Eat. Play. Love.

We're into solids. Still trying to master how to keep the food in his mouth, but he loves the new foods, and likes to handle his own spoon. This picture gives him more credit than he deserves, he's not quite that handy with the spoon!  Henry and I had a laugh at his Red Sox outfit. We dress for dinner at our house. ;)

a little trouble

just when I thought he was outgrowing the exersaucer...

Grant loves to explore.  He might be more of a climber than his brother.  I've come around the corner to see his little hiney sticking out of the bottom bookshelf!

Henry calls this the "naughty Grant" photo. Grant is after Mommy's plant with a vengeance. 

But...trouble travels in twos.  Rough and tumble buddies.

Look Out

Grant has learned to crawl, so things at the Leydon house are on full alert. Henry is trying to master the concept that Grant can now attain anything that covers the ground and about 2 feet up. I'm always amazed that crawling not only means horizontal mobility, but vertical movement is close behind. I found him standing at the coffee table in no time. Although Henry should be used to sharing (practice with playgroup and preschool), let's face it, he's two, and he's a big brother. Part of me doubts sharing will ever be 50/50. Right now I just hear panicky phrases like "Mom! Grant's getting close to my train track! No, Grant, not that car!"

I have previously alluded to the fact that Grant thinks Henry is funny. Today I realized I really have my work cut out for me regarding Henry's behavior. As I try to emphasize to Henry that Grant is smaller and he shouldn't put his feet on Grant's head, or steam roll him, or Henry should be careful with his body and not run and jump right in front of him, or throw toys up in the air (ok, am I really picky? Am I taking ALL the fun out of childhood?) Anyway, throughout all these antics, Grant laughs. It's not a mystery which influences Henry's actions more, my nagging, or Grant's positive feedback in chuckles.

6 month stats for Grant:
27 inches (68%)
20lbs. 5oz. (88%)

firefighting

We all wear the firefighter hat around this house, in jest, but sometimes I really do feel like my job is to "put out fires" around the house.

This is an account of a day I had a couple of months ago. Although I don't remember all the details, but for some reason, it really stuck in my memory. Most likely because of the items that fell victim to circumstance.

I believe the day began with some leaky diapers. I do recall starting some laundry immediately, after stripping the beds.  Then, as I was getting Grant changed for the day, Henry heard the call of nature. I stopped to get him set up on the potty, and returned to Grant. Continued to change Grant and was called back to Henry to help him finish up and wash hands. (My method for this is to fill the sink with a little soapy warm water).  Done with Grant, I find Henry sloshing water all around the bathroom, with my toothbrush. Ugh.
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Last night's sleep journal, which has been the typical night's sleep for me way too frequently:
bedtime 9:00pm (this was an attempt to get "extra" sleep)
11pm Grant wakes
1:30am Grant wakes
2:00am Henry wakes to go pee
2:20am After helping Henry and lying down with him for a few minutes, he tells me he has to go poopy. False alarm. We return to settle into bed. He tells me there are dinosaurs coming out from under the couch.
2:40am I return to my bed, (I'm unable to sleep in his bed because I'm afraid of him hurting me, like headbutts, accidental or not, feet in my back, etc.)
2:50am Henry comes into our room wanting to sleep in our bed. George joins him in his bed.
4:00am Grant wakes
5:00am George's alarm rings
6:00am Grant awake again.
7:00am Henry awake.

Needless to say, I felt like I was a zombie today. Like I really drifted in and out of consciousness at times. First thing I did was try to make Henry oatmeal for breakfast, by lighting the fire under the tea kettle. After contemplating whether I'd be able to pull off a shower before getting out the door for preschool (and ruling it out) I realized I smelled something hot. In fact, I had lit the wrong burner and the pots that were on the stove drying through the night were getting mighty hot, while the tea kettle remained cold.

We just ate leftovers the remainder of the day.

Raising kids is like a "it was the best of times, it was the worst of times" kind of story. It's extremely exhausting and terribly frustrating (Henry's on a kick of "I don't want to...", "No!", etc.).  But the kiss and hug at bedtime, or the spontaneous giggles between boys at supper, help to soften the edges of the day (which happened to include broken dishes, argh!).

6 month old Grant

 

 

He has cut a tooth, but continues to blow his lips together whenever we attempt to feed him. We've tried rice cereal and squash. I'm not entirely surprised by his response.