Part Eight

NOTE:  Just to remind you, these George updates are coming SUPER late because I've been so tired and sick from pregnancy.  I've only just started feeling well enough to skip an afternoon nap with George, sit down, and flesh 'em out.  So yeah.  They're like, super behind.  This George update contains all his developments and quirks from January of this year.  As a side-note, my picture-taking was pretty lax in this month as well because I was basically a low-functioning blob.  So, you know, they're not the best pictures ever.  Just as another warning.  Okay, now that these things have been noted, here we go!


So, uh, yeah.  Still no walking!  He can.  George can do it.  We watch him do it and he has no idea he's doing it, but as soon as he realizes, "Oh crud, I'm walking, aren't I?" he stops those shenanigans immediately.  George's refusal to walk is both hilarious and unbelievable at the same time.  The best is still when others get confident and say, "Oh, I'll get him to walk," and then they realize that uhh, yeah, he's not letting that happen!  George has sass, I'll give him that.

In his continued attempts at avoiding developing his walking skills (at all costs), George has instead opted to invent new ways of crawling.  This includes backwards crawling, charging rhino crawling (fast speed with his head down--it's totally safe... not, haha). and--the best--sideways crawling.  His sideways crawl is just about the funniest thing ever because it's completely weird and totally unnatural, and yet he does it incredibly fast and efficiently.  It always produces a laugh in whoever sees it.  The best is my family has a cat named Blanco who totally walks sideways as well (and is cross-eyed and drools and has fangs; however, George does not do nor have those things.  Okay, maybe drooling a bit).

Lots of squealing.  George hits pitches I think dogs can only hear and, man, it's hilarious.  We'll call him Little Piggy because he'll do these stints of, "Wee-wee-wee!"  He's a geek.  He just loves that squealing.





When George is done eating, he'll immediately--and super aggressively--begin dumping his tray of any leftover food.  He does it as fast as he can, seriously.  So we're hurriedly jumping over to stop him and saying, "We say 'all done', your food stays on your tray!" in varying panicked sentences as we quickly pull his tray out from in front of him.  And then he'll super sweetly say, "All doooone."  He's lucky he's cute.

Bath time is still his favorite time.  If he could get in the bath three times a day, he totally would do it.  If we just let him play in the tub and let him decide when he's ready to get out, he'll usually be in there for at least 35-minutes, if not more.  When George is ready to get out, he'll stand up at the side of the tub and say, "All done!"  It's cute.  SO CUTE.  And way better than the "all done" fiasco at meal time.  George has also started to legitimately squat and stand back up in the tub.  I don't know why, but George is FAR more adventurous in the tub when it comes to doing things that have to do with standing and walking on his own.  Because, you know, the tub is like 100-times more dangerous when it comes to doing that junk.  But, oh well, we totally encourage it.

Can walk--still won't!  We actually made a joke that George would still be refusing to walk when my sister had her baby.  Uh, yeah, guess what?  My sister totally had her baby.  And George is totally still convinced walking is for losers.  Yep.  That happened.  However, George actually started using his walker to walk.  That was legit.  It was progression, so it was awesome and we cheered it!  He semi-walked like he had a wedgie, but it was awesome nonetheless.  It's allowed us to encourage him to use it more and he's walked big distances with it, so it's a step in the right direction!  (HA, totally a pun there.)





This kid counts all day long.  His entire toddler-Chinese-dialogue involves numbers and the single words and phrases he knows.  He'll randomly start with, "apple" and then goes on to say, "one, two, three" and goes from there.  George is constantly chatting.  To himself or to you.  It's the best.  He's fairly easy to find in this large house as you'll hear the echo of him talking himself up about who-knows-what.  He'll talk while he's playing with his cars, while he's reading his books, while he's eating, while he's in the bath... everywhere.  George is a chit-chatter.

As the resistance to walking continues, George has opted for what he sees as a far better way of travel--crawling on all fours.  Like, feet and hands on the floor, butt up in the air.  We call it the Spider Crawl because it reminds us of Spider-Man.  It's also super hilarious to watch.

George has started to request certain foods, but only the ones he knows how to say like "apples" and "bananas".  He'll see them in the banana tree or in the fridge and holler their name, like, "APPLE!"  So I'll cut him up an apple and he'll be pretty pleased with himself as he eats.





Obsessed with his ABCs, loves the song and seeing the letters.  We sing the song at least ten times a day, if not more.  Our favorite part of him singing is when he says, "Now I know..." in the final part of the song.  It's pretty freaking darling!  Kids learning to talk is seriously the best.  George makes it so fun, he just loves to learn it all.  He's so into his ABCs and numbers that he LOVES reading the back of the cereal box at breakfast (or lunch, or whenever he's decided cereal sounds good).  George will call out the letters and numbers he sees and it's just pretty dang exciting stuff for him.

This month George suddenly became super in love with Grandpa Ken.  He just fell in love with my dad.  It definitely makes my dad happy, that's for sure!  My dad will come in from the shop to cut applique in the office and George will charge right after him.  Grandpa Ken will be sitting in his desk chair and he'll scoop George up onto his lap so that they can call Grandma Christy together on the intercom.  George loves it.  He mostly just hangs up on Grandma by accident because he loves pushing the buttons on the phone so much.  But man, he loves that Grandpa!

One thing we were wondering is how George would react with his utter love for Brandon when Alix and Brandon had their little boy, Wyatt.  Wyatt ended up coming nearly three weeks early, so Brandon's been a dad basically the whole month of January, and it hasn't bothered George one bit.  He's still Brandon obsessed.  He has yet to get angry that Brandon has a new beau.  We'll see how that progresses, but so far, so good!