I just watched Liam eat half of a giant log of goat cheese for a snack. I really shouldn’t have allowed him to eat that much (he’ll never eat his dinner) but it was so impressive that I just sat there with my mouth open.
Author: Shannon
Open
In the last 24 hours Liam has learned how to open the recycling bins and the refrigerator. There are two (quite) possible outcomes:
1) We end up “recycling” (and by recyling I mean throwing away) a fair number of Liam’s toys.
2) We end up with a refrigerator full of spoiled food.
It looks like another trip to my least favorite store (Babies ‘R Us) to look for a fridge lock has moved up the to-do list…
Stucka, Stucka, Stucka!
No fewer than 6 times in the past hour I’ve heard Liam yelling (very insistently) “stucka, stucka, stucka!” Turns out that he not only knows what stuck means but how to say it (sort of). Each time I’ve found him with his finger stuck in a small hole in the foot brake on our running stroller. This appears to be an uncomfortable thing for him, but not uncomfortable enough to keep him from doing it over and over. So much for that genius theory I had working for a little while…
Boston
For those who don’t know, we just got back from a weekend visiting Gillian in Boston. About 20 minutes before we left a huge oak tree fell across our neighbor’s yard. It was sunny and beautiful, no wind, no nothin’. I guess it’s time to start having those oak-tree-falls-through-our-roof-and-kills-us-in-our-sleep panic attacks again. Amazingly it didn’t hit anyone’s house, or anyone’s car, or take down any powerlines, and according to our neighbor narrowly missed a runner. It even missed the mailbox and satellite dish in the yard where it fell. Here are some pictures:
(there’s a whole house back there!)
View of our house from the base of the tree:
Looking up the street (that’s our mailbox on the right):
After that excitement we left for the airport where the following conversation took place (in several parts, starting on the way in the car):
———————-
(in the car)
Shannon:Â You do have the confirmation numbers for our flight, right?
Matt:Â Yes.
Shannon:Â You’re lying, aren’t you?
Matt:Â Yes.
———————–
(at the kiosk at the airport)
Shannon:Â Don’t we need the confirmation number?
Matt: I’ve never needed it before. (putting card into machine)
Machine:Â Please enter your confirmation number.
Matt:Â Crap.
————————-
(in line for manual check-in, after standing in the same place for approximately 10 minutes)
Matt: I’m going to call my dad and get the confirmation number. (calls Jim and after several tries gets the number written down and turns to the kiosk which happens to be right next to where we are standing in line to try again)
Machine: Please insert card. (Matt inserts card) Thanks for flying AirTran. I will now print your boarding passes without needing any confirmation number whatsoever.
—————————-
Finally, we got to Boston and Gillian met us at the airport. We had a fantastic dinner at a local restaurant and went to bed to ready ourselves for the busy day ahead.
Gillian and Matt (and hotdogs) are awesome:
And they have the shirts to prove it:
We started the morning with a fantastic breakfast at a local restaurant in JP (Jamaica Plain), ate our faces off, and were off to take pictures in front of Gillian’s local library branch:
Gillian would like you to know that her name starts with a “C”:
Then we were off to the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum to get some culture (no pictures allowed inside, as enforced by some very severe-looking guards so we took a picture from across the street). That is not a guard with her arms outstretched, just some random passerby:
Then we walked through a park where we saw some of the (many) fowl with which Gillian is currently obsessed:
Those who know me know that I was thrilled to be this close to geese, babies or no babies:
Next we headed to a rose garden:
We missed our baby, but everywhere you go there’s a giant baby head with a cheek to pinch, so that was comforting:
Next we went to see where Gillian works and eventually headed back to her place to collect our things and take the train to our hotel to check in and get ready for the evening.
Gillian’s front door:
After we checked in, settled in, and showered we met my freshman-year college roommate and her husband for drinks.
Sarah, Shannon, and all 14 of Shannon’s chins:
We hung out for a couple of hours and then said our goodbyes and headed off for dinner in the North End. We ate at a fantastic little Italian seafood restaurant with about 6 tables and an hour wait. It was worth every minute and I had the best alfredo of my life. After that we headed back to the hotel for a little relaxation and a good night’s sleep:
The next morning we met at 10:30 with the intention of getting tickets for a park service tour of part of the Freedom Trail, but when we got there it turned out that they’d changed the times without updating the website, so we went to one of the three Dunkin’ Donuts we passed in the half mile between our hotel and the park service office and ate Boston “Kreme” donuts in Boston. Next we headed to the Granary Burial Ground, which was conveniently across the street from our hotel.
Ben Franklin’s parents’ grave:
Next we headed over to Boston Common:
Swans ‘a nesting (further fueling Gillian’s fowl obsession):
Boston loves a man on a horse:
Next we headed over to the water:
After a quick rest we grabbed some lunch and went back to the park service office to try again for a tour (this time successfully). After we got the tickets we had thirty minutes to burn and Matt and Gillian got iced coffee at Dunkin’ Donuts. While we were inside we saw where Matt would park if he lived in Boston:
Then were off on our tour. Here are some highlights:
Old State House:
Supposed site of the Boston “Massacre:”
Gus, atop Faneuil Hall:
Paul Revere’s house:
Again, Boston loves a man on a horse:
Old North Church:
Inside Old North Church:
Second floor of Faneuil Hall:
Matt, starting a Revolution:
After a quick trek through Quincy Market we headed back to the hotel to collect our bags and hit the T towards the airport. Before we actually made it home we took the wrong shuttle bus, waited in a ridiculous security line, waited on the plane forever while AirTran tried (and eventually succeeded in) bribing someone to get an overbooked passenger on our flight. After about 6 total hours of travel, we finally made it home to see that everything was exactly how we left it (including the tree in the neighbor’s yard, which was removed today). A good time was had by all.
Registered
Liam loves the new floor register in the kitchen. He shows this love by removing said floor register from its spot and throwing his bristle blocks down the hole. Oy vey.
Ta Da!!!
After two (very) long days, the doors are finally in (albeit not completely dry). There are bugs all over the house. The air conditioning ran all day (the greatest irony being that our electric bill will be ridiculous as a result of installing energy-efficient doors). I’m exhausted. Matt’s exhausted. Liam’s bouncing off the walls. We kind of can’t believe we get to live here.
Before:
The only functioning lock (if you can call a rod that slides into a hole a “lock”) on the now defunct sliding glass door:
The completely useless broken lock on the sliding glass door:
Nasty lock with the key stuck in the back that only Matt was able to remove:
1957 “privacy” glass:
Disgusting floor register:
After Workday One:
After Workday Two:
(the paint’s not quite dry so the door is still open, but you get the idea…)
Notice the beautiful (functioning!) fancy locks:
Screens that don’t have holes or duct tape. What a concept!
Non-disgusting floor register:
Now, off to finish the stairs…and paint the deck…whew!
L, M, N, O…G!
We have magnetic letters on our refrigerator that when put inside their base will say the letter and its pronunciation out loud. Liam’s been playing with them for months, but until today it was the puzzle aspect of the game that interested him (get the letter into the base and make sounds, push the right button and it will sing the alphabet song). A few minutes ago while I was making coffee he ran over to the refrigerator, pointing at something and screaming “G!” at the top of his lungs. I should mention here that this is not a new occurrence since he learned that Gillian is his “G” and every time he sees her picture these days he yells “G!” emphatically, so I didn’t really spring to action until I realized that a) we don’t have a picture of Gillian in the kitchen (sorry, G) and b) he was pointing at the refrigerator. I glanced over and realized that he was, in fact, pointing to the letter G. Now, I try not to be one of those parents who decides, with absolute certainty, that everything my child does means that he’s a genius (which is actually much harder than you’d think) and my initial reaction was ‘what a funny coincidence.’ Just in case, I knelt down and asked him where the letter “O” was and he pointed to the O. Then I asked him where the “L” was and after searching for a few seconds, he pointed to the L. He wasn’t as certain with a few of the other letters (and it doesn’t help that many of them live in a semi-permanent upside-down state), but still. Wow. Now this has to be a fluke, right — I mean, an incredible fluke, but a fluke all the same…?
Manic
The seemingly unending rain is bad enough by itself but the sun taunts are beginning to get to me. Add that to the fact that I can’t guarantee that I can get to the bottom floor of my house without getting wet and you get a thoroughly annoyed Shannon. Throw in a kid who has gone (in a span of 2 weeks) from sleeping 12 hours per night and taking 3.5 hour naps to sleeping around 11.5 hours nightly and napping for no more than 45 minutes at a stretch and I’m basically beside myself.
Time Out
Fairly recently we started using the time-out method for Liam when he’s refusing to follow directions. Usually this occurs after we ask him to do something that he’s done a thousand times before and he completely refuses to comply after being asked multiple times. It consists of putting him on the floor in his room and closing the door for around 60 seconds, during which time he sobs and screams, followed by a hug and very simply telling him why he was there. Lately, just the threat of a time out is enough to help him along in the following-directions arena. This has coincided with his ability to reach and turn doorknobs (which seems unrelated, but bear with me). He can close them nicely, but still has trouble with the opening (which is exacerbated by the child-safety doorknob covers I have on certain doors that I’d rather he not be able to open at all right now, including the inside of his bedroom door). Last night while Matt was on the phone, Liam was playing a game of hide-and-seek with Matt from behind his bedroom door. The difference in this game from all the other times was that Liam (laughing heartily) would pull his door closed — but the second that it shut he began sobbing. The first time Matt opened the door really quickly, thinking that he might have hurt himself in some way. But as soon as Liam realized that the door was open he stopped crying and began laughing. The problem was that he then repeatedly shut the door (while laughing) and promptly began sobbing as soon as it was shut. Matt opened the door for him at least five times before he finally removed the kid from his room beacause the bawling was such that he wasn’t easily calmed. My theory is that in his mind he was putting himself in time-out. Being a toddler can be so confusing!
Losing It: Viewer Mail
I think that this confirms a nationwide epidemic:
Thanks to our reader Nicholas who sent this to us all the way from a restaurant lobby in New Jersey.