Apr 15
Happy Camper
One of the things I bought for Emrick for his first birthday was a funny little t-shirt that says the word “Happy” on it, with a picture of a camper underneath. Get it? Happy Camper? A ha ha ha.
It was on clearance.
Anyway, shortly after his birthday I washed and dried that shirt, hung it in the nursery closet, and then immediately forgot it existed. But recently I have been rediscovering the contents of Emrick’s closet, and I’ve been favoring shirts over onesies. The onesies are great because they don’t slide up the way shirts do when I have to pick Emrick up or put him in his car seat. But with the warmer weather, and with Emrick becoming more of a boy than a baby, and with my realization that Target has so many super cute t-shirts for toddlers, I have been dressing him in shirts about 90% of the time for maybe a month now.
And so, the Happy Camper t-shirt finally made its debut, about six months after I bought it. And guess what? As it turns out, dressing your child in a shirt that labels him a “happy camper” is a temptation that Fate just cannot resist…
…because for Emrick, it was Opposite Day. Do the opposite of what Mommy is encouraging. DO throw a tantrum next to the pantry. DO pour your milk on the floor. DO be malcontent even when Mommy is trying so hard to comfort and appease you. So that’s pretty much what most of that day was like:
Emrick recently learned that tortured body-flinging should always be done on the carpet, and never on the tile.
WTH? I just spent 2 minutes rolling around on the floor, and I STILL don't have a cookie/cellphone/firearm?
I always look forward to Marcus getting home from work, but on days like this, the last couple of hours before he gets home can really drag. Some days, Emrick and I have such a good, easy time that when Marcus comes home, I think “Already? Cool!” But on Emrick’s moody days I’m clockwatching by 2 PM. Sometimes when Emrick is cranky, it doesn’t necessarily get any better when Marcus gets home, but other times, Pookie’s crankiness seems to vanish at the sound of Marcus walking in through the mudroom door. Fortunately, on Happy Camper Day, Daddy’s arrival home was just what Pookie needed!
Even Daddy's laptop needs to be crawled on and cuddled.
And all was right with the world.
Mar 24
Still Learning
Pookie loves the pantry. Everyday he stands next to it and whimpers loudly and annoyingly, trying to get us to open it for him. He used to do this only when we happened to be in the kitchen, but lately he has developed a new strategy. That strategy is that no matter where I am, or what I am doing, if Pookie wants to go to the pantry, he grabs as many of my fingers as he can fit in his hand, and walks me over to the kitchen, where he stares at the pantry door and howls. If I say, “Not right now, sweetie,” he throws one of his tantrums, which at this point are more comical than irritating. He scrunches his face up and shouts one-syllable sounds angrily.
“Hoh!”
“Dah!”
“Bah!”
And then he seems to twist and throw his body against unseen walls.
Here’s the thing, though. He’s not after a treat. He’s not asking for cookies, or yogurt-covered raisins, or peanuts. He wants to play in the pantry. I have baking supplies stored on the one shelf within his reach, and every time I open the pantry door, Emrick charges for the vanilla and lemon extracts, the bag of slivered almonds, or the box of food coloring vials. Sometimes he pulls these things out and hands them to me. Sometimes he inspects them and then drops them to the floor to reach for something else. Sometimes he bangs two items together and talks to himself. The other day he seized and destroyed a container of cupcake papers. It’s kind of amusing, I guess, but I don’t want to be picking up his “food toys” from the kitchen floor every day, so generally the pantry is off limits as a play space. If I need to get something from inside, I do it quickly before Pookie has time to realize his window of opportunity. My heart rate escalates and it feels like I have five seconds to do what I need to to do, or the bomb will go off.
But the other day, when Pookie was extra insistent (or maybe I was just extra tired), I just let him have at it. I opened the pantry door and let him do what he wanted to do for once. So what if I have to pick up a few bottles of extract from the floor, or put the bag of walnuts back on the shelf? No big deal, as long as I watch him.
Except… I didn’t watch him. I don’t know WHAT I was doing. I just know that at one point he was in the kitchen alone, and when I walked in, I saw this:
White powder. Since I could see that the flour, granulated sugar, and powdered sugar were still safely stowed behind him, it took me about three seconds to realize that this was baking soda. And since my camera was right there on the kitchen table, I decided to take a picture because, you know… funny, right? Isn’t that what parents are supposed to do? Take pictures of their kids’ crazy antics? Plus, a little spilled baking soda just isn’t that big a deal. So I took a picture.
But then I got greedy. I couldn’t leave well enough alone, and I decided to snap a second picture. What I didn’t notice, though, is that little triangle of orange against the right hand side of the door in the above pic. Do you know what that is? It’s the baking soda box, and it’s still full, and still within Pookie’s reach. I did not notice any of this when I decided to get stupid with the picture-taking. And Pookie, who is starting to realize the connection between cameras and the pictures we show him of himself on the computer, decided, I suspect, to perform:
That’s right. While I was standing there with the camera in my hand, Pookie reached for the box of baking soda and continued his little shenanigan. I said that he was performing here, but actually, I think what happened is that when he saw me coming, he stowed the baking soda box. Then when he saw that my reaction was not to scold him and get to cleaning, but instead to stand there like an idiot and snap pictures, he decided to carry on with the fun.
I couldn’t help but laugh. Baking soda is cleaning agent. Did you know that? So tossed the now-empty box and made several wipes over what is now the cleanest spot in the kitchen… or would be, if I’d had some lemon juice to add to the mess.
Anyway, I am still learning.
The End.
P.S. Since posting about my speeding ticket on Monday, I have been scolded TWICE by my parents! In earnest! Can you believe that??? So for the record, I was cited for going just 5 miles over the speed limit, on a road whose speed limit changes in several places, in a spot where no other cars were immediately close. So, you know, let’s not act like I was driving through barricades, or roaring over ramps and sailing airborne across riverbeds, or narrowly missing fuel tankers as I made a tight but thrilling swerve into oncoming traffic. ‘Cause I NEVER do that stuff when Pookie is with me.
P.P.S. The photos from last post have been updated with a little something extra. Revisit that post and see if you can figure out what’s new.
P.P.P.S. Here are some pictures I took of Pookie earlier, before The Baking Soda Incident.
Mar 19
18-Month Check-Up
Today Emrick had his 18-month check-up. There’s no big news really; he’s doing fine. His height percentile ranking has increased, from 1 to 7. I am a little skeptical of the 7 because I think they measured him a little long (they always do), but I’d guess in reality he is still at the 4th or 5th percentile, which is good. And his head circumference percentile is smaller, too. So his proportions are balancing out (somewhat).
The only “issue” that came up was something I asked about. Emrick’s soft spot is still not totally closed. It’s mostly closed, but you can still feel a definite indentation there. The endocrinologist, with whom Emrick had a second visit in January, had noted the open spot at that appointment and said she wouldn’t be concerned about it unless it was still open at 18 months. Well, here we are; Emrick is 18 months old and still has a small soft spot on his head. So I asked the pediatrician about it. He felt the spot and was not concerned in the slightest. He said he was “surprised” that the endo indicated that 18 months is when a still-there soft spot should be investigated. The standard, he said, is two years. Even then, a late-closing soft spot doesn’t necessarily mean there’s a problem. As an example, he told me of a patient he saw once who had an open soft spot at age four . He sent the kid to a neurologist who determined there was nothing wrong with the kid, that was just his head. So I am not worrying about it, not that I was really tempted to, since Emrick obviously seems to be doing just fine in every other respect. Plus, as Marcus pointed out, a big head like Emrick’s is bound to take a little longer to close. Perfection takes time, I guess. 🙂
But the BIG event of the day was what happened on my way to Emrick’s doctor appointment… I got a…
SPEEDING TICKET!!!
Aaaaargh!
This is my fourth traffic violation ever, but only my second speeding ticket, and my first Utah citation.
1998 — cited for speeding on Nohl Ranch Rd.
2001 — cited for turning right on red without stopping first at the corner of Sunflower and Bristol.
2008 — cited for a broken brake light on Bristol.
2012 — cited for speeding on Lone Peak.
As unpleasant as it was to be pulled over, I have to admit that Officer Utah was by the far the nicest police man I have ever encountered… I still cried, though.
Mar 16
The Emrick Braden Sorensen Quarterly Report: Year 2, Quarter 2
Can you believe that Emrick is 18 months old? That’s a year and a half! In six months, he’ll be two! Actually, it isn’t that hard for me to believe. He is so stubborn and spunky sometimes that lately I find myself thinking, This kid is only 18 months old? rather than This kid is 18 months old already? That’s the truth.
Anyway, here is what Pookie has been up to:
1. He talks a lot, though we aren’t sure if he is saying actual words or not. He definitely understands more than he says. He understands the names of most common objects, the names of all the rooms in the house, most foods and drinks. He understands when I say we’re going to do certain activities (“let’s change your diaper”, “let’s get some breakfast,” “let’s get your shoes on”). And of course, he understands Mommy, Daddy, and No. And Mommy, Daddy, and No are the only words he actually speaks clearly and consistently, with No being pretty much his favorite word ever. In fact, the ratio of Mommies to Daddies to Noes in his daily average output is probably something like 2:6:37. No joke.
2. When Emrick used to get a hold of my phone, all he wanted to do was push the buttons. But now he holds it up to his ear and says, “Oh?” … or “Dada?” Soooo cute.
3. Emrick is eating non-pureed vegetables again. Hallelujah! He stopped eating whole veggies after his first birthday for some reason, but now he’s all over the green beans and the baby carrots. His new favorite food, however, seems to be banana. He gets more excited about bananas than he does about the occasional cookie we allow him.
4. While Emrick is learning to like vegetables again, he seems to be getting lukewarm about his old favorites. Goldfish don’t excite him anymore, and this morning when I said, “Do you want a fruit bar?”, his late morning snack of choice for a good month now, he burst into tears. I took that as a “no”.
Emrick weighs just over 23 pounds and measures about 30 inches tall. He’s my most favoritest baby in the whole world.
We love you, Pookie Bear!
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