Translation: "Uni"
http://www.ansonlind.com/main.php?g2_itemId=969
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Thursday, January 29, 2009
True Story. Believe What You Want
Anson was hanging out in the basement with Joe, doing manly work. After awhile, Anson stood by the basement steps, and started whining that he wanted to go up. Joe picked him up, and carried him up the small flight of stairs. He put him down on the landing and opened the sliding recessed door to the kitchen for Anson to walk through. Anson didn't move.
Joe walked through the doorway into the kitchen, then stopped to look back to see if Anson would follow him. He didn't.
Joe said to Anson, "I thought you wanted to come upstairs! Where did you want to go?"
Anson threw up his hands, and said "Fo-got".
Joe walked through the doorway into the kitchen, then stopped to look back to see if Anson would follow him. He didn't.
Joe said to Anson, "I thought you wanted to come upstairs! Where did you want to go?"
Anson threw up his hands, and said "Fo-got".
Outnumbered
I'm starting to fully realize what it means to be the only member of the household missing the Y chromosome.
Anson now laughs when he "rips one" (thank you, Joe, for that lovely description).
And, Anson's latest new word? "Toots"
There's a lot of testosterone at my house. And I fear things will only get worse.
Anson now laughs when he "rips one" (thank you, Joe, for that lovely description).
And, Anson's latest new word? "Toots"
There's a lot of testosterone at my house. And I fear things will only get worse.
Monday, January 26, 2009
My Water Baby
Anson had his first session of Water Babies tonight. Tiny, extra-warm therapy pool. 8 other babies all around his age. Permissable, nee ENCOURAGED, splashing. We were fully expecting the little man to pee with delight.
It was so-so.
The first part of the 30 minute class was a bit hairy:
~Joe was in the pool with Anson, trying to help him remember that he actually did like water
~I was on the sidelines, trying (unsuccessfully) not to be the hovering obnoxious Mama striving for the perfect picture
~Anson was trying his best to get out of the water. There was a lot of "No no no no"s with frantic head shaking. There was also a lot of proclaiming that he 'wanted' (signed) "Mama" (spoken)... before you collectively sigh, 'awww', I should point out that he's not missing me. Remeber, Mama was safely on dry land. Where he wanted to be.
At one point, every other parent in the class was neck deep in the water, helping their baby float on their tummies. Except my boys. Joe was standing up, tummy-on-up out of the water. However, that wasn't far enough out of the water for Anson. The little doo had the most terrifed look on his face, and I really think he was trying to climb to the top of Joe's head.
The second part of the class went smoother, mostly because it involved splashing. There could have been kicking as well, but kicking involves laying on your back in the water. That just isn't done. The second part was also when the babies were supposed to 'blow out the birthday candle under the water'... i.e. blowing bubbles. Instead, Joe blew lots of bubbles, prompting giggles and exclaimations of "Bubbles!" Anson actually worked up the courage to put his face in the water - and decided to lick it.
By the last part of the class, Anson was sold on this water baby thing. He got to "jump" into the water (Joe's outstreched hands). He really got into it, and almost figured out the jumping thing! Joe would place him on the deck. Anson would start counting "Ga Ga Ga GA!" and then try to jump forward. A couple of times he actually moved forward a bit, but usually Joe had to help him jump.
So much fun was had! He's quite excited for next week; we could tell by the amount of chatting afterwards. He rehashed every detail about the amazing swimming class for the full 10 minute drive home.
Fingers crossed that swimming makes him sleep through the night!
It was so-so.
The first part of the 30 minute class was a bit hairy:
~Joe was in the pool with Anson, trying to help him remember that he actually did like water
~I was on the sidelines, trying (unsuccessfully) not to be the hovering obnoxious Mama striving for the perfect picture
~Anson was trying his best to get out of the water. There was a lot of "No no no no"s with frantic head shaking. There was also a lot of proclaiming that he 'wanted' (signed) "Mama" (spoken)... before you collectively sigh, 'awww', I should point out that he's not missing me. Remeber, Mama was safely on dry land. Where he wanted to be.
At one point, every other parent in the class was neck deep in the water, helping their baby float on their tummies. Except my boys. Joe was standing up, tummy-on-up out of the water. However, that wasn't far enough out of the water for Anson. The little doo had the most terrifed look on his face, and I really think he was trying to climb to the top of Joe's head.
The second part of the class went smoother, mostly because it involved splashing. There could have been kicking as well, but kicking involves laying on your back in the water. That just isn't done. The second part was also when the babies were supposed to 'blow out the birthday candle under the water'... i.e. blowing bubbles. Instead, Joe blew lots of bubbles, prompting giggles and exclaimations of "Bubbles!" Anson actually worked up the courage to put his face in the water - and decided to lick it.
By the last part of the class, Anson was sold on this water baby thing. He got to "jump" into the water (Joe's outstreched hands). He really got into it, and almost figured out the jumping thing! Joe would place him on the deck. Anson would start counting "Ga Ga Ga GA!" and then try to jump forward. A couple of times he actually moved forward a bit, but usually Joe had to help him jump.
So much fun was had! He's quite excited for next week; we could tell by the amount of chatting afterwards. He rehashed every detail about the amazing swimming class for the full 10 minute drive home.
Fingers crossed that swimming makes him sleep through the night!
Monday, January 5, 2009
Metro Doo
Things have been crazy these past couple of weeks, with preparing for the Holidays (though I don't really know what we prepared for), then experiencing the Holidays, re-experiencing the Holidays with the Linds, and re-re-experiencing the Holidays with the Donohoos.
So many memories, so many more memories of things that are (or soon will be) forgotten. But now to preserve those favorite Anson memories over the last few weeks, without further ado...
~Christmas Day we had our first family-only day. We went to church, enjoyed eggs and cinnamon rolls (minus the rolls for Anson), and started opening presents. We didn't get very far. Anson had 4 presents: Little People School Bus, Little People Barn, pretzels, Rollergirls onsie. Opening presents was lots of fun a couple months ago for his birthday, and so we expected the same degree of fun. Hence the wrapping of the pretzels.
Anson likes paper. Anson likes ripping paper. Anson likes carrying around presents. Anson likes playing "Musical Bows" with all the presents under the Christmas tree.
Anson does NOT like opening presents.
It could be that the first present he opened was the pretzels, and pretzels were still too new to be impressive. But then, he refused to open the fun toys. Was he exerting his newfound independence by not cooperating? Was he scared of the paper? Was he having more fun frustrating his parents? All I know is that there were a lot of "NO!"s, refusals to tear paper, and running away. SEVEN hours later (interrupted by bottles, lunch, naps, snacks, playtime, etc etc) we finally ended the ordeal by opening the last of his presents for him.
~Last week, after a good three hour nap, I heard Anson babbling on the baby monitor. He was happy talking to himself, but I decided to go get him before his baby chatter turned to baby screaming. Our stairs are quite noisy (we call them "burglar proof"), and so he heard me coming. He immediately hushed up. When I opened the door to his room, I found him laying on his back, pressed up against the side of the crib, totally covered by his blankie. As soon as I entered the room, he pushed the blanket off of his face, and shouted "BOO!"
CRACKED me up!
~Tonight, we were all watching a short video on youTube that Joe found. It's really a little disturbing - mostly kitties morphing into other kitties. But, it totally tickled Anson, and even make him laugh out loud!
We were watching the video, not really paying attention to what the little doo was doing with his hands. He had opened my desk drawer, and pulled out a tube of BRIGHT RED lipstick that I randomly had stashed in there. Anson has really enjoyed putting on chapstick lately, so we really didn't think anything of him rubbing a tube across his lips. At one point, I even had looked at him, seen red on his lip, and thought "Huh, his lip is bleeding again". Apparently, I'm one of those moms who doesn't get worked up until a limb is dangling by a thread. I should have payed more attention, but I was gaping at the disturbing morphing kitties. After Anson smeared lipstick all over his face, he worked it into his hands like a good hand cream. We then noticed what was going on.
Did I say BRIGHT RED lipstick?
I exclaimed, "Joe, do something!" which was his cue to read my mind and go run and grab a tissue. We lost precious seconds when Joe failed to do this and I had to explain verbally what he should do. Anson took full advantage of that miscommunication to rub his eyes, pat his tummy, and play with the sleeves of the white blouse I was still wearing.
Needless to say, after a few pictures to document Anson's experimentation as a Metro Doo, he went right into the tub. Where Joe discovered that lipstick doesn't wash off with plain ol' soap and water.
And now, I'm off to go try to scrub lipstick from my expensive Ann Taylor Loft blouse and Anson's "Future President of the United States" t-shirt. While drinking wine. Wine is oh, so needed right now.
So many memories, so many more memories of things that are (or soon will be) forgotten. But now to preserve those favorite Anson memories over the last few weeks, without further ado...
~Christmas Day we had our first family-only day. We went to church, enjoyed eggs and cinnamon rolls (minus the rolls for Anson), and started opening presents. We didn't get very far. Anson had 4 presents: Little People School Bus, Little People Barn, pretzels, Rollergirls onsie. Opening presents was lots of fun a couple months ago for his birthday, and so we expected the same degree of fun. Hence the wrapping of the pretzels.
Anson likes paper. Anson likes ripping paper. Anson likes carrying around presents. Anson likes playing "Musical Bows" with all the presents under the Christmas tree.
Anson does NOT like opening presents.
It could be that the first present he opened was the pretzels, and pretzels were still too new to be impressive. But then, he refused to open the fun toys. Was he exerting his newfound independence by not cooperating? Was he scared of the paper? Was he having more fun frustrating his parents? All I know is that there were a lot of "NO!"s, refusals to tear paper, and running away. SEVEN hours later (interrupted by bottles, lunch, naps, snacks, playtime, etc etc) we finally ended the ordeal by opening the last of his presents for him.
~Last week, after a good three hour nap, I heard Anson babbling on the baby monitor. He was happy talking to himself, but I decided to go get him before his baby chatter turned to baby screaming. Our stairs are quite noisy (we call them "burglar proof"), and so he heard me coming. He immediately hushed up. When I opened the door to his room, I found him laying on his back, pressed up against the side of the crib, totally covered by his blankie. As soon as I entered the room, he pushed the blanket off of his face, and shouted "BOO!"
CRACKED me up!
~Tonight, we were all watching a short video on youTube that Joe found. It's really a little disturbing - mostly kitties morphing into other kitties. But, it totally tickled Anson, and even make him laugh out loud!
We were watching the video, not really paying attention to what the little doo was doing with his hands. He had opened my desk drawer, and pulled out a tube of BRIGHT RED lipstick that I randomly had stashed in there. Anson has really enjoyed putting on chapstick lately, so we really didn't think anything of him rubbing a tube across his lips. At one point, I even had looked at him, seen red on his lip, and thought "Huh, his lip is bleeding again". Apparently, I'm one of those moms who doesn't get worked up until a limb is dangling by a thread. I should have payed more attention, but I was gaping at the disturbing morphing kitties. After Anson smeared lipstick all over his face, he worked it into his hands like a good hand cream. We then noticed what was going on.
Did I say BRIGHT RED lipstick?
I exclaimed, "Joe, do something!" which was his cue to read my mind and go run and grab a tissue. We lost precious seconds when Joe failed to do this and I had to explain verbally what he should do. Anson took full advantage of that miscommunication to rub his eyes, pat his tummy, and play with the sleeves of the white blouse I was still wearing.
Needless to say, after a few pictures to document Anson's experimentation as a Metro Doo, he went right into the tub. Where Joe discovered that lipstick doesn't wash off with plain ol' soap and water.
And now, I'm off to go try to scrub lipstick from my expensive Ann Taylor Loft blouse and Anson's "Future President of the United States" t-shirt. While drinking wine. Wine is oh, so needed right now.
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