Guess who signed hurt, shoe, sock, and fish today? She signed hurt when she tripped and fell. We’re not sure how she figured that sign out, since “hurt” is more of a concept than an object, and the sign didn’t seem to register with her until today. She knows that when she puts shoes and socks on she gets to go somewhere exciting . . . like the grocery store (what did you think I was going to say?). Then she runs to the baby gate by the front door and bounces up and down, ready for me to swoop her up and take her to the car.
Whole Foods has a glorious fishtank near the exit. C&D tried to sign fish at the tank last week, but Carmen finally made herself quite clear today when she pointed at a fish on the wall and carefully waved her hand like a swimming fish.
Guess who drank carrot juice today without spilling nary a drop? Well, no, that’s not true. He used his little juice glass and drank his fill of juice (several refills), then used his last refill to experiment with gravity and fluid dynamics. I was impressed at the effort, anyway. He usually tips his glass (flow) or dunks his food in his drink (displacement) much sooner. Carmen also enjoyed the juice, but in her impatience to gulp it down spilled much more.
The carrot juice came from a trip to Central Market today. If Whole Foods is the babes’ favorite grocery, Central Market is a close second. We shopped (70% dark chocolate chips, Fuji apples, guacamole, orange and carrot juice), socialized with mothers (shoes, consignment stores), grandparents (yes, they are a handful, good thing they’re cute), and employees (yes, Carmen is more bossy than David). C&D pointed at other children, but only if the other children did not point first.
In the bulk section in the center of the store I found slices of pressed and dehydrated mango for C&D to busy themselves with, and presented them each with one large slice. In the bakery section of the store, they received another. By the time we arrived at the checkout line, my little babes wore orange, sticky smiles. Mango goop dripped from their fingers and coated the fronts of their shirts. I hoped no one would notice.
As I paid for our groceries, C&D sat quietly, the mango all eaten, until David started chewing on Carmen’s shoulder. I’m sure they could hear her protest from the seafood department. Everyone around us laughed. What a relief that most everyone thinks babies–even when orange, sticky, and rowdy–are cute!
Grocery shopping at Central Market during the day is a friendly, leisurely, almost small-town experience. Between sipping samples of exotic coffees and freshly-baked breads, midmorning shoppers like to stop and talk, or at least take a moment to smile at the two toddlers who want to touch everything they can manage to reach. Trips to the grocery could take hours if C&D’s wriggling didn’t remind me that lunch was in an hour and my cold juice was growing lukewarm.
Back at the car with groceries loaded, I snapped together David’s carseat buckles and saw his eyes blink slowly in the way that signals an impending nap.
Except that naptime wasn’t for another two hours. I was doomed, doomed!
Good thing I had an emergency bag of rolls from Whole Foods in the car. The back seat now needs vacuuming, but I did arrive home with two wakey babes. And at least the rolls weren’t sticky.
Yesterday, David gave us his first temper tantrum in public. We were in the Galleria, walking. David laughed while he was tantrumming, so it wasn’t a very effective one. In fact, even without his laughing it wasn’t even a particularly impressive tantrum, more like a drizzle than a thunderstorm. We were walking in the Galleria. He wanted to walk into a shoe store, and I, holding his hand, did not let him enter. He cried and let himself fall supine to the floor. Except he didn’t fall to the floor completely. David doesn’t like to hurt himself. So first he slackened his legs and fell on his seat, then slowly eased his back and head onto the tile. Once on the floor he screamed and rolled, trying to look angry. He must have felt a little silly, and started to laugh. I picked him up, pointed his body in another direction, and off we went.
I never thought I would own one. When I think of harnesses I imagine parents pulling their children through the mall like errant dogs, the children alternately struggling for freedom and the opportunity to catch up to their parents’ long strides. But since she started walking, we’ve watched Carmen wrestle out of our arms and pull away our hand. What if one day we’re tending to one babe, and the other runs into a crowd, under a clothing rack, up the escalator, or into the street? “Run, run, run!” their little legs say. We hope the harness will help keep the babes close by, especially when they refuse to hold our hand. And hopefully, they’ll also get into the habit of staying by our sides.
At our branch library, we sometimes talk to a librarian who has twins. “Hello!” she said to David yesterday.
He stared at her and blew a slobbery raspberry.
Thanks for showing her what you’re made of, kiddo.
Parenting brings many opportunities for love and all of those other Hallmark feelings (including Get Well Soon). But parenting also brings us closer to countless opportunities for embarrassing ourselves. For example:
Monday morning I was pushing a stroller full of groceries and sticky babies at Houston’s most chi-chi supermarket. At least their clothes matched.
Sunday I giggled at my little boy’s temper tantrum in the middle of Houston’s most chi-chi mall. And this time, his clothes did not match.
Monday afternoon my son blew a raspberry at the nice library lady while Carmen didn’t even bother waving or blowing her a kiss.
On the way back from the library, I stopped at the gas station. While I was filling my tank I was blowing kisses at the babes in their carseats. Then I played peak-a-boo, and stuck out my tongue. When I looked up, a girl with long hair and tall boots was laughing at me.
I’m sure I could think of more.
I have done a bad thing. Well, two.
First, after years of hearing me exalt the many pleasures of a good dark chocolate, Matt finally listened to me and tried a piece of 70% dark. And liked it. Darn. Now I have to share.
And then the other day I gave C&D chicken taquitos for breakfast. Now they want them for snack, lunch, and dinner, too. Good thing they don’t know how to ask for them, yet. David calls his taquitos “hot.” “Haaaaaaaah,” he says, and waits for me to blow on them. I’ve almost always prepared them too hot for him to eat right away. “Hot” is a lot easier to say than “taquito,” anyway.
David is mightily afraid of the trash truck. He screams and hides in a corner unless I am holding him as the truck passes. If the truck is on another street, he stops and looks at me, waiting. “It is coming?” he wants to know. Even the rumble of the trash can on the concrete is enough to freeze David in his tracks and produce instant tears. The trashmen wave and smile, but that seems to make no difference to the boy with my shirt in his fists. Trash day is a hard day around here.
Carmen is afraid of the pots and pans. She got into the pots and pans cabinet this evening and started to cry when she accidentally made them clang.
It’s taken me two days of interruptions to write this post, and it keeps getting longer. Time to hit “publish” and get ready for bed. I think I hear Carmen awake, anyway.
These are the pets I love, these are the pets I love: horse, horse, horse, horse, neigh neigh neigh neigh neigh!
Yippi-yai-yo-kai-yay and howdy from Texas. A few weeks ago I was filling out a form that asked for my occupation. I wrote “baby wrangler.” The entirety of my day involves feeding, leading, and herding two little babes who have learned to run far around and afield like a pair of happy little calves in spring.
Sunday morning we drove west to the George Ranch, our favorite backyard. After a detour to peer through a fence and visit Rooster the horse (above), C&D walked in circles
and chased chickens
for an hour and a half. After a year of walking and wearing our babes out and about, I enjoyed standing around and watching the babes do all the walking.
They will soon be doing all the talking, too. Carmen signs cracker, baby, book (and says “buh”), and tries to sign horse, cat, and mama (but they all look a little like milk). She still blinks all done – milk – all done – milk after she is nursing, but not as often as she did when she figured that little trick out. When she has finished eating something delicious she will often sign all done – more – all done – more. I thought at first she was just confused or babbling, but after weeks of watching her sign the same thing over and over it seems that she’s trying to say that she’s run out of that food and wants more of it. I apologized for being so dense. At least I understand her when she signs for milk.
David can sign baby, eat, orange, and all done now, and more very well, especially when he’s eating something wonderful like gnocchi (a new favorite food). He doesn’t seem to try signing too much else. He does sometimes try to say all done, and this morning said “ho(t)” when he was handling a too-hot chicken taquito.
I still haven’t really heard either of them say “mama” or “daddy” in a way that makes me certain they were referring to me or to Matt. Labeling us with names is clearly not as important as making sure we know that we need to refill their plates.
Baby wranglers shop at Whole Foods. Can I just tell you how much I love my Whole Foods? Let me count the reasons why:
I always get help carrying my groceries to the car. At Central Market I once had to manage four paper sacks and the double stroller; at Target I had to carry a 13-gallon trash can in one hand and push the stroller with the other. But at Whole Foods, someone always carries–and loads–my groceries for me. For that, I forgive Whole Foods for not carrying a good-tasting salsa or a decent package of corn tortillas.
Whole Foods sells rotisserie chicken that C&D rejoice over. In fact, last week as we passed the hot shelf full of chickens, both C&D started extending their arms and jumping up and down in the stroller, their eyes wide. “Uh, uh, uh!” they said. I bought one, of course.
I can find organic . . . everything. So I don’t have to worry about pesticides when Carmen swipes our bag of oranges and begins gnawing on it.
At Whole Foods works a beautiful group of checkout people who always remember us. And they don’t seem to mind if some of the groceries have baby drool on them.
Shoppers have access to a huge selection of fresh breads, sandwiches, salads, and a gigantic self-serve hot table for those times when we’re eating dinner on the run. And guess what? Whole Foods lists the ingredients of every item. Afraid your baby gets sick on soy? Cool on canola? Done with dairy? No chances taken, here.
Hmm. Maybe we’ll go shopping there tonight and eat on the patio. I need more produce, anyway.
Baby wranglers feel so proud to see their babes growing more clever every day. David can work a simple shape puzzle sometimes (like the circle, square, and triangle). Grandma Reisdorf should be proud of that, since she likes puzzles.
It’s interesting to watch C&D’s manual dexterity improve. After several attempts David can now slip a disc into a wooden box that resembles a simplified piggy bank. One side of the box is open so David can retrieve the disc and insert it into the slot again and again. He likes to hear the loud clack sound when the disc hits the bottom of the box. A week or two ago Carmen finally figured out how to stack rings on the ring stacker. She tried for several some frustrating, tearful days before she figured out exactly how to slide the rings over the dowel. I think the fact that David could stack the rings easily made her feel even more bothered.
Several of the rings have wound up scattered about the house, and I should get to finding them. Right now the rings only stack halfway to the top. We’re missing one of David’s little wooden peg men, too. I found one under the refrigerator a few weeks ago; maybeI should check there again.
David has lately been busy bending over and studying the world upside down. Carmen will do it, too, but David enjoys the view a little more. He also likes to make noises that Carmen isn’t so fond of, like banging on a stock pot.
David is afraid of the trash truck’s noises again, though, and will cry when the truck passes unless I’m holding him. And both C&D are afraid of the washing machine’s buzzer (I haven’t always used it because it really does sound awful, and so they aren’t used to hearing it). A couple of weeks ago when the buzzer sounded both would cry, now they just look at me with big eyes and raised eyebrows. Dum-dum-DUM! Dum DUMMMMM! They don’t like thunder, either, so I’ve been lucky it’s been a dry spring thus far.
The day the dishwasher arrived, Carmen figured out how to climb up her slide, and then with our help was able to sit down and slide back down. We should do some more of that this weekend. She has fortunately (for the moment) given up on climbing the futon.
Baby wranglers love clean dishes. In case you were wondering, the new dishwasher is working well. It just barely fit under the kitchen countertop but did leave some awkward gaps all around, so now we’re going to have to get creative with some moulding to cover them (I should look for the little peg man around the dishwasher, first). That’s on the to-do list for this month.
Now I want a new washing machine. Our current one is small and wimpy and doesn’t always wash well, maybe because it doesn’t have as many buttons as the new Kenmore HE4t. More buttons means a better machine, doesn’t it? Actually, for the $1500, I might need a washing machine to dry and hang my clothes, too. And sing lullabyes.
Duty will soon be calling; naptime is almost over.
Today I took David back to Dr. Mazow for a look at his eyes. Matt had a meeting, so Carmen tagged along and I tried not to act outnumbered. Once again, David began crying soon after the doctor entered the room. Hopefully by the time the two meet again (when David turns three), the doctor will have a fresh start on making him smile.
I like Dr. Mazow, anyway.
An hour later we left the office, with a relieved David in the Mei Hip and Carmen in the stroller busy making her kitty dance. But David still felt a little annoyed at the visit, and despite the window tint in the car the morning light still bothered his freshly-dilated eyes. So as I buckled him in his carseat he cried, and cried, and cried.
That happened last time, too. He was so bothered that Dr. Mazow had poked him in the eyes (twice! in each eye!) that he screamed all the way to the car, and then he screamed in the car, all the way down Bellaire Blvd.
Fortunately, Dr. Mazow’s office isn’t far from Whole Foods. I really think Whole Foods is C&D’s favorite place, even more so than the Galleria or the George Ranch. Two weeks ago a screaming post-op David suddenly blinked and stopped crying as soon as he noticed he was in the Whole Foods parking lot.
Today, he didn’t just stop crying, he smiled. We bought some fresh rolls, some fruit, and a kolache for me. We said good morning to our favorite employees and said hello to the Big Boy. We sat in the dining area while C&D each decimated a roll and a banana. While she was eating, Carmen traded with me her piece of banana for the peel in my hand, and then took a big bite of the peel. “Oh, I see,” I told her. “You don’t need me to peel it for you, anymore!” So I handed her a new banana, with the skin peeled back only a little, and she ate it very happily.
I’d better be careful, I might become useless.
Once home the babes napped, played, and then began to annoy each other by fighting over a pair of rhythm sticks (apparently I need another set). I needed to get ready for lunch, so I brought David into the kitchen with me. While I was clearing the table he grabbed the biggest, fattest Fuji apple from the sack of groceries I had just brought in and took a little David-bite out of it. Then later (with still no chance to put away the groceries) I found two pears and two bananas each with one David-bite, and a bruised orange in the hall. My groceries looked as if The Very Hungry Caterpillar had just come to visit.
There is a Ramona Quimby story about Ramona finding a crate of apples in her basement, and taking a bite out of each one. Her exasperated mother makes a big batch of applesauce to rescue the abused fruit.
I had better learn how to make applesauce.
But right now I’m going to make banana bread. My bananas have suddenly turned black.
What does David like best about black beans for lunch? The mess, of course. What I like best about this picture is the spoon AND fork in hand, as if holding both would help him eat all the faster. Fortunately dessert was much neater (except for the apple peels that he spit out). Carmen is much neater (snicker, snicker). She only rubbed tomato sauce into her hair at supper today.
