A few things have gone down since Col's six-month post. In chronological order:
I am once again as old as Lars. We marked the occasion with a lunchtime outing to the botanical gardens and an evening of drinks and The Amazing Spiderman 2.
Grey is the traditional English colour for birthdays
We celebrated Easter--Col's first--with church in the morning and dinner at Lars's colleague's house. They have a five-year-old daughter and an eight-year-old son who very kindly include Tor in their play. Also, one of their relatives works for Playmobil, so they have acres and acres of Playmobil sets whose color was a little off or who were packaged missing a piece, including a practically life-sized castle filled with knights and dragons. It's cool enough that I want to hide upstairs with the kids and play with it.
"Why, what's in YOUR Easter basket?"
The best of several bad shots--turns out it's easier to get a cute Easter photo of just one kid
"If you're over there, who's holding me?"
We had a spate of nice weather before a few weeks of rain, and we made the most of it at our several nearby parks.
Finally, a swing big enough for both of us
Puffball enthusiast
He demanded to wear boots even on the driest days...
till we figured out he just liked that he could put them on
himself and taught him to don his sneakers
Tor combines "Ironman" by Black Sabbath with
the 1967 Spiderman theme song:
"I am Ironman! / Does whatever iron can!"
Unimpressed with the anemic bus stop "benches"
Morris dancers: So Oxfordian
Tor found the pink balloon he's holding in the garden of the place we ate lunch. Earlier that day, he had helped me pick out a huge helium Tinkerbell balloon for a two-year-old's upcoming birthday party. Alas, on the walk home, Tor demanded that I carry him while pushing the stroller, and in the kerfuffle, Tinkerbell slipped off her string and flew away into the sky. The rest of the walk involved Tor slung over my shoulder, arms outstretched toward the heavens, screaming "TINKERBELLLLL" as if his heart were broken. Fortunately the passers-by were few.
Never too young for a little guided Macarena
The picture above is the last picture I took of Lars before he jetted off on a two-week conference hop from Vienna to Marrakesh. You know your partner feels guilty about leaving you with the kids when he insists again and again that "it's not a vacation." (Just kidding, you breadwinner you!) Concurrently with this trip, I started a new job at the Oxford University Press--as in, my first day of work was the day before Lars flew out. Here's where I park my bike:
That's right, those are ducklings. They hatched that very same week--obviously auspicious. They live in a sixty-foot-deep fountain in the middle of the quad in that picture, which used to be the cooling pool for the printing press (of course, now all the printing is outsourced, albeit to UK suppliers).I'm digging the work and the people in my office are friendly and willing to help me learn. The essence of the job (I'm officially a Production Editor in the Academic Law Division, and no, those capital letters aren't my idea) is taking Word documents from the editors and managing the production process that turns them into printed books. This is very exciting for me.The kids held up admirably while Lars was away. We got into a routine of getting up sometime before my alarm went off at 6:30. The kids would get in bed with me, Col would nurse and Tor would chat. Then Tor and I ate cereal while Col played on the floor; I made and drank coffee and packed our lunches/bottles/backpacks; and I popped upstairs for a very basic beauty routine and to get dressed in grubby clothes. Then I loaded Tor and Col into our double stroller and walked the 0.8 miles to day care. After dropping them off at 8:00, I grabbed my bike from a nearby school where I parked it overnight and biked the 15 minutes to work. Turns out that OUP has a locker room where I can change after I bike to work, complete with hair dryer, so I've been bringing my clothes and hairbrush in and stopping there before heading to my desk.After work, I biked back to the school by 5:30, get the kids back into the stroller, walk home, and make a rudimentary dinner (we ate a lot of eggs and croissants, chicken nuggets, and quesadillas, to be honest, with fruit since Tor won't really eat veggies). We Skyped with Lars or grandparents, did a puzzle, played outside, watch a video, read books, color, or play with play-doh or action figures until about 7:50, when I brushed Tor's teeth and read both boys two stories in Tor's bed. After prayers, I took Col to his room and nursed him until he was either asleep or sleepy, then put him in his crib.That's when it was time to do the chores. I washed the day's bottles and the breast pump stuff (OUP set me up to pump twice a day in their first aid room, which is pretty cushy), scalded the milk, made the lunches, halfheartedly straightened up or did some laundry, and then showered. I usually made it to bed by 10:00. Most nights, Tor blessedly slept through or got up once, and he had just one nighttime accident while Lars was away. Col is still getting up two times, usually around midnight and 3:00. It's a pretty sustainable schedule--the only bummer is when Tor wakes up right in the middle of a Col sleep stretch.Then we woke up and repeated.
Morning bedhogs
Orco meets Superman
"Obviously I'm hungry, woman"
The only really rough time I had with the kids was when Tor slipped off a ladder rung at the park and bit his tongue badly. It was bleeding all over the place, so I called urgent care to see what to do. They had me take him to the hospital, since it was a public holiday and no doctors' offices were open. As you might imagine, this meant an extremely stressful bus ride. Once we got there, it was a pretty long wait, and when he finally got seen, they just told us to put some ice on it. So next time he bites his tongue, unless it's flapping open or actually off, that's what we're going to do.The poor kid was very brave, though you could tell he was scared of all the blood coming out of his mouth--after he stopped really crying, he refused to swallow or spit or talk for about three hours, just drooling and keening. But he seemed to gather courage once the doctor saw him, and by the time we got on the bus to go home, he was talking normally again.
"I broke my ice lolly into pieces so I can eat it with my hands!"
Impressive catwalk skills
At a school carnival: cupcakes in the "fairy house"
Baby head not to scale
Wellies again, surprise surprise
Upon Lars's much-anticipated return home, it turned out that both kids anomalously had fallen asleep on the walk home and were passed out. We ate pancakes and chatted and eventually just took them up to bed. (Tor worked for hours on that sign, I'll have you know.)
Note Col in the chair
The close-up
The Saturday after Lars got back, the four of us took the bus to Bagley Wood, about four miles south of town.
A rare 25-degree May day
No Snap-n-Go this time around
Rocking Tor's old sun hat
...aaaand dead to the world.
Get that boy some Ray-Bans
"Let me feel that breeze on my nether parts"
Best part of riding the bus as a family: Tor and a parent get to sit up top
Finally, this tickled me: Tor got to pick out a bag of candy for a prize when he sleeps through the night, and he chose a sour gummy candy called Haribo Tangfastics. Yesterday, he slept through the night, and he selected a gummy shaped like a coke bottle, with a white back and a brown front. When I asked him what flavor he thought it would be, he said, "It's brown, so it tastes like kiwi. And this part is white, so it tastes like snow." This morning, he picked a green and white one. "The green part is apple flavor. And the white part is garlic flavor." Amazingly, he enjoyed it.
Being three weeks into a new job, two of which saw Lars out of town, has thwarted my sincere plan to post something substantive. I'll aim for a photo dump in a few days, but here is Mr. Col at seven months, first grinning up a storm and then playing in his new exersaucer. He is more smiley than ever before this month, and also more mobile, scooting and rolling anywhere he wants to go--but fortunately he's still pretty slow!
These beautiful snapshots were taken a week before Col's actual six-month milestone, because the poor kid isn't in top form. He's been sick since last Thursday, when he came down with a nasty cold that is gunking him up so completely that green goo is coming out of his nose, mouth, eyes, and ears. It's the kind of thing where he wakes up with his eyes crusted shut. The doctor said it's just got to run its course, and prescribed alternating Tylenol and Ibuprofen to help him feel more comfortable. His fever's down now but he's still pretty unhappy.
Having two kids is easy!
I'm grateful that this is happening now rather than in two weeks, when I start work (yep--new job!) and Lars concurrently goes out of town for two weeks. But it still sucks. Col's never been a good sleeper, but now he wakes himself up every 15 minutes snorting or coughing. All. Night. Long. Lars has been sleeping with Tor. I keep reminding myself how lucky we are to live in a period when I don't need to worry that Col may actually die from this cold. This reminder improves my attitude maybe 70% of the time, which is something.
Just a bump on a log
Mouth breather
Usually, though, Col's got a great disposition (other than his refusal to sleep for reasonable stretches) and is getting more and more active. He can now log roll across the floor to get just about anywhere he wants to go, and often where he wants to go is under furniture. I've frequently plunked him down and gone to cook dinner or fold laundry only to find him under the couch, Tor's bed, the coffee table, the dining room table, or the TV.
Thank goodness the table is glass or we might never have found him
He thinks his big brother is the best thing ever:
He goes willingly to people at day care and the church nursery, and in stark contrast to his big brother at this age, he takes a bottle like a champ. Because six months is the conventional time to start babies on solids, we also tried letting him grab and eat some bananas. He was not particularly successful--I think he maybe swallowed one and sent four or five dribbling into the recesses of the high chair. The next question is whether to feed him with a spoon, as we did with Tor, or to do this "baby-led weaning" thing where you just set out food in front of him and he can eat whatever he wants--bananas, avocado, mushy pears, food with that sort of texture.
Sit-ups with DaDa
Aftermath of sit-ups
Hanging with our resident superhero
"For me, you say?"
"What's with the camera?"
Last man standing at the church nursery gets ALL THE TOYS
Bathtime!
Tor continues to be a cutup, although he also whines a fair bit when he doesn't get his way.
"I'm the billy goat gruff, so you be the troll and go under the bridge."
Scene: At the pub.
Tor: Look what I found!
Uncle Niels: Whoa, a feather! Is that a crocodile feather?
Tor: No. It's not green.
Scene: Leaving day care.
Tor: Can I hold my umbrella?
Mom: Well, it's not raining. What would you want with an umbrella when it's not raining?
Tor: I'm going to use it as a walking stick because I've got a poorly foot.
That one is mainly funny for its Britishism. I didn't even know one could use "poorly" as an attributive adjective--I'd only heard it in the predicate, as in "He's a bit poorly today" or "I'm feeling poorly." Schooled by the three-year-old.
He's still pretending to be Ironman or Spiderman a lot, but Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles have gotten thrown into the mix. He's had a set of small Turtles action figures since December (courtesy of Ah-Bee and Pakka), but just recently he's been profoundly interested in watching Turtles cartoons, playing with the action figures, and pretending to be a Turtle. This led to the following conversation at day care:
Mom: So I saw in the newsletter that tomorrow there's an Easter egg hunt and the kids are supposed to dress up. That means like in their nice Easter clothes, right?
Day care staff member: Oh no, we don't want to get their nice clothes all messy. It means they can dress up in a costume--a bunny or a chick or anything; it doesn't even have to be related to Easter. They can dress up like superheroes if they want to.
Mom [nonplussed]: Oh, I totally misunderstood. I guess we'll have to make you a costume, huh, Tor?
Tor: I want to be a NINJA TURTLE!!
And that is how we spent a late night creating a turtle shell and mask out of the backs of cereal boxes. Lars took point on engineering the shell, which was held on by two army-issue belts. Tor wore the only green items of clothing he had--track pants (track trousers?) and a windbreaker--to complete the look. And, of course, gloves.
It emerged that he specifically wanted to be Donatello (the purple one)
When we picked him up at the end of the day, it turned out that he had won the prize for Best Costume: a mammoth chocolate egg wrapped in gold foil. It also turned out that no other parents had put their kids in costumes. Take that, Americans.
The haul
DaDa also took Tor to a nature outing at a local park with the English equivalent of granola-head parents. They made mud pies, brewed tea in a storm kettle, and cooked stick bread.
Happy Spring! One highlight of this month has been a visit from our friend Nick, who got his PhD with Lars in Minnesota and is now doing a postdoc in Berkeley. He came out to interview at Cambridge and stopped by our neck of the woods for the following weekend. The weather was great, so we took the kids on a looong walk to a pub on the Thames, only accessible by foot, bike, or boat.
Housemade apple-rhubarb juice: don't get used to this, kid
After beers and lunch, we went for a walk by the river. A network of dirt trails ran among the trees alongside the footpath, and Tor decided it was a "treasure trail." So he spent half an hour running up and down hunting for treasure, but mainly just found a series of birdhouses in the trees. Fortunately, that proved cool enough for him. We repeated the "treasure walk" last weekend at a wooded area on the outskirts of town. It's a good way to motivate Tor to walk instead of reclining lazily in the stroller while we get all the exercise.
"What lives in here? Maybe a gnome or somesing?"
Let's just buy a barge and be done with the house hunt
Five photo attempts, all yielding this face
Lars bravely gave Tor his first home haircut, using only scissors. It turned out quite respectably. Afterward, I realized that one quality of dryers I really value is their ability to remove hair from the laundry. I'm still shaking clippings out of the clothes that went in with that blue towel.
"I'm the king, you're the princess, and Dad is the barber."
"My hair is going in two directions, so I look like Daddy."
Tor continues to drag Lars into his room most nights. They frequently end up in some position akin to this one:
Get these men some coffee
Those of you on Facebook have already seen this shot, but it merits inclusion here. This month was Lars's 32nd birthday (gasp!) and we had a little family party including dinner at Atomic Burger, where the walls are covered with superheroes. Afterward, Lars opened a few presents and I tried my hand at baking with a kitchen scale, yielding mediocre cupcakes but good frosting.
Col "T. rex" Hansen
The weather was in the mid-teens (high 50s, for you Americanz) the weekend before last, and as mentioned, Lars and I undertook a five-mile-round-trip walk to Shotover Country Park while the kids napped after church. They woke up for the second half of it and we had leftover birthday cupcakes (secondhand for Col) while sitting on a log.
Overheating after the uphill slog
Spring!
Just this past weekend our friends the Lascus came down, so Sonia and Tor got to have another sleepover. Lars and I enjoyed grown-up company, the kids got along swimmingly, and we all got hailed on on our walk to the Museum of Natural History. Then we stopped by Lars's department and the Cornish pasty shop before heading back home and saying goodbye.
"When you said you wanted to play with Transformers, I thought . . ."
First ants-on-a-log experience. Result: eviscerated logs.
