Parenthood: December 2009 Archives


Ewan doesn't mind sharing his birthday with Thanksgiving. 

Star Wars cake

Last year he dressed up like the Grim Reaper for a bit and insisted on a tombstone birthday cake. This year he wanted the "REAL Star Wars," as opposed to the new Clone Wars Star Wars, like the cartoon series. 

Old school Star Wars, he won't have it any other way. I think it's Leia ...


Ewan is still baby-chubby and there isn't a day that goes by that I don't pinch his giant rosy squirrel cheeks. While Liam transitions to his friends, over-using the word "dude," and now shies away from holding my hand in public, Ewan doesn't mind. He still wakes up in the morning, climbs up on his bathroom stool, and lets me comb his way however I want. He doesn't care that I still pick out his clothes; he still will snuggle up to me on the sofa when we watch movies. Whenever I'm in the kitchen and clang a pot or rattle a dish, no matter where he is in the house, I'll hear his thunderous fat feet hit the floor running; he climbs down the stairs, runs to the pantry for his little apron, and rushes to the counter to see what's cooking or baking. He's fascinated with making food, even if he's the pickiest eater I know. 


His favorite foods are still macaroni and cheese and pita and hummus. 

He loves his "I Spy" books and Lego Indiana Jones on his Nintendo DS. He can print his name and knows all the long and short sounds of his vowels. He's eager to read "bigger kid books," eager to emulate his big brother in school work. He's over (mostly) his George Carlin-curmudgeonly shy period and now plays with the kids in his playgroups instead of sitting in a corner scowling at them from behind a book, ruminating at how he doesn't need friends. He's still adorably cantankerous at times, though, and has wandered into that period in his young life where he doesn't understand the concept of TMI. 

Five smile!

While in the doctor's waiting room, Liam was carrying on a conversation with the receptionist. A lull in the conversation seemed Ewan's only chance to get in a word edgewise so he contributed the only thing he could think of to say at the moment: "My brother's butt stinks sometimes!" Liam and I both nearly melted into the floor while Ewan cackled with laughter. It was hard not to laugh with him, even for Liam. 

He wakes me up every morning (except the mornings I go into the station before the sun rises) by putting his face centimeters from mine and whispering: "Good morning, mama." 

He had the most beautiful chocolate brown eyes I've ever seen. 

He will stop whatever it is he's doing to help his brother, his father, or me. 

I'm so proud of the young man he's becoming. 

Happy birthday. 

More from Thanksgiving:

Pumpkin cheesecake

Liam: "I'm a head away from being as tall as Great-Grandma."

Thanksgiving table


So Much More Room for Activities!

OMG bunkbed! Major excitement!

When I was little my Aunt Cayenne would babysit me and a perk of this was that I got to play with my cousins' hamsters, Jake and Patch. I would stand in front of Jake and Patch's cages and watch as they would freak out and launch into a blur of activity in and on their wheels and tunnels. I was reminded of this the other day after Chris assembled the boys' bunkbeds, an early Christmas gift from us and our parents.

Currently, their bed is a pirate ship and the desk at which Liam does his independent study is now covered with a treasure map and various implements which assist them in reading said map. 

Ewan climbed to the top once and then apparently forgot how to descend a ladder and he cried because he thought he was stuck on the top bunk for forever. It's not the same sort of ladder that's at the playground, he said after I helped him down. 

We were worried that the boys would fight over who got to sleep on top. Then I was worried that Ewan would climb up and fall off but now he won't climb past the second rung on the ladder so we're all good for now. I've had to get onto Liam once for launching all manner of toys from the top bunk. This morning he had all the Legos up there in an effort to construct a trebuchet (he's mine afterall!) from which to fling small stuffed animals. 

Chris put the entire thing together and for a couple hours after talked about how he put it all together. To his credit, I would have gone on about for twice that length. Liam hopped all around his room talking about how much room they now have for GAMES! and PLAYING! 

It was a lot like this:

(Beware F bomb at the 45 second mark in case smallish ears are around.)

The Holidays in Bullet Form

- I put up our Christmas tree the day after Thanksgiving. My mother is slated to arrive tonight and in keeping with tradition, will likely redo all of my ornaments. All of my Christmas decorations are things she found while out and about antiquing. She does them better, anyway. 

- Ewan wrote that he is grateful for emo on a link in our annual Blessing Chain (strips of paper labeled with things with which we've been blessed this year). 

Picture 13.png
I was really worried, all, "My son has a horrible taste in music?? But then I realized that he was trying to write the name of his co-op friend: Emma.

- Because of a radio client, I have a four-person maid service in my home right this very moment. I'm cringing because they're cleaning things I have never before cleaned in this house. I raced through the halls earlier cleaning this and that before they came to clean it because I would die if they saw some of the dust bunnies lurking under dressers and beds. I can hear them moving furniture right now; the wood feet of certain things makes a farting noise when slid across the wood floor. Also, my entire house smells like lemons. I hid some of my book titles so they wouldn't think that I was a weirdo.

- The boys are getting bunk beds for Christmas. I am slightly concerned. Also, I sort of want to trade them beds.

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Dana asks: "Thanksgiving Traditions: Yours or Your Mother's?"