Happy birthday, munchkin
Today is Ollie's second birthday. Which is kind of impossible to believe, especially when I look at him and remember the smudgy little baby he was two years ago:
Or even the proto-toddler he was last year:
As of Saturday, we've converted his crib into a real bed (after discovering that the walls of his crib or a pack-n-play pose only a brief impediment) and he's sleeping in that. He seems to be transitioning away from his single nap, although I think that could still go either way. And he's a little person -- easily frustrated, not very patient, but a little person. Case in point:
Yesterday, Ollie and Jenny and I were hanging out in the living room, where we'd set up his brand new train table (temporarily, until we dismantle and paint it). Jenny and I were reading the paper, and had dragged a plastic bin over to the couch as a makeshift coffee table. Ollie got bored with his trains, climbed onto the bin, and discovered that it made a decent trampoline. His balance not being perfect at the best of times, I told him to stop jumping on the bin. After a couple more polite requests, I told him to knock it off or he'd get a timeout. He took that a little more seriously (dancing on the bin instead of jumping) for all of 30 seconds, and then jumped again. Okay, timeout (in the big chair on the other side of the living room). But he wouldn't sit quietly in the chair, so I took him upstairs and put him in his room to have a little quiet time. Long story short, Jenny ended up hanging out with him in his room while I took a breather in the office.
Maybe an hour later, Ollie comes to the door, I walk over to meet him, pick him up, and he looks at me and says "sorry jumping, dada". I looked at Jen -- who told me they hadn't talked about it at all. I was pretty floored.
Of course, it's not all apologies and temper tantrums, fortunately. :) Ollie is a smart, funny, very sweet boy and I feel incredibly lucky to be a part of his life. I love it when he sings "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" (which he can do all the way through now). I love it when he wants to do something he's not allowed to, so he tells me to "Go way, dada!" (subtle, dude ;)) I love putting him to bed at night and cooking with him and the other million things that make up our shared lives together.
Happy birthday, kiddo.
Or even the proto-toddler he was last year:
As of Saturday, we've converted his crib into a real bed (after discovering that the walls of his crib or a pack-n-play pose only a brief impediment) and he's sleeping in that. He seems to be transitioning away from his single nap, although I think that could still go either way. And he's a little person -- easily frustrated, not very patient, but a little person. Case in point:
Yesterday, Ollie and Jenny and I were hanging out in the living room, where we'd set up his brand new train table (temporarily, until we dismantle and paint it). Jenny and I were reading the paper, and had dragged a plastic bin over to the couch as a makeshift coffee table. Ollie got bored with his trains, climbed onto the bin, and discovered that it made a decent trampoline. His balance not being perfect at the best of times, I told him to stop jumping on the bin. After a couple more polite requests, I told him to knock it off or he'd get a timeout. He took that a little more seriously (dancing on the bin instead of jumping) for all of 30 seconds, and then jumped again. Okay, timeout (in the big chair on the other side of the living room). But he wouldn't sit quietly in the chair, so I took him upstairs and put him in his room to have a little quiet time. Long story short, Jenny ended up hanging out with him in his room while I took a breather in the office.
Maybe an hour later, Ollie comes to the door, I walk over to meet him, pick him up, and he looks at me and says "sorry jumping, dada". I looked at Jen -- who told me they hadn't talked about it at all. I was pretty floored.
Of course, it's not all apologies and temper tantrums, fortunately. :) Ollie is a smart, funny, very sweet boy and I feel incredibly lucky to be a part of his life. I love it when he sings "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" (which he can do all the way through now). I love it when he wants to do something he's not allowed to, so he tells me to "Go way, dada!" (subtle, dude ;)) I love putting him to bed at night and cooking with him and the other million things that make up our shared lives together.
Happy birthday, kiddo.
