Caroline has proven to be a very eager eater and a voracious pooper. Way to go, new baby!
She still has to learn that night time is for sleeping four hours at a time, while day time should be when we wake up every hour or two. But, she’s only a week and a half old, so I suppose I should give her a little longer to figure that out. *Yawn*
Decorating for Christmas was not pleasant this year… and I just keep thinking how taking it all down will be even harder because I’ll be that much more pregnant. Nevertheless, Paul loved helping put up the tree. And I do love the lights and the Christmas music. (Guest pass to view this set on Flickr.)
And then we come back to Santa. Do you remember Raisin’s reaction to Santa last year? Well, this season began much the same.
“I don’t like Santa. Santa is grumpy.”
“I don’t want Santa to come.”
“I don’t need any toys.”
So when we headed to the Lake in the Hills tree lighting, I warned him that Santa would be there, but we didn’t have to talk to him. We would leave after we saw the Christmas trees. Surprise! Once he saw Santa, he really wanted to talk to him.
They had this set up for pictures as we waited to talk to Santa. Paul is saying “Merry Christmasssss!” which is why his tongue is sticking out. I only had my phone with me (I wasn’t planning on meeting Santa, remember), so that’s why it’s totally out of focus.
I kept asking Paul what he was going to say to Santa. Would he tell Santa “not to come” like he did last year? He just said, “You’ll have to listen very carefully.”
So what did Paul say?
“What do you want for Christmas?” asked Mrs. Claus.
“Books,” said Paul without hesitation. “Books about books.”
Aw, like mother like child!
He said he
![MG_2150[1]](http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7165/6556742401_5c0cc30449.jpg)
Paul has been singing the primary songs around the house for months, so I was excited to hear him sing in Sacrament Meeting.The primary chorister said at the practice that he was one of the loudest singers!
Alas, apparently he used up all his singing. He sat and squirmed, and he picked his nose, and he danced around on the stand. But he did just turn four, so he was the youngest up there.
Nevertheless, call me biased, but he’s still very cute ! Here he is singing my favorite song from the program. It’s my favorite because he has this adorable trouble pronouncing some letters that I hope I never forget the sound of.
Remember, “At woke or at pway, in daaaakness or yite, be twoo, be twoo and stand fo-ah the wight!”
And then, just to prove that we do know the words of “Scripture Power,” here that is too.
The subject Paul was given for his talk was “Jesus Christ is my Savior and Redeemer.” We got our favorite pictures of Jesus from the gospel art kit, Mommy put it in order, and to help herself, she wrote the words of Paul’s talk on a paper on the back. To her surprise, Paul was reading the words on the back. Here is Paul’s talk for Sunday.
We watched this video together and Paul said, “Mommy, I want to follow Jesus.” Yes, dear. I do too!
Paul loves preschool. Loves it. From the first day, he runs in and says “bye” without hesitation. This is how it’s always been. He has never been sad for me to leave him (except for about a month when I started working at the library one day a week. I think he was sad then, though, not because he was with Daddy and not me but because I wasn’t taking him to the library too.). As for preschool, though, it’s just what he needs. He gets little friends to play with him, teachers who love him and encourage him, new toys to enjoy, craft activities and outside time. He still follows me around the house asking me to play games with him. But it’s okay because he knows he has preschool to look forward to the other days.
He saw me come in and ran over. “Mommy!”
“Hi honey!”
“I played with play dough!” He jumped up and down.
“How fun! What else did you do?”
“uhhhhhhh…..”
He couldn’t answer. Not a single other thing could he explain. I prompted him and asked the teacher and found he also had a snack and went outside and read a story. Now I know what general things they do so I can ask, but that first day was revealing. His two hours at preschool are unknowns to me because he won’t always be able to tell me what he did.
In the car on the way home, I asked him about his new little friends.
“Is Nick your friend?”
“Yes.”
“Is Gracie your friend?”
“Yes.”
“Who else is your friend at preschool?”
“Jesus! He is my friend. He’s in every prayer.”
Awwwww. Paul goes to a Lutheran preschool and I’m glad to know they’ve already gotten the important bits in.
Paul has an overactive imagination. There is nothing wrong with it, that is for sure. He has been enjoying the Richard Scarry books, and I found some “Busytown Mysteries” movies at the library to watch. He loves them and watches them over and over again. So much so that now Goldbug is his special imaginary friend.
“Mommy! Don’t clean that toilet! Goldbug is sitting there. He’s going pee and poop!”
“Mommy, Goldbug is hungry.”
“Goldbug is coming to church today, Mommy.” (“Is he going to sit reverently?” I asked. “Yes.” Later, Paul was squirming. I asked him to show Goldbug how to sit reverently and Paul immediately sat up and sat still.)
“Today is Goldbug’s birthday, Mommy. He’s a big boy! He’s six years old!”
“Goldbug is driving to preschool in his own car, Mommy. It’s right there [pointing out the window].”
“When we get to preschool, Paul and Goldbug need to wash their hands.” [They have to wash hands before they come in the room.]
On Sunday, Mommy and Daddy got tired of the Paul-goes-Poop-in-Pull-Ups game. I told him it was no longer acceptable to go poop in his pullups “because I was playing” or “because I was watching my movie” or “because I was too busy.” From now on we’re wearing underpants.
Monday and Tuesday were completely dry. Wednesday, two accidents. Thursday, one. We’re doing okay. He just needed that ultimatum, I guess. No more Pull-ups. They are too much like diapers, he doesn’t feel like stopping playing. He doesn’t like scrubbing out the underpants, though, so I think that is motivation… Plus the bribery toy when he finishes his potty chart.
In short, Paul is happy. He’s growing up quickly.
Paul is, at this moment, enjoying (I assume) his first day of preschool!
Thank goodness for a phone camera so I could capture it!
![preschool1stday[1]](http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7147/6564728001_6f2bc6bc5b.jpg)
(I could not get him to look at me.)
Wow, the house is quiet. Now I’m off to mop the floor, clean the bathrooms, fold the laundry, iron Ryan’s shirts, and otherwise be productive for the next two hours! (Or maybe I’ll post this first…)
Ryan and I watched a movie one night a few weeks ago called Parenthood in which an eight-year-old boy was singing a song he’d made up about diarrhea. For some reason, Ryan brought it up during dinner, I think to rub in the fact that some day our little boy will be creating his own creative songs about bodily functions and waste.
“Diarrhea!” Paul laughed, since he could see it made us laugh too.
That would have been fine. OK, one day of a new word. Then suddenly, last night at dinner, two weeks later, in the middle of his bite of pizza, Paul called out very loudly, “Diarrhea!” Without any reminder, he suddenly remembered his new word!
Since he kept saying his new word very loudly, in a moment of brilliance insanity, Mommy decided to take the matter in her own hands and explain just why diarrhea isn’t a word we talk about at the dinner table. After all, Paul didn’t even know what it was! Surely he’d be disgusted to realize he’d been talking about poop.
Unfortunately, Mommy’s plan failed miserable, as you can probably figure out. The rest of dinner was filled with Paul’s conversation thus:
“DIARRHEA! Diarrhea is icky poop. Really icky poop. DIARRHEA! DIARRHEA! Icky poop. DIARRHEA!”
And then, of course, after dinner, Paul wanted the diarrhea to come out. He sat on the toilet for 10 minutes saying, “Diarrhea! Come out!” Hey, at least he’s back to sitting on the toilet!
Great. I thought I had a few years before Cub Scouts’ toilet talk. Apparently, it has begun.
It was time. The curls, while adorable, were beginning to look like a mullet. Or a girl’s long curly locks. Since Paul will be two in just two months, it was definitely time for him to get his first haircut.
I’d say Paul doesn’t care how long his hair is, except he does definitely care. It gets so snarly that he cries out when I try to comb it. There is no reason for a little boy to have to yell “Chopsticks!” while getting his hair combed. It was definitely time.
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Paul was very interested in what the guy was doing. In fact, he thought this whole thing was a lot of fun! Paul held one of the very large combs as his hair was cut.
My son’s baby-hood came to an end with all those lovely, whispy baby-locks on the floor!
Now he looks like a little boy.
I’ll post some “After” pictures later, maybe tonight or tomorrow.
There must be something special about being 18 months old now (I mean, other than going to nursery). Paul has reach a few new stages. Thankfully, he’s back to napping; being sick last week helped convince him that naps are still nice. But I think I already mentioned the new stage of frustration. I realized this week that it is not all language related because (drum roll please….) Paul is saying words!
It has been a gradual realization. I started noticing that his babbles sounded remarkably like the words I had just said. And then I started to hear the words out of context: yes, he is definitely saying actual words. He has always said “dada” and “ball” and “Mooooo” (for more and milk both). But now the words are definitely clear.
Words I’ve noticed in the past few days/weeks:
I will listen very careful and report any others I hear! This is fun. I get very excited when the word he says sounds like an actual word. I’m sure he’s excited that I’m understanding too, although he’s more eager to sign the word than to say it.
Paul never gives much attention to his stuffed animals. Cowboy Joe is no exception, although I personally love Cowboy Joe. I tried to get a cute picture of the two “friends,” but Paul would have none of it!
![100_3317[1]](http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7142/6603374183_2296a24913_m.jpg)
![100_3298[1]](http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7169/6603374243_eb310dd719_m.jpg)
![100_3299[1]](http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7148/6603374289_8722d88825_m.jpg)
Paul had a happy birthday, I guess, since he didn’t know what was happening. I share pictures of his “party” here. Here’s his reaction to my singing him “Happy Birthday” first thing in the morning. (Not much reaction, I know.)
Here are some pictures of our happy guy. (He just had a drink of water, which is why his shirt is very wet.)
![100_3311[1]](http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7153/6603374321_61ac81f618_m.jpg)
![100_3313[1]](http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7165/6603374347_31a85b86fd_m.jpg)
![100_3312[1]](http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7013/6603374391_8f591a99b5_m.jpg)
![100_3314[1]](http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7157/6603374421_d67792eb28_m.jpg)
Originally posted November 21, 2008.
