WARNING: If you haven’t already bought the Letter Factory DVD by Leap Frog for your toddler, then this video will make you head straight to Amazon.com before you can say “Leap and Lily”.
Several years ago, I had bought the whole Leap Frog DVD series to introduce Edie to reading. We have about five of these movies, and I keep them all of them in our van’s DVD changer. As a rule, I don’t let my kids watch movies in the car unless we’re going to be riding for an extended amount of time, and then when I do turn it on, the DVD has to be educational. Oh yea, I’m one of those moms. Not only do I make learning seem like a reward, I make them beg for it. “Can we pleeeeaaassse watch a movie in the car? Pleeeeaaassse?”
By the time Edie was two, she knew her ABCs, and this was before I even knew Leap Frog DVDs existed. She would ask for me to quiz her every night, and not because she’s a genius, but because she has just always been a very motivated child. In stark contrast to his sister, Roark could barely speak a coherent word as his second birthday was approaching. And although I had thought it would be really cool to have two motivated kids, I really wasn’t too worried. I just thought, “It’s a good thing he’s so adorable because he’s not winning any extra points with his smarts.”
Anyway, since Roarkie started riding face-forward in the car, he’s been inundated with Professor Quigley and his shenanigans at the Letter Factory. I didn’t really think much was sinking in until recently, when out of the blue Roark identified all his letters in his little box of cards, and then not only did he know the letters, he knew the sounds too. I couldn’t believe it. It was just like when he decided to start talking. One day he knew a couple of words, and the next day, he was using full sentences. Crazy kid. Now he begs me to quiz him every night as well, and he’s further along than Edie was at this stage in the game.
While Edie was at the beach for Spring Break, we had the rare opportunity to capture some video of Roark. Here’s Roark showing off his stuff from the Letter Factory…along with singing the intro to his favorite show. Enjoy!
You turned a year old at the end of last month, and oh my gosh, I can’t believe it’s already been a year! It’s seems like just yesterday I was lugging around this gigantic belly and knocking into things as I waddled around our house.
Happy Birthday, angel! To celebrate this momentous occasion, we let you stuff your face with birthday cake in front of all your family, and I do mean, STUFF. Well, at first you just poked at the cake with your little sausage-like fingers and tasted them ever so slowly. But you quickly realized that this wasn’t the most efficient way to get the sugar in your mouth. So within a couple of minutes, you just picked up the entire cake and crammed it into the lower half of your face. By the end, you were covered from head to toe in icing, and I was thankful that we decided to have this spectacle at your grandparents’ house as opposed to a restaurant like we did for your sister.
If there is one thing that I have learned this year, the thing most obvious that you insist on pointing out with every new milestone, it’s that you are not your sister. I must admit this has thrown me for a loop once or twice because she has always been my gauge by which I measure other babies. And before you start accusing me of playing favorites and loving her more, it’s not because she was a perfect baby, and therefore, dearest to my heart. But she was what I knew, the only experience I had with infants until you came along. So when you didn’t cut your first tooth until you were eight months old, I thought it was odd. I mean, Edie had four teeth by the time she was four months old and spent most of her infancy looking like a chipmunk. You, on the other hand, had no teeth and spent most of your first year smiling like a toothless old man.
Also Edie never had a definable first word because once she caught on that words had meanings she began imitating lots of sounds, but not you. Your word is “Uh Oh,” and you know exactly when to use it. You drop your paci, “Uh Oh.” You fall down, “Uh Oh.” You hurl your juice cup across the kitchen, “Uh Oh.” But that’s it. No other words. I’ve been trying to get you to say “Mama” for months now, and you couldn’t be any less interested. You have absolutely no need for any other words at the moment, I guess because “Uh Oh” seems to suffice in most of the situations you find yourself in.
Gosh, you are into everything! It wasn’t until you came along that I had to put locks on my kitchen cabinets. You love to open a drawer, any drawer, and pull out all of it’s contents onto the floor. This is really one of the more annoying things that you do, and as payback, someday I plan to tell your highschool buddies about finding all my underwear strewn about the house because of your curiosity as a baby. And don’t get me started on your love for remote controls! Like a moth is drawn to a bug zapper, you, my son, cannot resist a remote control. If I try to hold you in my lap while sitting on the sofa, you begin climbing me like I’m a mountain that’s separating you from your precious. And when we take it out of your hands and tell you “No”, you throw yourself on the floor like we are the meanest parents ever because we are denying you the fun of pushing buttons and hearing the volume change on the TV.
But for the most part, you are a very easy-going baby, and mainly only fuss because you want one thing: yo’ mama. All I have to do is pick you up, and you stop crying instantly (which I think is just proof that you love me the most in the whole wide world, and therefore, I win). But there are times when I won’t pick you up, and you act like a baby, standing at my feet, holding my legs, and pleading for me to hold you. Although it can be irritating in the moment, I want to remember there once was a time that to please you, all I had to do was hold you in my arms.
You are such a joy. Over this past year, I have heard countless times, ”You are going to love having a son,” and I now believe it. That’s what you did. You made me want a little boy. You made me see how special having a son can be. For as long as I can remember, I wanted a house full of girls. I don’t know why, but that’s just what I always envisioned. And even though I understand simple statistics, I was still surprised when I heard the words, “It’s a boy!” I just could not picture myself with a son, and yet, there you were. But over this past year, I have fallen so deeply in love with you that now, I can’t imagine my life without one.
I have been given the most awesome gift a mother can have, a daughter and a son. I now get to experience life through both of your eyes, see the world through different viewpoints that otherwise I would have missed. You did that for me, Roark, and I will forever be grateful for it.
A few days before Christmas, Roark took his first steps, by which I mean, he started walking. When Edie was learning to walk, she took a couple of steps one day, and then didn’t try again for weeks. Roarkie, on the other hand, decided one day that he was ready to walk, stood up, and started walking. He’s a determined little guy and has been practicing every day since. He’s to the point now that he rarely crawls anymore.
He reminds me of Maggie Simpson, and even though he falls about every tenth step or so, he gets right back up and keeps going. He is so proud of himself that as he walks towards me he’ll giggle and clap. It really is one of the most adorable things I’ve ever seen, and I can’t help but kneel down and cheer him on with every clumsy step.
To celebrate Roark’s new skill, Ken made a new video. Enjoy!
It’s almost time for our cross-country adventure to begin, and I know this because the kids’ passports have finally arrived. After all the discussion about the absurdity of a seven-month-old having a passport, it is finally here, and I must say, it looks as silly as expected.
I told Ken that since the kids’ passports were so expensive, we’re going to have to take them out of the country again soon to get our money’s worth. He said that logic was similar to the idea of buying something we didn’t need because it was on sale. I still didn’t understand the problem.
I know the title says this is the six month progress report, but it’s really more like a seventh month update. I took Roark to the doctor two weeks ago when he was closer to six months than seven, but I’m just now getting around to writing about it.
It was a pretty uneventful visit. To no one’s surprise, he has put on even more weight. He weighed in at 21 lbs. 6 oz. and measured 28 in. long. In case you are one of my friends who reads this blog and doesn’t have children or your kids are grown and you’ve forgotten what normal is, that means he’s gigantic (as far as babies go). I have a tendency to lose sight of his enormous size until I take him to the nursery at church. We had a little baby boom there at the end of the year, and Roark is among several babies born weeks apart. Compared to them, it’s undeniable that he is a hoss, but the doctor continues to reassure me that he is healthy.
Over the past two months Roark has had several milestones. One of those being that he is now sitting up with only the occasional fall backwards. This was a hard skill for him to learn seeing as how his head is enormous and the slightest shift off balance meant that he was a goner. He has taken some pretty big spills backwards (mostly with the help of his sister), but nothing some tummy tickles couldn’t cure.
He is so ticklish…feet, neck, belly. I could spend hours on end just tickling him all over and hearing him giggle. That has to be one of the best sounds I will ever hear. It’s like crack to drug addict. I can’t get enough of it. Oh and those cheeks! My lips are just drawn to those two chubs sitting on the side of his face. I just can’t help but kiss them over and over again until I realize that I am being obsessive and should probably stop before I give him a hickey on his face. I’m sure THAT would be great material for his therapist one day.
Roark now spends most of his waking hours seeing what objects he can grab a hold of and bring to his mouth. It’s like a light bulb went off, and he now gets that those wiggling objects at the end of his hands can bring things to his face. This discovery has provided him with hours of entertainment. However, it has resulted in the loss of MANY strands of hair on my part and even some tears from Edie.
About two weeks ago, Roark decided that he was done being rocked to sleep and wants to be placed on his stomach in the crib. I have to admit, this makes me sad. I know, I know…Babywise would pat me on the back for a job well done, but I had forgotten how much I love this stage. The feel of his weight on my chest, motionless and warm, the sound of his rhythmic breathing, the soothing feeling of rocking back and forth– I just wasn’t ready to give that up quite yet.
I guess that’s the problem with parenthood and maybe even part of the beauty of it as well. Every stage is temporary. This is great when you’re talking about sleepless nights and potty training, but heartbreaking when it’s the parts I want to hold onto forever.
Yesterday was Roark’s four month check up, and he passed with flying colors. He is still a chunk and is weighing in at 19.6 lbs. When he’s in my arms, I swear it feels like he’s carrying cement in his britches.
I didn’t record his length, but he’s still holding onto his place in the 95th percentile. This is not a bit surprising to me since he’s outgrows his clothes the instant I put something new on him.
Life for Roark is pretty sweet these days, even though he routinely likes to fuss about it. Someone has told him that you don’t get noticed in our house unless you speak up, and he has grasped this concept completely. I blame it on teeth coming in or just boredom, but I think Ken is convinced it’s just to irritate him. If that’s so, Roark’s plan is working remarkably well.
Besides his love for the changing table, he now loves the bathtub too. He lays on his back and thrashes his arms and legs around, splashing water, and smiling when it hits him in the face. It’s so cute that most times he has an audience of three standing over him, watching him play.
I love that he now responds to my voice. All I have to say is “Hey Roarkus” in a sing song-y voice, and he immediately grins from ear to ear. This makes me smile back at him, and I begin to talk even more like an idiot. Before I know it, half an hour has passed, and I still haven’t finished changing his diaper because I am too busy munching on his belly and listening to him giggle with delight.
Recently he has opened the floodgates and started letting the drool pour out. I blame this partly on the love affair he has with his hands. He is constantly sucking on them…fingers, knuckles, thumbs. He’s not picky. He just wants a hand in his mouth at all times and will shoot a pacifier across the room to get to one.
The drool thing, though, is pretty gross. I have been spoiled in the past because Edie never spit-up or drooled. However, if I hold Roark for a moment, I’ll pull him away only to realize that my shoulder has been slimed. I wish I could remember to grab burp clothes everywhere I go. But that request is on a long list of things I wish I could remember to do and don’t.
We are finally getting some rest in our house, and our nights are pretty quiet. Roark is still waking around 4:00 a.m. to feed, and I’m okay with that. This has become a special time between the two of us. We sit in the quiet, and I enjoy him in a way I can’t during the day. I focus on him and let him wrap his little fingers around mine. I rock him and shush him, while there is no Phineas & Ferb playing in the background or a sister trying to give him kisses with her feet. It’s just the two of us being still and quiet in the night. This is one of the sweetest moments in my day, and it won’t be long before I’ll be talking about how much I miss it.
Thought I would take advantage of the five minutes he actually had his eyes open today. When his sister was born, her eyes were dark brown, if not black. So we were pretty surprised when this blue-eyed baby popped out. Everyone tells me they are going to change color. I’m keeping my fingers crossed for green. I think it is only fair that at least one of my children should resemble me, don’t you think?
We have been home from the hospital a little over a week now and are doing really well. Edie goes back to school in two days, and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t excited about having a couple of hours to myself with my new little one. We have all been suffering from cabin fever, but my case wouldn’t be so strong if I didn’t have a three year old bouncing off the walls and getting into mischief of one type or another.
Roark is doing well. He is still holding onto his title of “Easiest Baby on Earth.” We have had a couple of incidents where he’s hosed down his changing table. Something I have been fully warned about, but yet continues to take me off guard. I think he secretly knows what is going on and is getting a laugh at my expense.
I also wanted to mention a big “Thank you” to all of the friends and family that have spoiled us with food. I can’t tell you how wonderful it has been to have a fridge stocked with goodies, and even better to know there is more in the freezer for the coming weeks ahead! This is especially comforting since these days I am doing good to get a shower and have on clean clothes!
Yesterday you turned one week old, and right now you are sleeping next to me on the couch, snuggled in your little Boppy with your tongue partially sticking out.That is pretty much what you have done since we brought you home—sleep.Even though I have known you only a week now, I think I can officially say that you are the easiest baby on earth.
Even my labor with you was a breeze.I actually slept through most of the contractions.I woke just in time to be told you were about to be born, and I remember feeling relaxed and refreshed.I hadn’t slept that good in months.Within about twenty minutes from waking, I was holding you in my arms.
When the doctor made the announcement that you were a boy, I was shocked, and I realized in that moment that I had actually convinced myself that you were a girl.I spent the next twenty-four hours wondering to myself (and sometimes out loud to your father), “What am I going to do with a boy?”When your sister was born, I felt this instant connection with her, I guess because we shared the same gender.I know girls.I am one, but boys?!I don’t know very much about boys except that they can be rowdy and loud and that now your father and I are going to argue over putting you in sailor suits.
However, it didn’t take me very long to fall in love with you.I have spent many hours nuzzling and snuggling you, and I am totally smitten.I have studied your little features over and over.Your slightly crooked pinkies, and your little ears that don’t match each other.I love the face you make when you stretch after a really good nap, and how you arch your back when I tickle your spine.I love that instead of stressing about whether you are getting too much sleep or too little to eat, I can relax and just enjoy you.
I think that has been the biggest difference between our first week bringing you home versus the first week we brought your sister home—I am much more relaxed.You are definitely benefiting from our experience, and I am benefiting as well.The first time around, I was sleep deprived and pretty much scared out of my wits. I fretted over everything, but with you, I am much more comfortable in my role as a mother.
I know how quickly these days pass and how fast you change from infant to toddler to kid, and I don’t want to spend this precious time worrying over nothing.So I don’t curse the midnight feedings or the inevitable “dookie blasts” that await my future.No, I look at your sweet face and vow to hold you as much as I can, smother you with kisses, and revel in this precious time that I get to be with you as my baby.
