S/V Liza Jane & Friends

favorite photos from recent months

2011-11-14T22:24:00.001-08:00

Halloween 2011

2011-11-14T21:56:00.001-08:00

This year for Halloween Morgan wanted to go as Shaun the Sheep, and Maeve is very interested in princesses, so I was able to talk her into going as Princess Diana (rather than a fictional princess).

At our annual playgroup gathering at a local pumpkin farm

Shaun the Sheep has a go on the tractor

Tired kids after Trick-or-Treating in our new neighborhood

Maeve Casey Turns Three

2011-10-06T22:46:00.000-07:00

Well, here we are three years after the birth of our amazing, laughing little girl who introduces herself to people as "Maevey." We call her Maevers, Maevey Jones, Sweet Pea...and her Spanish-speaking friends call her--much to my amusement and delight--Mabe, or Maybe.

Maeve at three: she has always loved her stuffed animals and rarely leaves the house or goes to sleep without an "amminal." When she finds a new amminal she wants to have, she cocks her head and says things like, "Aww, it's so sweet! Mama, look at how cute it is!"

She dances expressively when telling stories, waving arms and standing on tiptoes as she excitedly tells her Papa about her day. Nearly every day, she turns on music so she can do her "ballet" on the living room rug, which she calls her "Lonnie-Con Stage." I have no idea what that means, but she's been calling it that for a year or more, and heaven forbid Morgan should fly his remote-control helicopter over her Lonnie-Con Stage while she's using it!

Maeve is becoming a little fish just like her brother--in three short weeks she has gone from complete refusal to dunk her head or even get water in her eyes, to attempts to dive for toys and insistence that she can swim on her own and that I should wait for her near the wall while she shows me. And she can, too! She puts her head right in, kicks her legs wildly and flings her arms around her head, then resurfaces with a beaming smile on her face that can leave no doubt as to how proud she feels.

Maeve has lots of friends, but there are a few girls with whom she is particularly close. It's such a delight to see her growing up with these girls, moving through different phases of play with them. A year ago they all played "Sick Kitty Cats" for months, in which one of them was the vet and the others were sick cats who needed tending to. Now they like to get into dress-up clothes and dance together, or they play in the toy kitchen, making each other eggs and vegetables. Their conversations are pure gold--I love to hear them explaining how the world is according to them.

Maeve has added amusing adult-like expressions to her speech lately. One I particularly enjoyed recently was when I was making tea for her friend Echo. "Maeve, would you like some tea too?" I asked. "No," she replied, "I'm good." When she tells a story about someone making a face or gesture, she uses the ubiquitous phrase, "She was like [makes face or gesture]." She once asked me if she could have gum and when I told her we didn't have any, she responded with, "We-e-elllll, I could have one piece, at least, right?" while vigorously nodding in agreement with herself.

One of Morgan's favorite Maeve moments was when she asked me if she could "sleep in the bed tonight." I told her that of course she could (as if we usually make her sleep in the basement!) and she said enthusiastically "Thank you, Mama. You're so sweet!"

I'll end this post by saying that life with Maeve is joyful, funny, challenging, and beautiful.

We love you so much, Maevey.

xoxo,
Mama

Mama's Coffee Habit

2011-10-03T20:52:00.000-07:00

At 8:30 last night as we were all driving home from visiting friends in Santa Rosa, I stopped at a little out-of-the-way strip mall to get a coffee from Starbucks. When I walked up to the door, however, I discovered that the shop had already closed for the evening. "Why would it be closed?" asked Morgan incredulously.

"Because it's a hole in the wall," replied Casey.

After Casey explained what he meant by that expression, Maeve suggested casually, "Why don't we go to a different cookie store? How about Peet's?"

vignettes from the life of a nearly three-year-old

2011-09-20T20:11:00.000-07:00

Maeve wears a fancy dress and a jaguar-spotted cape. "I'm Princess Kate!" she tells me.

Morgan, wearing nothing but a fleece blanket secured around his neck, adds: "...and I'm her assistant, Batman. Together, we save the world!"

"SAVE THE WORLD!!" Maeve shouts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Maeve and her good friend Echo are playing with the toy kitchen, pretending to be mother and child. Echo says to Maeve, "Here's your dinner, honey. Here's your beer, and here's your shampoo, and here's your salt. I'm gonna make it really really spicy for you."

She hands Maeve various props, to which Maeve replies, "Thank you, Mom! You're so sweet!"

Echo then pours from a bottle, telling Maeve, "Now you can have an oil drink. It's really super, super..." She pauses, searching for the right descriptor. "...oiled."

Maeve picks up her glass and begins to inform her "mother" that she isn't allowed to drink beer, being a young girl. But then her glass slips, and she cries out, "Oh no! My beer spilled! Noooo!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Maeve and Isa are riding home in my car from their co-op Sweetie Pies. Isa is absolutely rhapsodic about the dress and shoes she recently wore to her aunt's wedding. "These are my wedding shoes, aren't they pretty? They're gold and they stay on my feet because there's a strap here across the top! And my wedding dress, I love my wedding dress. It was so beautiful I couldn't believe my eyes!"

Maeve sighs heavily and hangs her head. She seems to be speaking about a general malady when she says in a forlorn voice, "I can't believe my eyes, either."

Tough Questions from Morgan

2011-06-08T20:44:00.000-07:00

Tonight when he was supposed to be going to sleep, Morgan was busy thinking. He insisted, between yawns, that he was not in fact tired. He snapped his fingers--a recently acquired skill--and wrestled with his bedclothes. He sang songs to himself, and went over in a whisper the steps used to form some of the upper-case letters he's been learning at Occupational Therapy.

"Mama," he asked, "are Huckle and Lowly and their friends real?"
"No, they're cartoons."
"Oh. 'Cause I wish that Huckle was my twin brother, and Lowly was our other brother, and Huckle's sister was our little sister. Then I could play with them all the time."
"Yes, that would be nice. Close your eyes, now."

For a few minutes he adjusted his sheets, asking me each time to re-apply his blankie (it has to be flat, cold, and laid just so on his chest). Then, apropos of nothing, he began a new line of questioning:

"I don't really understand how you can choose when you have a baby and when you don't. How does a mama do that?"
"Well," I stalled. "Um. You can keep the sperm and the egg from meeting each other. Because the egg and the sperm have to meet to start growing a baby, remember?"
"Yeah. But I mean, when the sperm comes out of Papa's penis. How come you can't just say what you want?" he went on.
"I'm not sure I know what you're asking," I said.
"Why can't you just say what you want? Because I really would love to have Huckle as my brother."

Trying not to laugh, I explain about how humans can't make cat babies and why. And I remind him, again, that Huckle is just a cartoon. He seems to get it, remembering that babies are made of instructions from the mama and instructions from the papa, and that both Casey and I are decidedly not feline and cannot pass on any cat instructions.

"Well," he says, "what about Lowly?"

Musical Maeve

2011-06-08T18:36:00.000-07:00

To the tune of It's Raining, It's Pouring: "I'm nakey, I'm nakey, I'm really really nakey!"

"Baa baa, black sheep, have you any wolf? Yes sir, yes sir, three bags full. One for the yes sir, one for the dame..."

Singing along with Michael Jackson's song Leave Me Alone: "Baby alone! Baby alo-o-one!"

She says her favorite song is one that goes "I love you, I love you, I really love you." "And ABC and twinkle twinkle." She makes up her own songs constantly; today I heard her singing a song about a puppy. "I love puppies, I really want a puppy. Someday when I'm big maybe I will have a puppy. I love you, puppy, I love you!"

Daredevil McMullen Boys

2011-06-07T18:45:00.000-07:00

Morgan and Casey ride the gravity zip line at Camp Augusta family camp. We had an amazing weekend there with friends!

2011-06-01T22:09:00.000-07:00

Maeve and Morgan are in their carseats, and are supposed to be falling asleep now. Instead, they're hiding under their fleece blankets and playing hide-and-seek as if there was any question where the hider will be found. Morgan hides his head under the blanket and Maeve counts: "One, two, three...ten, eleven, eighteen, sixteen, you're welcome, twelve! Ready or not, here I come!"

After Morgan has fallen asleep, Maeve is wide awake and chatting, singing, rearranging her blanket. Soon, she tells me she wants Morgan to wake up. "Because, I love him! I want to play with him more. He's my best friend!" she says, in tears.

Astute Observations by Morgan

2011-05-24T23:03:00.000-07:00

"When it's bedtime, Bert does all the right things. But Ernie? He is JUST. WILD."

2011-05-03T21:09:00.001-07:00

We have a land line that we never use to call out, but sometimes it rings and if the kids are close by they like to answer it. I've been letting them pick up, since nobody we know has the number...when it rings it's usually a telemarketer or a wrong number. Tonight the phone rang as I was getting supper ready, and Morgan answered it. I listened to make sure everything was okay, but made no move to take over the call.

First Morgan said hello several times, then, "I can't hear you very well." At some point he handed the phone to Maeve, who listened intently but said nothing. She handed the phone back to Morgan, who tried again to establish a conversation.

Finally I heard him say, "I hate to tell you this, but we're kids."

Great American Novelist

2011-05-02T21:17:00.000-07:00

Morgan spent supper time tonight not eating, but writing his first words. They are as follows:

B RED AND B POO AND B PEE AND B FART

A real world leader in the making here, obviously.

Wouldn't Mama Be Proud?

2011-04-20T18:50:00.001-07:00

Maeve at 31 months: "When I grow like a mama, I will give my babies Bibi." Enough said.

Hanging with the Cousins

2011-04-03T21:28:00.000-07:00

Maeve is often heard to say, dreamily and apropos of nothing, "Natalie is my cousin. I like my cousin Natalie." And Morgan, for his part, frequently compares his friends to his cousin Julian, as in the commonly heard statement "Well, Julian said so. And Julian is cooler than ______ so I know he's right." Needless to say, Morgan and Maeve were both over the moon about spending the weekend at Jeffrey and Myoko's new home in Oakland.

Today while the girls were flitting around the front yard looking at flowers and jumping over small stones, Maeve pointed to a round garden sculpture with a smiling moon-face on it. "Dere's da moon! Wight dere unnah dat bush!" she exclaimed in amazement.

"Dat's not da moon!" Natalie retorted scornfully. "Dat's, dat's...dass a spidah home."

Morgan and Julian spent a huge portion of the weekend in Julian's bedroom, door closed and radio blasting bad music at full volume. They had Julian's O-scale model train and his Lego bullet train out, setting them on the tracks, taking turns running each one. Morgan's dreams came true when Julian agreed to let him take home an engine and two cars, in exchange for leaving a new candy-apple red 1950s model Corvette in Oakland.

Casey and I had a great time, too--chatting, laughing and cooking with Jeffrey and Myoko while the kids giggled and cavorted around us. I wish every weekend could be as relaxed and pleasant.

Family Anthem

2011-03-25T14:37:00.000-07:00

more quotes from Maeve

2011-03-09T08:09:00.000-08:00

"I don't like the pink spoons, and I don't like the pink spoons, but I do like the blue spoons. I have the blue spoons for Os [cereal]. Mmmmmm...it's so good! I ate it up, and I gobbled it. "

"I want my pink water bottle. The one that Baba got for me. We both got one! Morgan got the blue one, and I got the pink one! The bubbles goes around. Cool, bubbles! I can see them."

She woke up with a sudden scream last night at about 2am, crying, "You ate some of my snack! You ATE IT! I don't want you to eat it, don't! Give it back!!"

Upon hearing Morgan crying because he hit his head: " "I want Morgan to come in my bath, because he's sad and I tink he be happy in the bath. We will play and he feel better. He's my brother. Yeah, he's my big brother."

As I was rocking her to sleep one night, she dropped the small panda toy she was holding. "Aww, what the fuck? I dropped my panda, Mama!" This one, she learned from her good friend Isa. I promise it wasn't me.

Tea Party with Sweetie Pies

2011-03-01T15:10:00.000-08:00

Today Morgan participated in Maeve's co-op playgroup, Sweetie Pies. He was fully engaged with the girls (the boys in the group were both absent today): he played Playmobil with them; led them in a loud musical parade; and took baby dolls for walks in various slings, strollers and carriers with them. He also painted the girls' faces and had Zoila ("Soy-lah"), our caregiver, paint his own face as a kitty. (He looked more like a Zombie Kitty, but he loved it anyway.)

At one point he came to me to ask he if could make tea and serve it to them. Here he is holding a tea party for Maeve, Isa and Willow.

Maeve's Musings

2011-02-05T15:00:00.000-08:00

Maeve at age 28 months:

"I bonked myself, I got a booboo! With my cup, I bonked myself with water! I'm so sad. And I said it hurted!"

"I found that little tiny penguin and I had him in my hand."

"I don't want salsa on my quesadilla; it's spicy. Yeah, I don't like salsa...but you like salsa, right Mama? Does Papa like salsa? Does Morgan like salsa?"

Who's on First

2011-01-18T10:08:00.000-08:00

Morgan and Sebastian, both age 5, in the car:

S: I can do a joke, wanna hear?
M: Okay.
S: Knock, knock!
M: ____________...
S: You say, who's there?
M: _____...
S: Knock, knock!
L: Who's there?
S: Ummm, hot dog! Get it, a DOG, is HOT! He's cooking his self!!

S: Knock, knock!
M: Who's there?
S: Know why? Cow pie! A cow that's in a pie!

S: Why did the skeleton, why could he NOT cross the street?
M: Because he was just bones?
S: He didn't have any guts. Get it? He didn't have any mush because he was just a skeleton.
M: Are you joking? [to me] I'm asking because he sometimes does jokes.

The Wonderer

2010-12-19T17:10:00.000-08:00

From Morgan at age 4y11m: "Does the Big Bad Wolf just go around blowing people's houses in, or does he have his own house somewhere?"

a-Mae-zing

2010-12-01T17:08:00.000-08:00

Maeve's language has taken off in an incredible way lately. At 26 months, here are some of the more entertaining things she's said recently:

"Here, it's soup." (feeds Papa with dollhouse shovel) "No more. Make you sick."

"I sad because you say 'Ow!'"

"No wanna go pee-pee. Because I have pants."

"I don't get it." (regarding, possibly, song lyrics)

"I wanna dance with Micah Jack-thun!" (said in the middle of the night, in a crying fit.)

Today at the park Morgan asked her to go do stomp rockets with him. "No thank you," she said cheerfully. "But I really want you to come with me!" said Morgan. She held her ground: "No thank you. I'm busy playing here."

Tonight as I removed her ponytails in preparation for bedtime, she complained, "Awww! You took my ponies!"

Friday Afternoon

2010-11-12T15:10:00.000-08:00

I'm making pesto with my two-year-old sous-chef Maeve. When she's not asking me whether it's time to pulse the blender, she's picking treats out of the snack basket--she now has an open bag of cashews and almonds, a small bowl of popcorn, and some pretzels--and singing "Now I ABC my Es, neck time woah do dee dee dee."

Long-Overdue Update

2010-09-14T10:32:00.001-07:00

The kids are so active and doing so much fun stuff that I can't keep up on this blog. I will try here to give a little glimpse into our lives these days.

Morgan is a whirlwind, as usual. He enjoys drumming VERY enthusiastically on the floor and couch, and is actually developing some stick skills. He plays along with Dan Zanes and Friends, mostly to his two favorite songs, "Jesus on the Mainline" (an interesting choice for the son of two non-religious folks) and "Let's Shake," which is also one of Maeve's favorites. Morgan knows when to use fills and has some fairly complex rhythm patterns including triplets. Maeve, for her part, dances with abandon and is often requested by Morgan to be the singer for the band. We bought her a little toy microphone so she would seem more legit at their gigs.

Morgan has recently decided to form his own band, which he calls "The Fire of the UNICEF." It seems to be a thrash-metal group, with songs that feature lots of screaming and negativity. Here is a recent set-list:

"These are songs you can follow along with if you have a broken vacuum. So bring it when you hear the band and you'll find out how to fix it."

"If your kids want to go to an arcade, Say NOOOOOOOO! [screaming] then just spin them around... like crazy!"

"Now here's one for kids who want to buy a real drum set. NOOOOOOO!!"

"Do you want your hiccups cured? NOOOOO! I WANNA HEAR HICCUPS!"

Morgan also has an interest in the piano. We bought a Clavinova keyboard off Craigslist a few months ago, and while it mostly collects dust, every once in a while he sits down to play something. He picked out the theme to The Backyardigans (his favorite cartoon) all by himself, as well as the synthesizer line in Michael Jackson's "Billie Jean" (which Maeve used to call "Belly Bean" and has now corrected to "Billie Jeans"). His latest desire is a trumpet, for which we feverishly scour the internet.

The kids are both into Michael Jackson, singing along and dancing. Morgan says his Michael Jackson moves are better than anyone else's--a claim which may prove to be overinflated somewhat. Maeve sings along to "Micah Jakkin" songs such as "Thriller" and "Beat It."

Morgan has been making strides in other areas, as well. In the past months he's begun drawing and painting recognizable pictures. He made a very cool painting which is actually NOT recognizable, because he drew it from his very unique point of view: it shows the chassis, wheels and shocks of a toy monster truck. Speaking of point of view, he surprised me one day while playing with the dollhouse by telling me that the tiny lamp should go on one of the bedside tables, "the one on the left side of the bed if you were in the dollhouse." He then placed it on the correct table even though he was facing the opposite direction than a doll looking at the bed. It struck me as pretty neat that he's now at an age where he can take someone else's point of view, in the abstract. I can't believe he's almost five!

He still gets some words amusingly mixed up, though. He still calls instructions "constructions." Sadly, he no longer calls harmonicas "hockar-mahnas." But he and Maeve have small stuffed hedgehogs, which he calls "hench-hogs" and Maevey calls "hock-hocks." Last week at the park we had a discussion about Au Pairs, as several of our friends have Au Pairs now. He was asking about why they only stay for a year, and if they live with the families. He then asked if they were like helpers. Yes, I replied. "So are henchmen!" he said in amazement. Funny boy.

Maeve knows about Au Pairs too. She once opened the fruit drawer of the fridge and asked if she could eat an Au Pair. She has lots of other good ones too, like "gobble gop" (bottle cap) and "toolah" (stroller). A few days ago she was having trouble untangling her toy stroller from the dining chairs, and she began screaming, "My toolah tuck! My toolah TUCK!" She seems to get hair stuck to her sucking thumb quite often, and her way of asking me to remove it is, "Pee-see hee-ah!" i.e., "piece of hair!" She is a very affectionate little one, and she likes to say, "I love you, Morgan," or Mama or Papa. She tells me, "I miss Papa he at wook." She enjoys calling people on the phone when the urge strikes. Maeve is a shockingly decent conversationalist for a two-year-old. She answers questions, tells what she's been up to, and says goodbye when she's done--though not necessarily when the other party is! She had the following conversation with me when we tried to call Papa but the connection failed:

Maeve: I wanna talka Papa.
Me: Yeah, but the call got cut off.
Maeve (with concern): Papa got cut?
Me: No, it's just a phrase.
Maeve: Oh. Phrase?
Me: Yes.
Maeve: (pause) Papa cut phrase?

Maeve also loves to read books. Her current favorite is one that Casey brought home from a thrift shop and I thought might be too scary for the kids just yet: "Discovering The Iceman." It has photos of the decaying body of 3500-year-old man discovered in the Italian Alps. Not my first choice for preschooler fare, so I put it away when he brought it home. But Maeve is just fascinated, and she keeps finding the book and bringing it to us, calling out, "Read Ite-man! Read Ite-man!"

With Halloween coming up, I made the kids their costumes again this year. Morgan is going as Uniqua from The Backyardigans, and Maeve will be a dragon. Here's a sneak peek, from a recent trip to a pumpkin patch with friends:

Weekend Fun

2010-08-02T12:25:00.000-07:00

Busy weekend for the McMullen clan! On Saturday all four of us went sailing with Baba Michelle and Jiji Michael on their boat S/V Nomi.

The kids are turning into little sailors, much to our delight. We headed from the marina in Alameda toward Berkeley to check out the kite festival, which we could see from the water. There were enormous octopus kites (18 of them in an octopus fleet!) and lots of smaller kites. Morgan kept asking when he could drive the boat, and we could see him learning how to make smaller, more accurate corrections as he began to understand how the helm responds. He took us under the Oakland-San Francisco Bay Bridge on the way back, with a huge smile on his face.

Maeve took a short nap under sail, happily dozing, oblivious to the sails and hardware flogging loudly as we tacked back and forth.

She was much happier to be aboard this time than last, jumping up and down and dancing. She pointed out other boats on the water, and she loved to lean over the edge of the cockpit, talking about the water and the trail of bubbles our boat left behind.

Maeve also had a chance to take the helm, though with considerably less awareness than her brother!

After a delicious dinner at Picante in Berkeley, we got in the car and drove up to Santa Rosa to visit our friends the Bowsers. We spent the night and had pancakes for breakfast, then began preparations for Violet's third birthday party. We all had a great time celebrating with our friends at the Tinkerbell-themed party. Morgan and Maeve each had their faces painted:

When Violet received a Hello Kitty make-up kit as a gift, all the kids went in the house to try it out. After a few minutes, the boys had all abandoned the scene--all except for Morgan, who watched, absolutely rapt, as a ten-year-old neighbor girl administered make-up to the toddlers, cooing to them that they looked "so beautiful!" and gently removing lip gloss and blush from their sticky little hands, saying, "Oh! That's really messy, I think we're done with that!" as they smeared it across their cheeks. Morgan waited patiently for his turn, quivering with excitement when his glittery lipstick was applied. Then he jumped up, ran outside and joined the fray with the other kids having a battle with foam axes. I just love how he is so exuberant and engaged, so enthusiastic about life, whether he's dressing up as a fairy princess or practicing extreme stunts on his bike. I love to see him grow, embracing his passions whatever they may be.

Little Tumblers

2010-07-22T20:17:00.000-07:00

Please enjoy this movie of Morgan and Maeve tumbling their little hearts out at gymnastics class. THANK YOU! to the grandparents who are so generously "sponsoring" these classes for the kids. They are having SO much fun!

Post for Maeve from Papa

2010-06-06T22:42:00.001-07:00

Maeve,

As life is much more busy with two kids instead of only one, Mama doesn't have as much time to post about what is going on in our lives. You and your brother are really keeping us busy lately. The pictures that go up are great "snapshots" of life but I do worry a little bit that we aren't recording your growth as much as we'd like.

A few items I'd like to put on the record:

You love music and love to dance. Your favorite song is "Me, You, We", a Music Together song. It is a bit telling that your favorite section of the song is the repeated phrase "No", especially the part where it is shouted. But it is also telling that the other day when you started singing this song, and you got to that part, I joined in with "No!" with appropriate enthusiasm, it startled you such that you started to cry and I had to pick you up to provide comfort. You are definitely an emotionally sensitive individual.

You also love food. You are often asking for whatever food you can see up on the counter, be it crackers, cheese or avocado. It tickles me that you love olives and anchovies and will eat them alone or on pizza. Today, as usual, I carried you on my back at the farmer's market that we've been going to every week. It's a bit of a chore because in addition to steering Morgan through the crowd while Mama picks out produce, I have to be cautious not to stand too close to a display of strawberries/cherries/peaches or you lean out reaching and issuing your trademark "uhm, uhm, uhm!" which is your generic call for "I want to eat some of that!" My task also involves snagging sufficient free samples to pass under my arm to keep you satisfied, while hoping that you'll buy my claims that Mama is buying some of that and we can have more at home.

While you are still very cautious when your brother thunders around, the two of you have recently been getting along a little more; especially mugging at each other, making faces and funny noises, and going back and forth with him mimicking your toddler gibberish. It was driving Mama a little crazy at the dinner table tonight while the two of you laughed and mugged at each other, but I was secretly chuckling inside. I look forward to seeing the friendship between the two of you grow in the future. It reminds me in many ways of myself and your aunt Bethy with whom you may know I am very close.

The last thing I want to say is that you are my sunshine. Whenever I see you, whatever you are doing, you make me smile inside. I love to hold you and carry you around with our faces close so we can chat. When I come home from work in the evening, you and your brother shout and dance around, and you usually come over and give me your tiny hug. I feel honored to be watching you grow into the wonderful person you are becoming.

-Papa

2010-05-20T13:49:00.000-07:00

Developing Fine Motor Skills

2010-05-20T13:30:00.000-07:00

Morgan has, until recently, had zero interest in drawing, painting, or any kind of art. Then he spent an afternoon making chalk drawings on our back patio with Beth and Scott. The next day, as I was busy making supper, he went out again by himself. After several quiet minutes, he called out to me, "Mama! I know how to make a turtle! First I draw his head, then I put on his tongue. Next I draw a line, that's the bottom of his shell, that the shell connects to. And the legs connect to the ends of the shell!"

Voila--his first representational art:

Friends

2010-05-20T13:12:00.001-07:00

M and A enjoy a cookie at Peet's Coffee

Photo Essay: Life with Big Brother

2010-05-20T13:04:00.000-07:00

enjoying a warm afternoon outside

making funny faces so Mama will laugh

trouble on the horizon

"RRRAAAAAAAH!"

tickles and kisses

Curriculum Vitae

2010-01-20T14:03:00.000-08:00

Maeve Casey McMullen
Super-Cute Toddler Extraordinaire

past experience:
10-10-09: takes first steps
10-14-09: nods very solemnly in response to questions
attempts to say "Beth"
10-25-09: says "bonk" and "uh-oh"
10-29-09: drives toy truck with accompanying sound effects ("vrrmmm")
points with one finger
Nov 2009: walking preferred over crawling

words:
Mama
Papa
Bibi (nursing)
mimi (blankie)
pee pee
poo poo
bonk
uh-oh
baby
bubble
mine
bean
Beetzie ("Boogsie")
bah (ball)
bye (bike)
bye (goodbye)
NO!
booh (book)
puppah (puppy)
key (kitty)
pea
boon (balloon)
Becca
Coco
peetdah (pizza)
'poon (spoon)
deet (teeth)
cookie
keh-kah (cracker)
da (yes)
belly
bdah (bear)
beep

signs:
hat
hat
hat
milk
water
blanket
hat
eat
all done
more
book
ball
hat
potty
bear
light

special qualifications:
maniacal laugh
proud owner of six teeth
will eat anything
loves to dance
obsessed with hats (and other assorted head gear)

Sibs

2010-01-13T20:52:00.001-08:00

Tonight we went out for supper with Baba Michelle and Jiji Michael to one of our favorite Mexican restaurants, Fiesta del Mar. The kids were hungry but good-natured and dinner was quite pleasant. We laughed about Maeve scooping up Pico de Gallo with her fingers, exactly as Morgan had done when he was nearly the same age, at the same restaurant. Baba reminded us that when Morgan did that, I had asked (unsure of whether it was spicy or not), "Is he going to be sad later?"

During the meal, Maeve pointed across the table to Morgan and called out the word she uses to refer to him, "Beetzy!" We suddenly realized what she was saying. "Are you calling him Boogsie?" I asked. She nodded happily, relieved that we finally understood her. Boogsie is what we've sometimes called Morgan since he was an infant. It is, of course, short for Booger Jones. As if you didn't know.

After supper we walked up the block to the gelato shop for dessert. Morgan got a cone with strawberry gelato. As the adults all offered Maeve small tastes from their cups, Morgan held his cone in front of her mouth and encouraged her to taste his since it was better than anyone else's. "Did you bite it, Maevey?" he asked. "You should bite it."

I hope they will always remember what it feels like to have a sibling to love.

Getting into the Holiday Spirit(s)

2009-12-17T23:44:00.000-08:00

Our Cute Kids

2009-12-15T17:02:00.000-08:00

Morgan loves to go to the local instrument shop and try out guitars. His favorite by far is the pink Hello Kitty guitar featured in this video:

One of the first things Maeve said was "Uh oh!" This video shows how we make our kids perform like trained monkeys, a la Leopold Mozart. Here's hoping they won't drink themselves into an early grave because of it.

Of course Maevey had to get her own "Bicycle!" video. She's now even more skilled on the bike, and attempts to follow Morgan and his friends all around the playground.

New Photos Added

2009-11-17T20:58:00.000-08:00

I've added approximately 18 months' worth of photos to our shutterfly share site. Link at right. Enjoy!

All I Want for Christmas

2009-11-12T17:15:00.000-08:00

It's that time of year again! This year I've made wishlists on Amazon, which seems easier to use than Kaboodle. With Amazon, you can mark the item you've bought so there won't be duplicates.

We've bought a nice wooden dollhouse for Morgan and Maeve as a joint Christmas present this year, so we thought it would be nice if you all would give dolls and furniture as gifts. The dollhouse is made by Ryan's Room toys, and will work with either Ryan's Room or Plan Toys accessories. The wishlist is merely a guide, so please feel free to get any dollhouse furniture or dolls that you think the kids will enjoy. You can see the list by clicking HERE.

For Morgan's 4th birthday he would love to have more LEGOs. He is completely smitten with the little bricks and we're happy to have him playing with something that develops spatial reasoning and math concepts! (Plus, did I mention that he sometimes plays quietly for up to 30 minutes with his LEGOs?) The list I've made is full of the sets he's asked specifically for, even though they're slightly beyond his age range. Plain ol' bricks are always welcome also, as you can never have too many LEGO bricks. You can see Morgan's birthday wishlist by clicking HERE.

Genetically Modified Morganisms

2009-11-01T21:29:00.000-08:00

"I'm going to have three girls and I'm going to drive a Ford Expedition. One will be named Sonja. One will be Hickabod. One of them will be named Soonie."

*************

Morgan is telling Nana about some adventure he had recently.
Nana: "That sounds like fun."
Morgan: "Enough fun to melt metal!"

Happy Birthday, Maeve Casey

2009-10-04T20:07:00.000-07:00

You're one year old today, little one. Hard to believe you've been here that long, because it seems like only a few months ago that I started having contractions and wondered if you were really on your way to meet us.

One year ago today was a Saturday, so Papa and I took Morgan to the park. I had contractions all afternoon, and by 6pm I called the midwife, Ronnie Falcao, to check in. She was telling me which herbs I could take to encourage labor, and keeping track of the contractions. I was on the phone with her for an hour, and by the end she was laughing and saying she would see us later that night, so sure you were on your way. She arrived at 9:30pm and set up her things while I bobbed in the birthing tub. I was feeling so relaxed and surrounded by love. A little after 11, I asked Ronnie if she was going to check me to see how far along I was. She answered with a chuckle, "Oh, I don't do that. Especially not for second babies. You'll know when to push, trust me!" At 11:29pm, I suddenly blurted out "I NEED TO PUSH NOW!" You were born three pushes and 9 minutes later. After Ronnie cleared the umbilical cord from your neck and shoulder, Papa helped your body emerge and passed you to me. I pulled you to my chest, overcome with joyful emotion. Morgan, Beth, Papa and Nada were all there to meet you. You gave a small cry, then settled in to rest with me.

Morgan, however, had other ideas. "I'm going to take the baby to my room now, okay?"

I hope that you and Morgan continue to be as fond of one another as you are now. Your eyes light up when you hear Morgan's voice; Morgan feels lonely when you take a long nap and asks if we can wake you up. You two don't really play together yet, so much as you play near each other. I still have to keep an eye or ear on you, because often everything's hunky dory one second then there's screaming the next.

You're an easy-going baby, much like your brother was. But when there is an injustice, watch out world! You can do flat-eyes just like me--your eyes are completely flat across the top, rounded at the bottom. It is a look that could kill. Probably because you have an older sibling to perpetrate injustice against you, you've learned to throw a baby tantrum long before your brother figured this out. Take away the food or toy you've been working on and you go to pieces, flinging your body wildly and screeching. It is a sight to behold.

You've learned to direct us to where you want to go, leaning your body forcefully in the direction you desire. Just tonight you urged Papa into the dining room to recover your forgotten sippy cup, then corralled him back to the kitchen for more cherry tomatoes from the supper I was making. We are constantly amazed at how well you can communicate for someone so small and nonverbal. We can't wait to find out what you will say to us when you learn to speak!

Tonight we had a birthday celebration with the Ackerman-Bennett family, and Baba and Jiji. You almost slept through supper--but somehow you managed to wake up right when Papa lifted his first forkful to his mouth. After supper we brought out a small cake for you, helped you blow out the candles. You put your hand onto the cake, looked at us to check if that was alright, then took your hand away and didn't touch it again. Papa tried to feed you some, but you weren't very interested. It's okay, the cake wasn't actually that good. It was the first time I'd ever baked a cake from scratch and the recipe came from a super-healthy cookbook, Feeding the Whole Family. Let's just say it was made with whole wheat flour, and leave it at that.

My own words are not enough to express all that you mean to us, Maeve, so here are some words of Baba's on this occasion:

It is quite unbelievable but your first birthday is here, and you are just about to walk your first steps. You make yourself at home in the world in a lively way, letting us know what you like and what you want, what you don't want, where you want us to take you, and when. Your parents and your brother are so lucky to be able to touch you and kiss you and love you every day. Do you know how wonderful that is? I hope your birthday is as fine as can be. . .I know your laughter will grace the day and fill the hearts of everyone around you with joy and delight.

We love you so much, little Maevey. We're so glad you're here.

Camping Trip

2009-09-04T11:53:00.000-07:00

At the end of August--one day after our arrival home from San Diego--we packed up and took off again, this time headed for the Sierras. We stayed two nights at Wright's Lake with the Burr family. We celebrated Julian's 7th birthday with surprise cupcakes and ice cream bars (thanks to the magic of dry ice!). Morgan and Julian swam, rode bikes, and hiked. The weather was beautiful, not too hot but not very cold at night either.

Wright's Lake at sunset

Julian hiking with Natalie

Morgan with his walking stick

Morgan and Julian scout out a lunch spot

Siblings carrying cousins

Summer's Come and Gone

2009-09-03T12:49:00.000-07:00

Summer is on its way out, and I've not blogged as much as I'd hoped to. We had a lot going on this summer, so I'm going to post some pictures to illustrate the season.

In June both kids had Chicken Pox, first Morgan and then Maeve. It wasn't too bad for us: one night of itchiness and crying for each child. For the most part neither kid slowed down much at all with this illness. The hardest part of it all was keeping Morgan at home so as not to infect others. Here is Maeve enjoying a baking soda bath to ease the discomfort:

We spent a day at the Alameda County Fair with Baba, having a great time on the rides and eating Funnel Cake--Morgan's first! As we rode the carousel he told me a story about this cat, something involving the cat living in the woods with Morgan and catching fish for Morgan to eat.

Still fairly obsessed with vehicles, Morgan rode this one about 15 times.

In early August we went up to Sacramento to crash the homeschool conference (we will be attending for real next year) and visit the train museum with friends. Morgan and Rigel love trains but were wary of the loud noises when this diesel engine was coupled to the sight-seeing train.

Maeve's opinion of trains, so far:

We spent a good amount of time inside the museum, and we'll definitely come back again next year.

Mid-August saw us road-tripping down to San Diego to spend a week with Becca, John, and their three kids. This really should have been a post all its own, because boy was it ever an adventure. The short version is: we left Redwood City at 1am hoping to make most of the drive while Morgan and Maeve slept in their carseats. At 4am, just as I was thinking fondly of all the road-trips I've taken (Vancouver B.C.; L.A. approximately 20 times; Seattle thrice; Carbondale, CO; and the list goes on...) we hit something sharp on I-5. Pulling off the road with a busted rear tire, I noticed a handful of other vehicles on the shoulder as well. Seems we all hit the same thing, and when we pulled back onto the road an hour later we passed another minivan with two flats and counted ourselves lucky. We finally arrived in San Diego, a bit worse for wear, after 13 hours of travel.

While in San Diego we went to Sea World (courtesy of Becca's mom Diane) and the boys rode their first "real" roller coaster. It was a great one, a combination roller coaster/flume ride. When it was done, Morgan wanted to go again. (Pachie and Sebastian wanted OFF. NOW.) Below are samples of our attempts to get a photo of all five kids outside Sea World. Like herding cats, as they say.

Morgan got to jump super high:

Maeve at the park in S.D.

The trip was somewhat emotional for me and Casey; the last time we drove down to San Diego it was for Casey's PTE surgery (five years ago this Oct 15th) and the circumstances were entirely different. We decided to pay a visit to UCSD Medical Center to say hello and thank you to the team there. Dr. Auger, one of the physicians who worked with us, was happy to see us and our kids and eager to hear how things are going for Casey now. It was sort of eerie for me to return to the hospital we'd spent so much time in--Casey didn't really remember it that much--and I will admit I was grateful that the player piano in the atrium was silent and I didn't have to hear Rhapsody in Blue in the hospital again. It felt good to have some closure on the whole event.

The rest of our time in San Diego was mostly spent hanging out on the beach digging holes, boogie boarding, and eating ice cream from the micro-creamery at the nearby pier. The house was about two blocks from the beach, so after breakfast we would pack up a snack and take the kids down to play in the sand and surf. One adult would stay behind to make lunch and then bring it down around noon, letting another adult or two go back to the house to nap the girls. When the girls woke up, we would switch again, letting another adult come home to start supper. At 5pm we would pack up the beach gear and hose the kids down, take them home and do baths and jammies before supper. We found that with four adults and five children, there was basically constant food prep and/or kitchen clean up. We had a great time and were sad to leave (and not just because we knew we had to drive all the way back to Redwood City).

Also on our agenda this summer has been a great highlight of each week: evening picnics at a local playground with APPen, our attachment parenting community. Each Thursday evening all summer, we hang out eating a picnic dinner and drinking wine while the kids run wild in a pack until it gets almost too dark to see, then we put on jammies and brush teeth at the park before coming home with already-sleeping children. The weather in Redwood City is perfect for this, as most of the summer is hot enough that you can comfortably stay at the park in shorts and t-shirts until the dusk sends you home. Only tonight did I notice that it's beginning to get dark earlier, signaling the wind-down of this fun event. Definitely something I will be scheduling again next summer.

Next up for us is a visit from Opa, Oma and uncle Andrew. Looking forward to taking them sailing, making pizza, possibly going on a bike ride, and taking them camping with APPen!

ALL ABOUT (MA)EVE

2009-08-04T00:01:00.000-07:00

Maeve is turning into a little person, now. She's ten months old, and she has begun to declare herself as "not just another Morgan." She got her first teeth, the bottom two, at eight months. Now she's working on the top two; one has come through and the other is on its way. With the addition of the new top tooth, she has already learned how to grind them together in a spine-chilling way. Maeve currently sleeps in the back bedroom with Papa, whose name she may occasionally consent to repeat if we say it to her and she's in the right mood. She's able to sleep long periods as long as she's snuggled next to Papa. Maeve nurses day and night still (which she calls "nah nah nah nah..."), and when she nurses she grabs my free hand and pushes it down toward her feet, and then places one foot in my hand, in a manner reminiscent of Harpo Marx casually hooking his thigh on someone's hand. Maeve is a confident crawler, as of about 8.5 months, and is now very good at pulling herself up on things.

Unlike her brother--who didn't eat solid food until he was about one--Maeve has let us know from about seven months that if we are all at the table eating and she is there with us SHE SHOULD BE EATING FOOD TOO. As you can see in the video, if she loses her grip on her food she can be quite vocal about her disappointment. Her first favorite food was asparagus, but really she'll eat pretty much anything within reach.

Morgan continues to adore and yet mistreat his baby sister. He loves to make her laugh, and of course he can make her laugh better than any of the rest of us. But, sometimes he'll walk past her on his way somewhere else and reach out an arm or leg to nonchalantly knock her over, hit-and-run style. He enjoys grabbing toys from her, but will usually bring her something else to play with if asked to. Lately, when he commits some misdeed against her, she cries at the injustice and throws him a scathing look, one that I like to imagine would be accompanied by a thought bubble over her head reading "Dude, WTF?" I predict that in the future, Maeve will be nobody's doormat.

Maeve has her own friends (though admittedly they are mostly the younger sisters of her brother's friends) with whom she spends a lot of happy time. Maeve is the youngest member of Sweetie Pies, the new off-shoot of Morgan's preschool co-op Sweet Peas. Sweetie Pies is a casual co-op with about six other babies; we take turns hosting once a week for several hours in the morning, which means I am getting some actual kid-free time, when it coincides with Morgan's co-op hours. (Yay!) Maeve's best buddies, Amelia and Isa, call her Mimi and Maymay, respectively. Maeve face just lights up when she sees them. Here is more video of Maeve doing her thing(s). Enjoy!

Gentle Discipline in Action

2009-07-31T14:55:00.000-07:00

This morning I had one of those parenting moments that make me feel competent and good about the parent-child relationship. I wanted to blog about it, not to brag about what an awesome parent I am, but to remind myself of the kind of parent I strive to be more often.

Morgan and I are in the shower. Morgan is playing with metal Matchbox cars, a Chevrolet hearse and a Citroen station wagon. He is banging the cars violently into the side of the tub.

"Morgan, can you please stop banging those cars on the tub?" I ask, irritated.

"No, they're flying up and diving into the water." The crashes continue.

"Can you please drive the cars gently, Morgan?" I rephrase. He gives no response. I think about why I want him to stop, and try to explain it to him in a way that will resonate with him. "I'm worried that the cars are going to break, or that they'll damage the tub. Can you drive them gently?"

"But, but...the drivers are diving in the water and they're going too fast to stop. Their brakes aren't very good," he explains.

At this point I'm really wanting the banging to stop, and I can also recognize that Morgan has a strong need for play. I pause for a moment to think, then I ask him, "Morgan, can you tell the drivers that I'm worried and ask if they can please drive more carefully? Maybe they need to take their cars to the shop if the brakes aren't working."

Morgan holds the cars in front of his face and says, "You guys have to stop banging on the tub. You're going to break if you don't stop!" Then, in a higher voice he responds for the cars: "Our brakes don't work! Where is the auto shop?" He resumes his game happily, driving the cars to the back of the tub to get work done on their brakes. I finish my shower without yelling, getting angry, or taking the cars away from Morgan. Everyone wins!

Bad Medicine

2009-07-30T14:23:00.001-07:00

Morgan and Sebastian are playing doctor. I am their patient, or as they put it: "You be the sick person. We'll work on you and make you better." I lie on the couch, moaning about my aching head. Morgan looks in my ear and tells me there's a lot of earwax in there. Sebastian gives me "herbs" to help my headache. When I complain that they taste yucky he tells me it's because they're Worm Flavor Herbs. Morgan uses forceps to "take out the blood." My head still hurts. The doctors consult.

Sebastian: "It looks like she's got a bad headache. We're going to have to cut her whole body open."

Morgan: "Oooh, can I do it?"

2009-07-22T14:51:00.000-07:00

A Secret Story by Morgan

2009-07-14T17:59:00.000-07:00

"Mama, come here. I have a secret story to tell you. Come here and I'll whisper it in your ear. One day, Tidoo and I went to the lemon tree. We found a magic lemon, and I could use it to turn Tidoo into a wind-up...a wind-up...a wind-up sushi!"

Children's Fairyland

2009-07-07T11:59:00.000-07:00

Over the holiday weekend Casey went for a sail with my dad while my mom and I took the kids to Fairyland, an Oakland landmark. Morgan was not as impressed as he would have been if he actually KNEW any of the fairytales represented, but he did like the big Dragon Slide a lot, and of course the train. They've improved the place so much since I was young: the play houses no longer reek of urine; Snow White and the seven dwarves have healed from their cigarette-inflicted burns; and the talking story boxes activated by Magic Key all work. It was fun to take Morgan to this place I used to love so much when I was a kid, and to see it with new eyes.

Pull his tongue, and the talking dragon welcomes you to Fairyland.

Maeve and Baba watch Morgan on Anansi's Magic Spider Web (see below).

Morgan on the ferris wheel, Anansi's Magic Spider Web.

To ride the Dragon Slide, you must be over four years old. Or, three and completely fearless.

Mama and Maeve watch Morgan on the carousel.

Kid-sized horses. No adult riders allowed. Fun!

Recent Photos

2009-07-07T11:14:00.000-07:00

Squishing himself into his play kitchen, just because he can.

Maevey Monster eats sand and strawberries on her first beach outing.

Morgan and a friend cleaning the dasher from the ice cream maker on the 4th of July. Notice the look of intense concentration on both of their faces.

The joy of homemade, hand-cranked ice cream.

Playing ukuleles together.

Grease Monkey

2009-07-01T11:12:00.000-07:00

"Papa, tell me about the engine."

"Okay. What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

DANCE-OFF!

2009-06-30T13:32:00.000-07:00

7yo Julian challenges Morgan to a dance-off!

Poor second child, with no blog posts of her own

2009-05-03T10:39:00.000-07:00

Bicycle! Bicycle!

2009-04-30T21:53:00.000-07:00

Well, we did it. We bought Morgan a new (second-hand) bicycle and he is in love. Here he is on his first full day with the bike. When he first got on, he wobbled a bit. Within 10 minutes he had figured out how to use the coaster brake. In the next hour he had lost most of the wobble, could start from a stand-still, and could ride standing up on the pedals. He rode for about four hours yesterday. Today he rode for five hours, with a break in the middle for his swim lesson. He was asleep very quickly tonight.

A Dream

2009-04-24T08:34:00.000-07:00

"Last night I dreamed about Mama and Maevey. They were swimming in a big lake, and Maevey was big enough to swim. She was using her Big Boy arms and her Big Boy kicks." Morgan Graeme, age 3y4m.

Our Big Dude

2009-04-23T21:44:00.001-07:00

Morgan has been riding his scooter a lot lately, because his wooden balance bike has a broken axle at the moment (which may or may not be fixable). Today at the park he rode his scooter while his friend Tobias, one year older, rode a bike. At some point Morgan asked Tobias if he could have a go on his bike. Morgan hopped on and promptly took off. No training wheels, no problem. He just started riding. It was so fun to watch the joy on his face as he rode around under his own steam on a pedal bike for the first time! I wished so much that Casey could have been there to see it. "I'm doing it! I'm doing it!!" he shouted as he passed me.

Since the premature (possible) demise of the beloved balance bike, Morgan has been begging us for a pedal bike. We've hedged, explaining over and over that we are not willing to get him one until he no longer has need of training wheels, that any bike we get him will not be equipped with them. Now we know that he actually can ride, we may just break down and find him a second-hand bike at a garage sale. I can't wait for Casey to see Morgan ride. When he does, I'll be sure to have the video camera handy. He'll make both his bicycle-loving grandpas Michael proud.

Finally! A New Post

2009-03-10T08:29:00.000-07:00

Ahhh...the sweet sound of sleeping children. Casey is not using his laptop tonight, for once, so I can finally blog. I was surprised to see that I hadn't done a single post in the month of February! That's because the only time I could possibly post is when Maeve is asleep, but since my computer is in the room where she sleeps if I type she invariably wakes up. Casey is currently working on bringing the old laptop back to life so that we can hang out together downstairs (where I have the luxury of not burning my eyes out in a dark room) and work.

Also the keg is located downstairs, so I don't have to keep walking up and down the stairs for beer. Yes, we have a "kegerator" now, with two taps: one for homemade fizzy water and one for beer (so far, not homemade). Beer on tap, at home? Danger, Will Robinson!

Morgan is up to all sorts of hijinks these days. Sometimes he is all three-year-old: melting down because I started to peel his satsuma for him, after he ASKED ME TO START PEELING HIS SATSUMA FOR HIM. Or throwing a minor fit because I walked downstairs in front of him instead of waiting for him. Or breaking down because his blankie won't lay perfectly flat. I don't know when that one started, but somewhere along the way he became fairly OCD about his blankies being perfectly flat and oriented just so against his chest.

Other times he seems more like a six-year-old: when asked if he'd like to have a glass of water, he might answer, "I'd love to!" He tries his hardest to understand this world we live in. "Mama, why do people call you on your phone? Is it because they want to ask you how's your baby doing?" He is getting to be pretty helpful around the house. No, really. He can put away groceries, put laundry into the washer or dryer and start either machine, and yesterday he chopped the asparagus for our supper all by himself. "With a sharp knife. With NO GROWNUP!"

And then there are the days Morgan is sixteen. *sigh* Lately he takes himself to the bathroom and shuts the door, telling us, "I need privacy." This is our cue to listen carefully for what is going on in there; the first time I decided he was probably okay to go by himself I walked in a few minutes later to him with a trail of toilet paper in his hand and a surprised look on his face. "There's poopoo everywhere!" he said in bewilderment. I will spare you the details of what followed. Morgan often listens to rock-n-roll so loud we have to close his bedroom door. He vigorously plays his "magic electric guitar" (a small toy guitar with an old computer cord attached so he can plug in, and a custom strap), jumping around and shouting out incomprehensible lyrics. With no clothes on. His current favorite, edging out the legendary Dan Zanes, is George's band The New Centuries. I really should ask George what those songs are about...

Maeve is in training to become Morgan's backup dancer. When she is standing with support on someone's lap she starts this funny little hip-swivel/booty-bump dance, with one leg buckling then straightening over and over. She seems to enjoy music, though she isn't as affected by it as Morgan was at the same age. When he was five months old, his crying would abruptly cease if I started singing to him. Maeve is not as comforted by song; clearly she is inferior. Just kidding.

She's working on her teeth, blowing drool bubbles at every opportunity. I wasn't really checking her gums much since I had so many false alarms with Morgan's first tooth. I really was expecting her to get her first tooth around the same age as he did, eight months. So I was surprised when my friend Becca looked in her mouth during a particularly fussy period and said to her, "Ouch! That tooth must really hurt!" Okay, the tooth is not actually out yet, but she has four swollen, white bumps on her gums. Like I did, she seems to be getting her eye teeth first. Little vampire. Now a week after Becca's comment, I can see that the bottom ones are close to coming through. Teething before Morgan; clearly she is superior.

Wanna know which child I love better?

Just kidding.

I'll never tell.

Pretend Play

2009-03-01T18:24:00.000-08:00

We are sitting in front of a nice fire on this rainy Sunday evening. We had an early supper and are now sipping hot cocoa and eating Casey's delicious saffron rolls. Morgan has bitten one end off, and is studying the remains. "It's like a snail," he says. "This is his eye, his antennae, this is his shell, and this [the raisin inside the curl] is his food inside his body. 'Hi, hi!'" he makes the snail talk to us in that high-pitched voice he's always used for such play. He goes on to tell us, "He can't drink hot cocoa, he would get hot cocoa all over him. So I have to drink the hot cocoa...but eventually, I'm going to eat him. 'Don't eat me!' But I need to eat you. 'Ouch, ouch!' I have sharp teeth for eating saffron rolls. 'Okay, you can eat me then.' I'm gonna eat you, that's gonna be okay."

Of another snail-saffron roll he asks, "What if you went on a train? I would eat you."

Life With Two

2009-01-21T20:04:00.000-08:00

Morgan is growing up whether we like it or not. He is three years old, and the honeymoon is pretty much over. When asked politely to refrain from stepping onto the stereo, he came back at me with "Mama, I've explained this to you already. The answer is 'NO.'" Hmm, wonder where he picked that up. Couldn't possibly have been from me.

Morgan would live in his jammies, as long as he could still have his guitar, and Dan Zanes playing on the stereo at all times. One of the main stumbling blocks of our days is the project of getting him into clothes. We cajole him out of his jammies, then we've got a nakey boy running wildly around the house trying to avoid being re-clothed. (Nakey is, after all, his true preferred state.) When we ask if he wants to go to the park, he denies it and says he just wants to play his guitar. One way we side-step the fight altogether is to put him to bed in clean clothes. We find it much easier to get him changed at night, so by doing this we only have to do the Get Dressed Shuffle once per day. We haven't yet figured out how to work a bath into the equation, what with the shortened day (see nap news below), but I'm okay with having a kid who only bathes once a week or so.

He has basically dropped his afternoon nap. This development came sooner than we had hoped, yet it has a silver lining: bedtime is usually 7:30 at the latest when he's had no nap, and he is out like a light. I'm talking under five minutes. This, compared to his standard 1.5-2 hours of bedtime "routine" (read: circus) for most of his life. Coupled with the fact that Maeve is still the Magical Sleeping Baby whose bedtime routine consists of laying her down on the bed at 7 and walking away, this means that Casey and I have time to *gasp* have a conversation with one another without an obnoxious guitar player serenading us in the background - or foreground, as the case may be. The drawback to this state of severely reduced nappage is that the moment Casey arrives home to make supper is the same moment Morgan chooses to go into full meltdown mode. I haven't figured out how to avoid this yet. (I know, I know...make sure he's not too hungry. That trick doesn't work.) Still, it has improved over time, as he used to go to DEFCON 1 at around 3 in the afternoon, making for a highly unpleasant afternoon. I've instituted a daily Quiet Time, in which I lay down with Maeve in my room and Morgan plays quietly in his room. Or more likely, yells down the hall for me to please bring him more cars or, failing that, "Peepee and poopoo!!" That one always works.

Big brother loves his baby. He often comments on how cute her clothes are, for some reason referring to any item of her clothing as a "dress." He can make her smile with almost anything he does. In the morning when he comes into our bed to nurse, the only thing that will get him to stop is when Maeve wakes and he scrambles over me to say good morning to her. Once when she took a particularly long nap, he began begging me to let him go wake her up because "I miss her, she's my buddy." Today at the park a friend watched Morgan loving Maeve up and asked him, "Do you love your baby sister?" His response was classic three-year-old: "I love to squish her!" Then he went back to playing with his friend Freya, using a large flat shovel as a peel to put tanbark "pizzas" in the oven on the end of the slide.

Maeve is becoming a tiny person. Like her brother once did, she enjoys flirting with herself in the mirror while sitting on the pot. She also started grabbing toys, particularly the ones on the tray of the Neglect-O-Matic swing. My own brothers have declared her to be a Linda B. clone, but friends have commented recently that she is beginning to look more and more like Morgan. Comparing her to photos of Morgan at roughly the same age reveals more than a passing resemblance:

(Morgan, 4.07.2006)

(Maeve with cousin - and fellow Goblina - Natalie, 1.04.2009)

(Morgan, 2.26.2006)

Yes, I'd say they're related somehow. Sort of like Casey and Beth.

INAUGURATION! or, Don't Let the Door Hit You...

2009-01-20T20:24:00.000-08:00

This morning when I woke up, I realized that listening to Barack Obama being sworn into office on the radio was not going to be as satisfying as I wanted it to be. I started immediately thinking about which of our friends have televisions, who would let us come over at 9 in the morning to watch the inauguration. This might sound funny to some, but I could only think of one friend who has a TV and would be at home watching. (The majority of our friends are, like us, TV-free households.) But if I had to pack up the kids and get there by 9, forget it. Plus I wanted to watch this with Casey, and he had to go to work before too long. Luckily I am somewhat addicted--against my better judgment--to Facebook, and that's where I discovered that CNN teamed up with FB to stream coverage and viewers' reactions on the internet. Thank you once again, Al Gore, for inventing the internet. So we fired up Casey's laptop and set it in a place of honor on the breakfast table, then proceeded to attempt to answer Morgan's many questions about the event, most important of which being, "Why can't I listen to Dan Zanes?? But, I want to play my guitar with Dan Zanes!"

I'll admit it, I got choked up seeing Obama and his wife merely getting ready to appear before the crowd. All right, I got choked up just seeing the crowd. I had to explain to Morgan that sometimes people cry when they're really happy. (Beth, how cool that you were actually there! I hope you didn't lose any digits to the extreme conditions in DC this morning.) I really wanted Obama to turn to Bush and say, "In your face, sucka! Don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out." I know that was maybe asking too much, though I noticed later on that CNN was carrying video of Bush's return to Texas with no sound. They couldn't spare anyone to actually cover that event, I guess.

Morgan enjoyed the spectacle more than I expected. He watched fairly intently and ate three bowls of cereal. He wondered why there were so many flags. He liked the canon fire. He was not as impressed as Casey and I were by Aretha Franklin's rhinestone-studded hat. While Itzhak Perlman and Yo Yo Ma were playing, he asked, "Why does that lady have a saxophone?" Casey and I asked which lady he meant, not having seen any saxophones ourselves. That lady? No. That one? No. "The lady in the brown shirt," he told us. When Dianne Feinstein reappeared to introduce the religious guy, Morgan pointed and said, "Her. In the brown shirt. She had a saxophone." Well, Casey and I must have completely missed that. "Maybe she borrowed it from Bill," Casey suggested. When the swearing-in was over and Casey packed up the computer to go to work, Morgan's first question was: "Can I have Let's Shake now?"

Later in the day while Maeve took a nap, Morgan and I set up a picnic lunch on a blanket in the bedroom and watched the parade. I thought it was going to start at 11:30 PST, but they were still eating lunch and listening to speeches. We watched as Feinstein, sounding for all the world like a saleslady on QVC, described the Lenox crystal bowls specially made for Obama and Biden. We watched as the politicians and hangers-on kibbitzed in the lobby. We watched as the cars lined up and idled for 15 minutes before actually parading. While we waited we ate guacamole and chips, apple slices, and sandwiches. For a special treat on a special day, I let Morgan have some chocolate-covered cranberries when the parade began and we saw President Obama's motorcade drive slowly past the cheering people on the parade route. Morgan was very happy. So was I, and I didn't even eat any chocolate.

When George W. Bush was inaugurated the first time, I was in San Francisco with friends protesting angrily. When he was inaugurated the second time, I was too depressed even to protest. Today I feel like things will, someday, be okay again. And I can't stop smiling.

Instant Karma

2009-01-06T20:48:00.001-08:00

Morgan kyped a peeled clove of garlic off the kitchen counter last night and chewed it up, then came running into the living room with tears in his eyes, clawing at his own face, jumping up and down moaning.

Apparently he does not care for raw garlic. (He said he thought it was onion. Like that would've been any better.)

Three Months

2009-01-04T10:14:00.000-08:00

Maeve is three months old today. She continues to be an easy-goer, sucking her thumb whenever she gets the chance. I'd give you her stats but I don't know them; her weight is somewhere north of 14.5 lbs. As requested by various extended family members, here are some recent photos of Maeve Casey.

Maeve with Oma Pam

Sweet nursing girl

Christmas eve photo op

Christmas morning, modeling new socks from Baba Michelle

Joyriding with big brother at the antique car museum

Morgan Graeme Turns Three

2008-12-26T18:20:00.000-08:00

Tonight we celebrated Morgan's third birthday with the paternal family. (All photos by Beth McMullen.)

Papa made his incredibly yummy pizza:

Beth and Nana made a beautiful and delicious cake for our train guy:

Happy cake-eater:

Morgan's new ukelele from Mama and Papa:

Bonus photo of Nana and Morgan in a little Christmas Eve snuggle:

2008-12-13T10:56:00.000-08:00

We've been keeping pretty busy here lately, partly by choice. I was beginning to feel like we've spent too many a weekend looking at one another and saying, "What should we do today?" and waiting for something fun to happen to us. So we decided it's up to us to make fun things happen. To this end, I've been putting my energy towards more community-building: I've hosted playgroups at our house; I volunteered to host an ongoing weekly park day for our Attachment Parenting community; we hosted a dinner party for some of Casey's college friends (which ended up being only one guest, but after the holidays we'll try again); Casey and I have attended gender-respective parents' nights out; and we visited a Christmas tree farm on the coast with a group of AP families. (The photo of Morgan on a tree stump below is from that trip.) Last night while Casey had a dads' night out we had a potluck moms' night in at our house, complete with bathtime, jammies and stories for the kids whose fathers were out together having dinner, playing pool and planning more APPeninsula camping trips.

In another time in my life, I wished I believed in *something* so that I could have the warm, welcoming sense of community some churches seem to create. In the past two years, as we've become more and more involved with our AP community, I feel we finally have that. We have cultivated our "tribe." I get choked up just talking to people about the amazing group of families we've been getting to know--parents who, like us, believe that children are worthy of respect and sensitive response to their needs, and who structure their family lives accordingly. When so much of your parenting choices are at odds with advice given by so-called experts, and so far out of the mainstream, it's refreshing to spend time with people who affirm rather than question (or even outright disparage) the things we do in the best interest of our children.

A few weekends ago we went to see Dan Zanes and Friends "Holiday House Party" in San Francisco with Baba and Jiji. It was so effing awesome to see all these parents and their kids jamming together with Dan and all his friends onstage. Dan Zanes is a hero, as my mom puts it. His greatest thrill, it seems, is to make music with his friends and family, which is very much in tune (no pun intended) with our beliefs. He also believes in peace and social justice, what a guy! He opened (and closed) the show by inviting the audience to sing "Welcome Table" with him. Now that put tears in a few eyes. We were wishing we had brought Morgan's little guitar for Dan to sign after the show, when the entire band and all the guest musicians trooped out to the lobby to meet the audience.

Tonight we're headed to a friend's house for an annual holiday gathering of weirdos of another sort: Rover People. Dormobile owners, to be exact. We'll sit around talking about how so-and-so bought a Series II restoration project, but it needs a new firewall and the blah blah blah... Our truck is currently partially dismantled, with the hope that it will be ready to take the kids camping this spring in the Mendocino National Forest. Tonight Casey is bringing to the party two loaves of his now nearly-perfected homemade bread. He recently purchased a grain mill so he can grind his own fresh flour, and he constantly studies bread blogs to figure out the best baking methods. He's been making a super yummy cranberry-walnut bread, an authentic sourdough rye, and my personal favorite, a parmesan-olive loaf. He brings two loaves to work each Tuesday. Coworkers often ask him to thank me for the bread and are very surprised when he says he made it, not me.

Maeve is growing fast, as you can probably see from the photos below. She learned to suck her thumb in the past two days, thus making her the World's Easiest Baby. Lay her down on the bed and she will wrestle her thumb--either one--into her mouth and close her eyes. I hear tell that I was like this too, as a baby. My mom reports that they could sit me down in my crib, put my blankie over my head, and I would just fall backwards and go to sleep. Maeve has not become attached to the blankies yet, but I think it's only a matter of time. She watches Morgan's every move, and he is in love with her too, constantly kissing her head and cooing to her. I know it's not going to be all roses, and many days I feel completely overwhelmed by the responsibility we've brought on ourselves, but sometimes I catch a bright little glimpse of the future and I'm so glad we gave them one another.

Next up: a trip to Pennsylvania for the holidays and Morgan's third (third!) birthday.

ALSO: My friend Dan Gianola-Norris found this after reading the post in which I mentioned Morgan telling me he was a UPS Spider. (O Google, how you have made our lives worth living again!)

2008-12-12T15:04:00.000-08:00

I Could Use an Embroidered Organic Ergo, Right?

2008-12-06T19:33:00.000-08:00

Win a Free Organic Embroidered Ergo Baby Carrier Hands Free System from Along for the Ride

Family Life: a Photo Essay by Morgan

2008-11-30T11:06:00.000-08:00

"Papa is playing my guitar."

"Did I take that picture? Papa, I took that picture. When I was a grown up I used to took that picture."

"Haha, that's 'Phonso and Tidoo."

"Papa's holding her."

"Morgan's falling down."

"Is that my room? That's my room."

"That's the baby crying. When was that?"

Language Development

2008-11-25T20:40:00.000-08:00

Morgan has lately been surprising us every day with some new skill or trick, usually around language learning. Seems like most of the past year has been devoted to physical skills and music development, but now he's moving on to language in a big way. These new skills don't seem particularly brilliant, but it's really fun and interesting to observe them developing. Some examples from recent weeks:

Driving in the car, we were listening to some fiddle music. Morgan came up with, "Mama, fiddle and fan both have [f] in them!"

Out to dinner with Baba, we walked by a restaurant in Palo Alto which had a sign out front, in 3-D block letters. Morgan began tracing the letters and calling them out as he touched them. What struck me about this is not that he was reading the sign (in fact he was incorrectly identifying each of them) but that he was calling out letters and not numbers. That much, he knew.

Leaving his swim lesson yesterday, he was chatting with me about a little girl named Katrina who has a lesson at the same time as him. Suddenly he said, "Ka-trina and tree both start with [tr]."

About a month ago we pulled into a parking spot next to a truck with Idaho plates. Morgan immediately asked me, "Why does that truck have Fs on it?" Indeed, the plates had FHF on them. A few months earlier he would have mistaken those Fs for Es.

Where he once identified anything that occurred in the past as happening "yesterday," he now tells me a story of past events and then informs me that it happened "a few whiles ago."

Casey attached one of those name license plates to the front of Morgan's bike. As he did this, they had a little conversation about the letters in Morgan's name. When they came back into the house, Morgan demonstrated some new knowledge by pointing out a [g] magnet on the fridge. About three days later, Morgan and I were at the park with the bike. As he leaned over the handle bars to look at the license plate, I asked him to identify the letters one by one, in random order and by pronunciation only. As in, "where's the [n]? what about the [r]?" He got all of them right, from upside down. This one really surprised me.

I mentioned in a previous post that Morgan is learning all sorts of caring and polite behavior through our modeling it for him. What many families refer to as "the magic words" (and which are usually only required of the children, but that's a whole 'nother post) are fast becoming second nature to Morgan not because we demand it, but simply because we are polite to him and to each other. Last night as he fell asleep and I carefully extricated myself from his bed, he mumbled in his half-sleep, "My blankie...I need my blankie please."

Yesterday he was talking to Maeve in his usual high pitch (he loves to say to her, "Hi, Sweetie!"). He stopped and said to me, "When I was little I used to call her 'Naethe.' But now I'm big and I call her Maeve!" In this case, "when he was little" was just a few minutes prior. This was in fact the first time I'd ever heard him pronounce her name correctly.

Morgan is still fairly obsessed with trains. (People--strangers--often ask in a knowing tone if he loves Thomas. A year ago I could honestly answer that he had no idea who Thomas was. I was proud to be the mama of one of the few two-year-old boys who would see another kid with a Thomas backpack/lunchbox/t-shirt/gun holster and say, "Look, it's That Blue Train!" But thanks to merchandising everywhere and kind strangers who will tell him the truth, he now knows who That Blue Train is. But, ha ha! the joke's on them, because he thinks all of those trains are called Thomas! My main beef with Thomas? Trains do not, in fact, have faces.) Once when I was feeding Maeve, he heard her chugging as the milk let down, and the proud older brother announced to me, "Maeve makes sounds like train noises when she's having Bibi!"

Other things he's said about his baby sister: "What does the baby smell like, Mama?" (I don't know, Morgan. What do you think she smells like?) "She smells like gum. Like gum that you chew and then SPIT OUT!" Upon seeing her dressed in a new outfit, he remarked offhandedly, "That's a nice shirt you got for my baby."

Morgan is very into pretend play these days. There's an empty cupboard in our kitchen which he has adopted as his place. It is referred to as his "car." Some days he moves a bunch of books into his car and delivers them to us (though we are often not Mama and Papa, but rather Rigel, or the dentist, or some other figure in his life) like a bookmobile. Sometimes it's his UPS truck and he delivers packages. Lately he's been emerging from his car to tell us "I'm a doctor. I'm doctor Panina [the urgent care doc who fixed his smashed finger a few months ago]." Tonight as I was lying in bed with him, waiting and waiting and waiting for him to go to sleep, he kept telling me, "I'm a UPS spider." Whatever that means.

Lastly, he's been sort of "directing" conversations, by telling us what we're supposed to say. Tonight when he saw some Christmas lights from his seat in the back of the car, he exclaimed "WOW!" Then he said, "Papa, you say: 'Morgan why did you say wow?'"

Maeve, for her part, is pleasant but to be honest not nearly as interesting as her brother. She is getting humongous, more than 12 pounds now at a mere 7 weeks. She is smiling quite a bit, which she started doing at about 5 weeks. Shortly after the smiles began, she started turning her head to follow the sound of our voices. She is quite good at EC, or else we are better at reading her signals than we were with Morgan. She will often fuss or grunt for a good several minutes before giving up and peeing on us (we keep her diaper-free at home--something we actually rarely did with Morgan--because she has had a terrible diaper rash since she was two days old).

Just in Time for "Buy Nothing" Day

2008-11-23T08:36:00.000-08:00

Morgan and Maeve are looking forward to spending Christmas with their East coast grandparents! I think the online wishlist was helpful last year, so I'm doing it again this year. You can see what Morgan's been begging us for right here. Maeve's list is here.

Election Day

2008-11-04T20:21:00.000-08:00

Woo hoo!

I hope that when Morgan and Maeve are voting age, our country has come far enough that they don't quite get why this is so exciting tonight.

One Month Old

2008-11-04T14:08:00.001-08:00

Went to our new pediatrician, Dr. Sonneman, today for Maeve's one-month well-baby visit. She now weighs 10 lbs 6 oz. Not really surprising since she's stopped doing that projectile spitup thing. She's gained more than four inches in length. Over the past two weeks she made the leap from 50th percentile to 85th percentile, across the board. While she was examining Maeve, Dr. Sonneman asked me, "Is she always so mellow like this?" Yep, pretty much. ('Course, Morgan was too, and now look at him.) Maeve has developed a small umbilical hernia, which is apparently totally common. Dr. Sonneman says the hole was probably always there, but when there is increased abdominal pressure as sometimes happens at this age, it turns into a hernia. It will heal on its own. It just makes her look like she's got a real outtie belly-button.

Dr. Sonneman predicted a major blowout poop for today...not sure why she predicts this, but as long as the elections turn out okay I figure I can deal with nearly anything. I had a nightmare last night that W was elected to a third term. I woke up in tears of fury. Seriously.

Maeve giggles in her sleep. The first time it happened I thought she was crying. But then she did it again, and when I looked at her face she was smiling. I don't know what she thinks is so funny, but she does it a lot. We'd love to get it on video except there's no predicting when it will happen.

We broke down and got some girlie clothes for her. And a strange thing happened when I dressed her in a purple fleecy outfit sent by Oma and Opa: I suddenly thought, "Oh man, she is so cute!" I mean, of course I already thought she was pretty perfect, she's my baby. But when I saw her in that color, I realized for the first time she's my baby girl. I don't have any idea where this behavior came from. You all know me, right? I'm not particularly girlie myself, yet something in me felt that things were Right and Complete when I dressed my daughter in clothes designed for a girl. Go figure.

So far we're still resisting pink, though.

Halloween 2008

2008-10-31T22:08:00.001-07:00

This year we thought we would have to be up-front with Morgan about the candy he collects while trick-or-treating versus the candy we will actually let him eat. But after hitting up a few houses it became clear that it would be simplest just to repeat last year's deception. He kept asking to eat the treats, even though I had explained at length (for several weeks running now) that we would be making a trade once we got home. So instead, as we drove home I surreptitiously dumped out the corn syrup and artificial colorings, replacing them with an obscene amount of unrefined sugars and fruit-juice sweetened goodies. Like last year, he was happy as a clam with what he got, and so far as we can tell he is none the wiser.

The kids' costumes were quite a hit, although somehow people kept thinking Morgan was a girl, and assuming because of the brown hat that Maeve was a boy. Special thanks to Baba, for overriding my skepticism on the baggy-wrinkle squirrel tail.

Morgan as a squirrel with Maeve in acorn hat

Squirrel feeling peckish

Acorn hat

This year's haul

Are You Happy Now, Tisa?

2008-10-29T22:47:00.000-07:00

Ob La Di, Ob La Da...

2008-10-28T14:54:00.000-07:00

Well, here we are with two kids. TWO KIDS. I can hardly believe it. And I'm betting those of you who are pining for photos of the newest addition can really hardly believe it. At some point, between the nursing and the diapers and the never-ending laundry and the swim lessons and the book-reading and the dishwashing and the answering of the question "why?" and the...well, we'll take some photos some day.

Casey went back to work this week, finally. Morgan had to adjust first to having Casey here all the time, and Mama being pretty much unavailable; now he's adjusting to Casey being gone again. He keeps asking me at random times throughout the day, "Is Papa home now?" It was so nice to have him home for so long, and since my recovery from the birth was unexpectedly slow we are really lucky he was able to take so much time. We do miss him.

Today I ventured out with both kids to take Morgan to his very first dental appointment. He was pretty shy and would not answer questions from the staff which he normally offers to complete strangers with no provocation whatsoever, such as "What's your name?" and "How old are you?" The visit was a bit overwhelming, though, I admit. They gave Morgan stickers and put a bunch more stickers in his personalized My First Visit to the Dentist book. Then they gave him the usual swag, floss and a new toothbrush decorated with licensed characters, ugh...Diego for boys, Dora for girls, of course. The dentist, Dr. Nick ("Hi, Doctor Nick!") gave Morgan a pair of orange sunglasses to protect his eyes from the light during the checkup. And then, when he was done getting his teeth "counted" there was more! They had a basket of toys and he was told to pick out a present from Dr. Nick. Morgan chose a small blackboard and chalk set. (Interesting that he chose one of the few toys available that did not have characters on it. I guess we've done okay so far, resisting the consumer culture that surrounds our children.) He also got to pick yet another sticker, because "Morgan is such a good boy!" and a pencil. Morgan chose a pink Disney princess pencil. That's my boy.

Dr. Nick says Morgan's teeth look great, but we should be flossing. Riiight. We'll just add that to the short list of things we have to get done each day. Piece of cake. He also said that our area has no fluoride in the water (which is great as far as I'm concerned) and he could write a prescription for fluoride drops for Morgan. Big points for Dr. Nick, though, when he not only knew what xylitol is, but went a step beyond and said we needn't use fluoride if we're using xylitol toothpaste.

Now for news of the little one: Maeve (rhymes with "brave") is growing quickly. She regained her birthweight by four days and continues to pack on the ounces. Morgan often insists her name is Knave, not Maeve. She has so far retained the dark hair she was born with, but we fully expect it to fall out in a couple months and come back in blond like Morgan's did. She sleeps all the time still, but when she does wake she is beginning to be slightly interactive. She holds eye contact well and is usually pretty calm. She sucks her left thumb quite well. She totally uses the potty like a champ--ohhh yes, we're doing that potty thing again. She also hates the car, just like her big brother did at that age. On Sunday she screamed the ENTIRE WAY HOME from Oakland to Redwood City.

If you haven't guessed from the length of this post, both kids are napping right now. At the same time. I am the best. mother. ever. I know, right?

Retraction

2008-10-09T19:58:00.000-07:00

We sort of forgot, in the haze of the birth, that we had discussed naming the baby after her Papa. As of this morning, the baby's name is Maeve Casey McMullen. (Hope nobody bought her monogrammed blankies yet.)

Introducing Maeve Eileen Casey

2008-10-07T10:14:00.000-07:00

At 11:38pm on Saturday, October 4, we were pleased to finally meet Maeve ~~Eileen~~ Casey McMullen! Weighing in at 7 lbs 1 oz, and 20 inches, she was born at home into the loving arms of her family. Papa and big brother Morgan cut the cord together. The birth was amazing and intense, and Mama and baby are both recovering quickly.

Morgan likes to talk to Maeve in a high-pitched voice and give her lots of kisses. Immediately after the birth, he said to us, "I'm going to take the baby into my room now, okay?"

I'm a sucker for a punny guy

2008-09-29T07:39:00.001-07:00

Last night as we settled into bed with our books, Casey said to me, "Time to read about cowboy babies."

"Hmm?"

He flashed the cover of his book, The Birth Partner, at me. "The Birth, Pardner." I chuckled and turned back to my months-old Atlantic.

"What, are they born with a piece of straw between their teeth?" I joked.

"No, but the spurs are a bitch on the way out," he responded.

Birthday

2008-09-27T08:02:00.000-07:00

Friday was my 32nd birthday, and to celebrate my family came from Oakland with Zachary's pizza. Beth came too. We had beer, and cake and ice cream too. During dinner Julian, now six, randomly began chanting "Samurai Pie." We talked about what kind of pie that would be. Definitely not a dessert pie, I thought. Not sweet, probably more of a savory kind of thing. Casey showed himself once again to be one of the family for sure, immediately correcting me: "You mean, saber-y?"

At some point during the evening, my brother Jeffrey must have found himself alone in the kitchen. After everyone left that night I noticed that he had added a meal to the list I usually write up on the dry-erase board. I had only planned up to Thursday, and he filled in with "F: Samurai Pie." I laughed when I saw it and left it up until I was ready to plan next week's meals. When I tried to erase the previous week's meals, though, I discovered that he had written it using not a dry erase marker, but the permanent Sharpie perched atop the board in an effort to keep it out of the reach of a certain two-year-old who lives here.

So, thanks to Jeffrey, we will now be eating Samurai Pie every Friday. Which is convenient, since Fridays are homemade pizza night at our house anyway. We'll just have a new family code-word for pizza from now on.

What a Difference a Day Makes

2008-09-21T20:32:00.000-07:00

We decided that Morgan needed a haircut that would last him through the next few months during which we will be completely ignoring him and focusing solely on his new sibling, in an effort to drive him to the analyst's couch as early as possible. In other words, we think it will be too much effort to get him a haircut as often as he seems to need one, so we decided to cut all his hair off. We're still sort of reeling from the results:

Here he is enjoying his SECOND-EVER LOLLIPOP ever so much. The nice lady at the haircut place handed him the basket of lollies without asking me first, and I thought it might be a tad overdramatic to jump in between them yelling "NOOOOO!" in slow motion and slap them away before he could pick one. So we came home and explained that he could trade his yucky high-fructose-corn-syrup-and-red-no.5 sucker for a yummy, organic, real-sugar one. Yes, we are *that* crunchy.

For a little contrast to the above photo, here is one taken just one day ago...of Morgan's twin sister.

Photos, Finally

2008-09-05T20:27:00.000-07:00

I thought I had uploaded and shared photos from...um...the past nine months. As it turns out, I forgot to share them, partly because the editing process takes me so long. The two sets I just shared are less heavily edited than usual, but I kind of figured you'd rather see too many pictures than none at all. So here they are.

We've been taking far fewer photos than previously because Beth's new camera makes ours look like it was the prize from a Cracker Jack box. And, uh, actual photographers have skills. So lately we've been deferring to her as primary chronicler of our lives, but we are aware that that will have to change once v2.0 arrives.

Comfort

2008-09-05T19:59:00.000-07:00

I feel lousy. I'm sick with a sore throat and runny nose, and it's been in the high nineties here in beautiful Redwood City (you know, "climate best by government test") and I am approximately eight months pregnant. Not the nicest combination. So as I was washing dishes tonight in my very own Hell's Kitchen, I sort of lost it when the mozzarella would just not come off the bowl I had already washed four times in scalding water. "Dammit!" I yelled.

"What did you say dammit about, Mama?" Morgan came running into the kitchen to check on me, followed by Casey. I mumbled something about being frustrated, then put my head down on the edge of the sink and began crying. Morgan put his arms around my leg while I sobbed.

"I just feel so tired and hot and..."

"Are you okay, Mama?" asked a little voice at my side. I picked him up and hugged him. "I love you, Mama. It's okay." Of course this made me cry more.

Casey and I didn't teach Morgan to do this. Modeling the behavior we want to see really, truly does work. (I mean the caring, not the swearing. Though apparently, that works too.)

Hard of Hearing

2008-08-28T20:44:00.000-07:00

Morgan has entered yet another typical kid phase: the hard of hearing phase. Casey and I remember distinctly when Julian was going through this. Anything directed at him would elicit a distracted "Huh?" It was very annoying. And we didn't even live with him.

Now Morgan has entered the same phase, but his catch phrase is "what did you say?" You say something to him, and he almost automatically asks, "What did you say?" Not once. Not twice. On average he will ask this three times in a row. "Average" meaning sometimes he asks it four or five times. Some days, like today, nearly everything I say to him all. day. long. gets this response. Tonight after supper he asked me something, and as I was trying to reply he kept interrupting me to ask, "What did you say?" I lost it and shouted the answer at him.

"Don't shout at him," Casey said. I yelled at him too.

Later, as Morgan and Casey were bringing books into the bedroom and getting jammies on, I picked Morgan up and kissed him. "I'm sorry I yelled at you in the kitchen tonight. I shouldn't have yelled at you, and I'm sorry."

"What did you say, Mama?"

The Performer

2008-08-21T21:30:00.000-07:00

Morgan likes to give little performances with his guitar (previously referred to as his "agootar"). We have these two upholstered brown storage cubes in our living room, and he asks his audience "Do you want to sit on the big brown thing, and I'll sit on the little brown thing?" and then you know you're in for a treat. You might get a rousing rendition of "Jelly Man Kelly," or a quiet, thoughtful yet nondescript humming song.

Tonight before his performance he gave a short pre-concert talk. "Mama, is the 'ppointment I do?" Um, well...I don't know the answer to that question. "I'll let you know if I play too loud, and you can cover your ears." Thanks for the warning, kid.

Conversations

2008-08-15T14:14:00.001-07:00

2.5 yo: "Mama, can you play a game with me?"

Mama: "Sure, what game would you like to play?"

2.5 yo: "Chess."

Mama: "You don't have a chess set, Morgan."

2.5 yo: "..."

Mama: "How do you know about chess?"

2.5 yo: "Where my chess set go, Mama?"

-----------

Mama: "Where would you like to go this afternoon, Morgan? Do you want to go to the park?"

2.5 yo: "No, I want to go to, um...the chiropractor."

-----------

2.5 yo, hanging from Mama's arm: "I like to swing like this."

Mama: "Please don't do that. It hurts my back and my shoulder."

2.5 yo: "Baba and Jiji don't usually have a baby in their bellies, that's why I swing like that at their house."

-----------

Mama: "What was your favorite thing that happened today?"

2.5 yo: "My favorite thing today was I hit the ball with the baseball racket. I pitched it to the guy and I said 'beep beep.' Maybe I said something else to him. I don't know."

2.5 Going On 14

2008-07-21T17:58:00.000-07:00

We're in Los Angeles for a wedding, sharing a vacation house with Morgan's paternal grandparents Oma and Opa, and his maternal grandparents Nana and JoePa, plus auntie Beth. (Uncle George was here over the weekend, but had to return to SF ahead of us.) The highlight of this vacation for Morgan is, without doubt, the hot tub. He refuses to get in the swimming pool because it's too cold, but would spend hours at a time in the hot tub if we let him. The tub is a measly 99 degrees or so, stretching the term "hot tub" to its outermost limits.

This evening we're hanging out in the tub with Morgan after a hot day at the LA Zoo. He has several small rubber snakes we bought him at the gift shop--he saw them early on in our visit and kept talking about them throughout the day, so we got them. He's been throwing them despite our requests that he not, and so they are out on the deck having a rest. He asks for the blue one, and I say to him, "The snakes are having a rest because you were throwing them. They're not balls, so we don't throw them." I go into some detail on this point, when Morgan interrupts me with this little gem:

"Mama, the point is, I want the blue snake."

I can't think of a snappy title. Just read the post.

2008-07-11T08:15:00.000-07:00

We've had an exciting few weeks here at Chez McMullen. We recently bought a new-to-us minivan, about which my sister-in-law Kathy has reportedly said "Now all they need is juice boxes and a giant carton of Goldfish crackers." *Ouch!* I would argue, though, that Kathy has not experienced the wonder and luxury of Hal, a 2005 Spacious Odyssey. We love him. (Although I will admit that when I drove Nadine the other day after a week of living it up in Hal, it was like driving a sports car, by comparison.) Morgan likes to explore all the new buttons and ALL THOSE SEATS quite thoroughly before he will consent to climb into his own carseat.

A few weeks ago Morgan started attending "SP," the parent-run preschool co-op we've joined. It's taken some time for him to figure out how it works, that each day he attends it's held at a different parent's home. To make things even more confusing, we hosted at our own house for the first time last Monday. The short version of how it went: utter chaos. The longer version involves all six children scattering to the four winds amongst the maze of townhouses and the hired caregiver returning inside with her arms held up in surrender saying (and I quote) "They're gone. I don't know where they went." As my good friend Alice would say, "Aaii-ah!"

The long version also includes an incident in which Morgan was struck in the face by another child (not so horrible, really) whose fingernail by chance got into Morgan's eye, scratching directly across the lens and causing Morgan to scream in pain off and on for the next 24 hours (pretty terrible, truly). We took him to the pediatrician, who referred us to an eye specialist. When we returned for a follow-up the next day she reported that his eye was about 90% healed already. Everything turned out fine, but man what a day that Monday was.

Other random things to comment on: Morgan has begun to "practice" songs he'd like to be able to sing. He's heavily into the Beatles right now, and asks for several songs on the Rubber Soul album over and over and over and...then suddenly I hear a little voice from the back seat singing along, even to the guitar solos. He did this at the park one day a few weeks ago, too. When we went to watch the action at the music truck--still a major draw for him despite assurances that he will never taste its wares--he asked me to sing the song (Turkey in the Straw). I sang along a few times and Morgan said, "I don't know how to sing it." He edged closer to the truck with his back to me, and I thought he was just studying the pictures of ice cream in case I was suddenly struck dead and he might be allowed to buy one. But then I noticed his body moving, ever-so-slightly, to the beat. As the truck drove away, he came back toward me and I could hear him singing quietly along with the song. "I know how to sing it, Mama!" he shouted with pride.

As wonderful as life with Morgan is, we've been going through a rough patch with him lately. I think it's mostly due to the fact that my low back has been out for more than a month now, and I've had to tell him I can't do things he really wants/needs me to do. I can't count the number of times per day that I have to say, "I'm sorry Morgan, I can't [fill in the blank with any highly physical activity typical of a two-year-old] because my back hurts." He's a fairly perceptive little guy and I'm sure it's not lost on him that having a baby in my belly is the cause of all this. Of course this all contributes to my over-emotional (i.e. pregnant) state in which I am processing the grief of losing my Little Only by bringing another child into the picture. As each day draws to a close I feel sorrow at how unloving the day felt, thinking over all the different interactions with Morgan during which I could have met his needs with a little creativity on my part, but because my fuse is shortened by near-constant back pain and a lack of quality sleep I instead lost it and yelled and had mean thoughts of how Morgan deserved some punishment for his "disobedience."

(When I yell at Morgan he throws it back to me immediately, instant Karma if you will. I shout "STOP!" and he yells "NOOOO!" This is so unlike him, normally. He's not a kid who throws tantrums.)

The good news, though, is this: Casey and I constantly strive toward mindful, respectful parenting. We know enough to see that punishment, anger, and yelling are only making things worse. We have the choice to begin each day with renewed efforts to see things from Morgan's point of view and to meet his needs, thus heading off the "defiance" which is really just his natural attempt at some semblance of control in his life in which he truly has very little choice over most things; and a call for us to give him the one thing we can choose each day to give freely and happily: our loving attention.

2008-06-16T19:36:00.000-07:00

Some humorous things Morgan has said lately...

Upon arriving at the park I'd been talking up all day: "Mama, is this Eagle Park? Not Vulture Park?"

"Mary had a big lamb, big piggy lamb, piggy lamb!" Then he asked to hear "Piggies" by The Beatles.

In response to Casey's attempts to get him to sit on the new potty seat we bought in an effort to save my back the pain of holding him over the toilet: "No potty seat, Papa! You don't have a baby in your belly!!"

We bought Morgan a Razor scooter with red wheels and when I told him that Beth has one just like his that she named Dorothy -- ruby shoes, you know -- he said, "My scooter's name is Bethy." When the music truck arrived at the park, he told me "Bethy" wanted to get ice cream. I said no (of course) so he bent down to explain to the scooter, in his typical high pitch used for speaking to babies and inanimate objects, that we don't eat ice cream from the music truck.

About cousin Julian who is visiting his other Baba and Jiji in Sapporo: "Julian is in My Pan."

Wanna Hear Something Funny?

2008-06-16T19:30:00.000-07:00

Casey and I forgot about something over the weekend. It would have gone completely unnoticed, too, except that today I opened the mail box and found three cards from Casey's family. As they were addressed to both of us, I opened them.

"Happy Anniversary," they read. Uh...yeah. That would be four years now, wouldn't it.

(Thanks for the anniversary wishes, folks! Can we blame this one on pregnancy brain?)

He's Smart, but Not That Smart

2008-06-03T07:12:00.005-07:00

We're enjoying ourselves at a birthday party for the two-year-old son of some friends. A newly arrived guest makes the rounds, introducing himself as Adam. He squats down next to Morgan, who is playing happily on the floor across the room from us.

"And what's your name?" Adam asks him.

"Morgan!" Morgan replies.

Adam pauses, then follows up with, "How do you spell that?"

Quick Update

2008-06-01T13:18:00.000-07:00

So very very little time to do anything these days, and admittedly blogging is fairly low down on the list. But Morgan is asleep and I've got a few minutes until I have to go pick up my cousin David from a leadership seminar he attended this weekend in a nearby town.

We've moved into our new townhouse and are slowly but surely getting settled in. Morgan seems to have had no trouble getting accustomed to the new surroundings, and loves to tell us when he is going up the stairs or down. He and Casey now share a bed in the second bedroom, which leaves me by myself in the Great Big King-sized bed in the master suite. I have mixed feelings about this arrangement. On the one hand, it's a good idea to have Morgan in his own bed (albeit one shared with Papa) before Version 2.0 arrives to start taking up space in my bed. On the other hand, I miss my family! It's pretty nice to be able to stretch out and take up as much space as my ever-bigger belly wants, but when I wake up in morning there's no small warm body snuggling next to me. Also, my room is haunted with ghosts who like to turn on the lights or the ceiling fan at odd hours. Okay, so it could be a neighbor's garage-door opener or something like that, but it's still creepy to wake up to a slowly revolving fan at 3am.

We have so much space now -- we've about doubled our living quarters -- that we have about three closets with next to nothing in them. Some of our kitchen cupboards are still empty. We can now walk around our bed(s!) without squeezing past some other piece of furniture. Nice. Today Casey is moving the Dormie to her new home in the garage. I've shot a video tour of the new place, and as soon as I can find time to figure out how to post it here, I will.

One of the best things about our new set-up is NO HEINOUS NEIGHBORS UPSTAIRS. We do have neighbors on one side of us, but we have yet to hear boo from them.

In other news, Version 2.0 is now halfway baked; I'm at 21 weeks today. S/he is extremely active, much like Morgan was in utero. When I'm lying down with Morgan at night to put him to sleep, he kicks me from the outside while 2.0 does aerobics inside my belly. I've become fully cognisant of the fact that Casey and I are about to be evenly numbered by the goblins in our midst. Of course, energy-wise, we're already pretty much outstripped by Morgan alone. Lucky for us, he'll be starting a co-op preschool at the end of June with families from our Attachment Parenting community which means that I'll have two mornings per week, aside from those when I host it at our house, to myself. And Morgan will have a great time playing and learning with the other kids, and running off some of that energy of his.

New Digs and Neglected News

2008-05-16T07:16:00.000-07:00

Alright, I take back some of the bitterness in my previous post about housing in our area. Sure, housing is still craptastically overpriced, but we did manage to find ourselves a place to live. It's a townhouse, an end unit with two floors. It has new Pergo flooring in the living room and new tile in the kitchen and half-bath. Upstairs it has Pergo in the hall and the two large bedrooms are carpeted. I think the upstairs bathrooms -- two of them! -- are tiled, but I can't recall. My favorite part? The new washer and dryer in the laundry closet off the kitchen. Yes, I know I'm sick. I just can't wait to throw a load in! Still no yard, and only a small garage in which to work on the Dormie, but we'll take what we can get.

Anyway, we are up to our eyeballs in the details of moving across town next weekend.

And before I forget (again), in response to Boatbaby's comment on "Bitter" : Although this blog will remain under its original name, we are no longer the owners of the beautiful sailing vessel Liza Jane. We closed the sale last month and she is now happily owned by a couple who have moved her to, of all places, the very same dock in the East Bay at which my parents keep their Tayana 37, Nomi. Fair winds, Liza Jane. Have fun out there.

Why?

2008-05-05T07:04:00.000-07:00

Just wanted to mark the time when, at 28 months old, Morgan has begun asking "why?" about everything. We knew this day would come, but it sort of snuck up on us. Suddenly we have this little boy who, when asked to sit down at the table, asks, "Why?" Because we're going to eat supper. "Why?" Because we're hungry. "Why?" Our bodies need food to feel good. "Why?"

You get the idea.

We had this sort of conversation yesterday regarding the "music truck," so now Morgan knows that our family doesn't eat treats from the music truck because they have chemicals in them that make our bodies feel sick. Why? Because they're not really food.

I'm looking forward to the questions we'll get about the new baby. "Hold on a minute here...you guys decided to have another baby why?"

Bitter

2008-05-02T07:44:00.000-07:00

I apologize for the pause. We've been busy, stressed out, and busy being stressed out. We're coming along with Version 2.0, and I can feel the baby moving every once in a while. It's funny how much less time I have to sit around thinking about this babe. Names... Oh, there's time for that after the baby's born, right?

Anyway, we've been trying to find a house to rent, with little luck. We found one house in a great neighborhood with a huge back yard, and walking distance to a wonderful park. We didn't get it.

I wish that renting was like buying food. I want to see a place we like, say "We'll take it," and be done with it. Instead we have to put in our application and wait until the renter decides who is the lucky winner, and it's not us. I know the country is supposedly in a "housing crisis," but this is sadly not the case in our area. Rents are sky-high here, and NO we're not buying. The rest of America may be in a buyer's market, but housing prices around Silicon Valley are still ridiculously inflated--Thank You, Google and Yahoo!--and even if we had a down payment you can't get a crummy little two-bedroom in a lousy neighborhood for less than $600,000. Yes, all of you living in places other than the coasts, you read that right.

So we lost out on our dream house complete with Orange-sherbet-colored kitchen (what year did that go in?) and fruit trees in the yard, and as it turns out, we can't actually afford to rent a house, because that house was for some reason very inexpensive. Add $4,000 more per month and maybe we could rent something comparable.

So here we are, running up against the reality that we are among the first American generation to be doing worse than our parents. Having grown up in places where we could go outside as we pleased and ride our bikes around the neighborhood all day, we're sad that our own child lives in a neighborhood where we don't even feel comfortable taking him out for a highly supervised tricycle ride, because in our cul-de-sac, our building is surrounded by driveways where our neighbors zoom in and out without regard to small people on foot-powered vehicles. Want to go to the park? Hop in the car. Want to go to the library? Climb in your carseat. Want to go for a walk? We'll drive somewhere suitable.

We're just living the dream out here in sunny California.

Peers

2008-04-17T07:39:00.000-07:00

Our local playground is plagued by frequent visits from a predatory ice cream truck peddling brightly-colored chemicals and high-fructose corn syrup. We've always called it "the music truck." There is no way Morgan will ever be tasting their wares. Ever since we moved to this area and began going to this park on a regular basis, Morgan has shown great interest in the music truck. At first he just loved the music, and would dance wildly when he heard it. He asked what the song was, and when we told him it was "Turkey in the Straw" he would request we sing it to him. As he got older, he wanted to see the music up close. Firm in our convictions that we would not buy him any junk, we let him venture closer and closer.

About two months ago he started noticing that the kids lined up at the truck were getting "treats," but that was the extent of his discovery. I told him simply and truthfully that we don't eat those kind of things.

But, a few days ago after watching the interactions at the truck, he came running back to me and asked, "Can I have ice cream from the music truck?" Keep in mind that this is a child who has never tasted ice cream of any sort in his life (right, Baba??). I was surprised enough that my honest reaction was "Wha?"

"Can I have music from the... can I have music... can I get a mus..." He seemed to have lost his thought, and he quickly moved on. We wandered over to a friend to say hi. Morgan sat down at the edge of the play area to eat a peanut butter sandwich. He watched as a boy of about 9, wearing a green shirt, sat on the play structure to eat his neon "ice cream." After a moment Morgan told me, "I'm gonna go say hi to that green kid." I know it was motivated by the green kid's ice cream consumption, but this was the first time Morgan had ever done something like this and having a been a painfully shy child myself, I was not about to keep him from initiating a conversation with another child in the park. He ambled over and said hi. The green kid looked nervous as Morgan stared at him, but finally he waved a couple times and Morgan seemed satisfied with the interaction.

Yesterday while playing at the water spigot (part of the park's water feature, with a fountain and trough) he helped other children who weren't big enough to push the button themselves fill their buckets. When he had his hands full and a bigger kid was standing at the spigot, he asked, "Can you push the button for me?" Then by way of small talk, he added, "Do you watch airplanes fly?"

I was so proud to see Morgan interacting with other kids this way, partly because I was so lousy at this sort of thing for most of my own childhood. But another part of it was this thing that's been bothering me for a while now when we're at the park: it seems like the kids mostly don't know how to interact with one another. Last week (again at the water feature) a girl who looked to be about 7 was filling her bucket from the spigot. Morgan kept bringing handfuls of sand to wash away under the spray, which of course then fell into this girl's bucket. Every time he did this, she would give an exasperated sigh and dump her bucket out to start again. Eventually she started looking around for a parent to help, but I was purposefully keeping out of it. Finally she began pushing him away from her and I decided to step in.

"You could tell him you don't want him to do that," I said to her, after explaining to him that she didn't want sand in her bucket. "I did!" she said, though she had done nothing of the sort. I feel like I spend a lot of my day helping Morgan learn to acceptably express what he wants or needs, and I get discouraged when we see a child three times his age not able to tell him a simple "don't do that." I see it again and again, and I'm not talking about children who aren't talking yet. I'm talking about children perfectly capable of begging a parent quite eloquently for ice cream, who yet seem unable to say to their peers, "I want a turn." I wonder if this is the result of too much intervention and mediation from parents. If we don't allow children to work things out by themselves (unless of course someone is going to be injured) will they learn to talk to each other? How can we expect sharing and cooperation--something you hear parents constantly exhorting their children to do at the park, usually under threat of going home early for non-compliance--if we don't allow them to try it themselves?

How Did That Happen?

2008-04-08T08:03:00.000-07:00

Suddenly we live with a small person, no longer a baby. This morning while I was in the shower, Morgan walked into the bathroom and asked, "Mama, can we get a new red mini car because my orange mini car is broken?" He's apparently just now noticed that his orange mini car is what we've been delicately calling "extremely custom." It's been this way for the better part of a year.

Later I asked Casey if he had suggested buying a new mini car. No, he said, Morgan came up with that on his own. And actually, the original request went like this: "Papa, can we go to the toy store and get a new red mini car? Because my orange mini car is broken."

In the mornings, we drop Casey off at Pixim. He kisses Morgan goodbye, and Morgan tells him, "Have a nice day, Papa." Then Casey gives me a kiss and we part ways. When I got back in the car a few mornings ago, Morgan asked, "Did Papa give you a kiss? That was nice."

When we pick Casey up from work, he climbs in the back seat to sit with Morgan. They have what sound more and more like real conversations at these moments. After initial hellos, Morgan asks Casey, "How was your day, Papa?"

"Pretty good," Casey usually answers. "How was yours?"

"Pretty good," Morgan answers back. And they go on to talk about what happened during the day. Often Morgan will start fabricating events at this point, perhaps things he wishes had happened. Sometimes he says we saw friends at the park who in fact were not at the park that day. Today he told Casey that he got a new train book (which is true). Where did you get it? Casey asked. "At the haircut place," Morgan invented. I shook my head from the front seat. When pressed for a different answer, Morgan admitted, "Uh, we got it at the robbery." You know, that place where you can check out books with your robbery card and take them home for three weeks.

Patterns

2008-04-02T07:20:00.000-07:00

Every time we listen to "Marching and Drumming," which is Music Together's version of "When Johnny Comes Marching Home," Morgan asks me to stop the music. It's not because he doesn't like the song.

"Can you turn off the music please, Mama? I need to sing." Then he proceeds to sing the ABC song, twice through. When he's done, he asks me to turn the music back on. After the song is over, there are tonal patterns (patterns of notes that loosely follow the contour of the song, to reinforce the tones of the song without the added distraction of rhythm or lyrics). As the tonal patterns play, Morgan will request without fail, "Can I have Riddum In Da Head?" And then I search the iPod for "I've Got The Rhythm." (Do you remember this song? "Ding dong, I've got the rhythm in my head, ding dong, ding dong, ding dong, hot dog!")

He's been doing this little OCD act for several weeks now. I'm waiting for him to miss his cue, but so far he hasn't missed it once. Have I mentioned that we listen to Music Together songs all. the. time.

Easter Weekend

2008-03-23T20:25:00.001-07:00

We spent Easter weekend camping at Big Basin in the Santa Cruz mountains with Beth and George. Morgan had been asking all week as we planned for our trip, "Shall we go camping? Shall we sleep in a tent?" Once we were in our campsite, he romped around, jumping off logs and throwing a ball around.

On Saturday we dyed eggs. Morgan only cracked a few before he started heeding our warnings to lower them into the dye cups gently. On Sunday we set out an Easter basket for him with a stuffed rabbit, some toys and a few healthy "treats." Later on we "hid" the Easter eggs in plain view on the ground (he's only two, I figured we should make it easy for him this first time) and he gathered them all in his basket. Morgan had a grand time, and so did we, once I got over being freezing all night and all morning!

Morgan and Casey inside a Giant Redwood

checking out his Easter haul

holding hands and napping with Tidoo (taken through a tent screen)

News From the Homefront

2008-03-11T07:50:00.000-07:00

In McMullen Family general news: My pregnancy with Version 2.0 is in its 10th week now. We're hoping the near-constant nausea won't last too much longer. Last week I had my first appointment with Dr. Rydfors, my OB. He did an ultrasound and to my surprise I could make out a head, arms and legs! (My first ultrasound with Morgan, he just looked like a bean with a blinking heartbeat.) I'll be seeing Dr. Rydfors three or four more times before the baby is born, but the majority of my prenatal care will be from Ronnie, our midwife. I had my first appointment with her today, and instead of the 15-20 minutes you get as an OB patient, our meeting lasted over two hours! Morgan was getting a bit antsy toward the end, wanting to go play with Ronnie's cats, but he did well considering that he'd been up since 5:30am (bad baby!) and we were encroaching on his naptime.

The truly wonderful thing is that when we told Ronnie that Dr Rydfors is our OB, she was positively glowing about him. He was the best OB we could hope for, she said, because he truly knows how to walk the line of appropriate care without stepping over it into unnecessary interventions. And again, when I told Dr. Rydfors that our midwife is Ronnie, he gave a wide smile and said, "Oh, isn't she just so great!" There's nothing like having a medical doctor approve of one's choice to plan a homebirth.

We've decided to give Morgan as much notice about the impending doom of siblinghood as possible, so he already knows that there's a baby in Mama's belly. He glanced nonchalantly at the pictures from the ultrasound, until Casey said that it was a picture of the baby in Mama's belly, and then he literally did a double-take and stared very intently for a moment or two. (He's been asking, predictably, to see the baby.) The baby will come out, he tells us, and say either "wah, wah!" or "Hi Morgan!" As things progress we're going to borrow some homebirth DVDs so he can see what will happen when the baby is ready to be born.

In more-strictly Morgan news: Tomorrow he will begin swim lessons with a new teacher, Kristy, and only one other child in the class. Blake is a couple of months younger than Morgan and is an excellent swimmer; I'm hoping he'll be a good influence on Morgan, who seems to have hit a plateau in baby-parent classes. Morgan already knows Kristy because she is always in the pool during our swim class, and she likes to splash water playfully at him (which he loves!). I've also been talking for two weeks about how Morgan is going to have a lesson with Kristy and Blake, and Mama is going to sit on the bench and watch. I'll put my suit on underneath my clothes in case I need to get in with him, but I'm hopeful that our easy-going guy will be happy to get in the pool by himself.

Morgan's been making jokes lately, like calling strawberries "strawberr-oes" and laughing hysterically. He also calls his rocking horse a "rocket horse." One night when Casey was making quesadillas for supper Morgan said he wanted to eat "quesa-Tisas" (Tisa being the name of a good friend of ours). He laughed and went on to request quesa-Joeys, quesa-Violets, and quesa-Jims. After that he started in on objects in Tisa's house: quesa-vacuum, quesa-guitar, and quesa-drums. He explained to us that a quesa-car is not a car made of cheese, but rather a car with cheese on it.

He has surprised us with his ability to recognize cars lately. He likes to mention our neighbors' parked cars as we walk across the parking lot, "a Subaru," "Joey's truck has flowers on it," "Mama, what's that? A Acura." One of our neighbors has a white Grand-Am and he recently learned it's called a Pontiac. Now twice, we've come across a Bonneville, and he's pointed out, "Look, a silver Pontiac!" At first we thought he might be identifying the red Pontiac emblem, but when we looked for it, there weren't any visible on the back on our neighbor's car. We figure he must be recognizing the stylistic similarities of the tail lights and the bumpers.

Yesterday at the park, Morgan sat down on a little girl's tricycle. The owner came running quickly, shouting, and hit Morgan on the head, then yanked his hair for good measure. As we left the park, Morgan replayed this scene of injustice for us. "We don't hit people," he said. We took the opportunity to talk about what the little girl could have done instead of hitting him, such as saying "That's my trike, I'd like it back please." And what do you know, today at the park a baby toddled over to Morgan's tricycle and began pushing it around. Morgan got up from his spot in the sandbox and told the baby, "That's my trike. I'd like it back please."

Tonight at the dinner table, he chattered for a while saying, "Papa. Casey. Papa Casey. Casey, Papa." Then he added, "Papa, you're a nice guy."

Outlaws

2008-03-07T12:52:00.000-08:00

A California appellate court recently ruled that parents have no legal right to educate their own children under current law.

This, despite the fact that homeschooled kids are sought out by top universities because they are so well-prepared for higher learning and because they are interesting people. This, despite the fact that test scores in California public schools are abysmal, some of the worst in the country: CA ranked 47th out of 50 in 2006-2007, according to one source. Perhaps we should be the ones suing our local school districts for "educational neglect" if any of the students are behind in say, music education?

We hope that things will change by the time Morgan is six. I love you, California, but come on.

If you outlaw homeschooling, only the outlaws will homeschool. Or something like that.

Here's how you can help:
1. Remain calm.
2. Sign this petition in support of CA homeschoolers' rights.

More on Car Seat Safety

2008-03-06T12:36:00.000-08:00

I just found these crash test videos, and wish I'd had them to illustrate my earlier post on extended rear facing. If these won't convince you, nothing will. (They're all short videos, and I think they're worth the time it will take you to watch.)

First, watch this video of a forward facing car seat:

Next, compare that with a rear-facing car seat:

And lastly, for those who wonder what the big deal is about car seat expiration dates:

Remember, 8 out of 10 car seats are improperly installed or used. That's a pretty huge number. If you need more information on how to keep your kids safe in the car, visit car-safety.org

Gender Un-Bender

2008-02-27T20:07:00.001-08:00

BEFORE:

AFTER:

Sink or Swim

2008-02-26T13:45:00.000-08:00

We had a friend come to swim class with us today, to see if he would like it. This is a baby-parent class in which each child has an adult in the pool with him. The kids are passed between the teacher and parent at various points during the class: they walk across the top of a floating mat from the teacher to the parent; they swim from teacher to parent; they do a back float with the teacher. Sometimes kids don't want to go to the teacher, but most of the time they are made to do it anyway. I'm lucky, in that Morgan has never had a real fear of other adults. When we have a substitute teacher and all the other kids are clinging to their parents and crying, Morgan will happily swim right over to the new teacher and back with nary a frown.

Well, our little friend who visited class today was not okay with the teacher. He did not want to go to her. He did not want to walk across the mat. He did not want to sing the songs, even. "No!" he cried when the teacher tried to take him. The teacher told his mother that he would be fine, but his mother was firm that she would not force him to go to the teacher. As they moved away the teacher said quietly to me, "Are these friends of yours? Is she always this overprotective? He's a first child, isn't he." I said that she was definitely sensitive to what he was feeling. "My advice to her would be that we've seen a lot of kids go through this and he will be just fine. But I can't teach him to swim if she won't let me." Okay, fair enough. But overprotective?

I see kids crying through their lesson all the time at the swim school. I know it's probably the same at any other school; I don't think that this school is particularly tough on this. But I don't understand why a parent would want to subject their child to this. Why do we force our kids to do (optional) things they don't want to do? just because we're bigger and we can? Imagine for a moment that you, as an adult, are with a friend who insists that you bungee jump off a bridge. You don't want to jump. Your friend takes you to the edge of the bridge. You are so scared of jumping that you wrap your arms around your friend, screaming in terror. Under what circumstances would it be even remotely okay for that friend to strap you into the bungee against your will and push you off the bridge? How would you feel about your friend after that?

If Morgan had shown this behavior I would have done the same thing. I was convinced before we started lessons that if he clung to me or showed a sign of fear I would hold him close and not let the teacher do something to him he did not want. He trusts me above anyone else, to keep him safe. I would still do this for him, even though I know he loves his swim lesson and is not afraid of the water. I don't see this as being overprotective. I see it as being respectful of my son. We all have days when we're not feeling well, or want to stay close to home or our loved ones. Little kids have these days too. I think we should take them seriously.

I have to say, that even though I see this sort of thing every. single. time. we are at the swim school, it was really hard to watch it being attempted with a child I love very much. I felt for his mother (who I thought was wonderful in resisting the teacher's pressure). I left feeling just a bit less love for the swim school and that teacher. Learning to swim is so much less important than trusting that your parent is on your side.

Five Sordid Facts

2008-02-25T11:49:00.000-08:00

My own dear mother has tagged me for this game in which a blogger reveals five sordid (adj. wretchedly poor; filthy; morally degraded) facts about herself, and then tags five more people to play the game on their own blog. So without further ado, I present to you my facts:

1. I am not nearly as grossed out by double-dipping as I ought to be. (Perhaps this is a by-product of working with toddlers for many years.) I do, however, understand why others object to the practice, so rest assured I don't engage in it myself.

2. I have an extremely high tolerance--nay, affinity--for repetition in my life. I will read the same books over and over again. When the seventh Harry Potter book was released, I read it three times within the month. I order the same entree each time we go out to certain restaurants. I also watch the same movies repeatedly. (As my mom mentioned, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest is a movie worthy of several dozen viewings. If you have never seen it, please stop reading right now and put it at the top of your Netflix queue.)

3. I have always had an inclination toward pessimism, though as an adult I try to override it when I am able.

4. I hold my breath when I have to walk through the perfume department of a store. Perfume makes me feel nauseated.

5. I still have my baby blankie. It is dirty and not fit for human eyes. I keep it in a vaccuum-sealed bag because exposure to normal household air will cause it to spontaneously disintegrate.

Who's next? I nominate this lady because her blog makes me laugh and I want more of it; the intrepid leader of our Diaper Free Baby group because she is a woman I admire greatly for her ambition and creativity; this homeschooling dad because I wonder if there is anything sordid about him; my friend who is a fearless explorer of self; and my cousin even though he's already been tagged by my mom because I think there are at least 10 sordid facts about him. Haha.

The Rules:
1. Link to your tagger, and post these rules.
2. Share five wild crazy facts about yourself.
3. Tag five people at the end of your post, and list their names, linking to them.
4. Let them know they've been tagged by leaving a comment at their blogs.

Have fun!