Exhibit B: He also has cool new Vans, coveted by his mother.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Monday, July 30, 2007
You may also notice, if you look at the right hand edge of the photo, that I also decreed that the dining room MUST be painted before the furniture was replaced. Yes, I made my poor husband paint after a tough week of work, both at home and at "the office." In my defense, though, I will point out that I did at least half the painting, even going so far as to climb up on the ladder (but only VERY carefully and tentatively, and with respect to my physical limitations) and crawling around on my hands and knees painting trim. We (okay, mostly I) selected the color "Drizzle" from Sherwin-Williams, and I bought the "zero-fumes" Harmony paint, which, as luck would have it, was on sale last week. We painted all Friday afternoon and Saturday morning, and--honest to God--you could not smell it when you walked in the house. Amazing!
The dining room is now fully painted, including the walls on either side of this photo. The muted greenish-blue really sets off the lovely variation of maples in the floor, and I'm just tickled to be done with it--and to have eliminated three more white walls in my house! As I've told Ted, if I had my way, there would not be a single white wall in the whole place.
We're still in the process of putting furniture back in place and dusting everything, as every surface in the house is covered with wood dust from the floor project, so I do not yet have my official "After" photos. Stay tuned for beautifully staged photos of the end result.
In the meantime, here are a few more pics of the project and on-site laborers.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
- On Sunday, we had the down comforter and a big pile of pillows heaped on the floor of our bedroom, since I was stripping the sheets from the bed to wash them. Arlo had tunneled underneath, and as he emerged from the pile, he told me, "I'm cracking out of my egg!"
- Two nights ago, I walked into the dining room to find that he had very precisely lined up the following items: a yardstick, a toy dump truck, and a sippy cup. I asked him what he was doing, and he said, "I built a birdhouse!"
- Last night we had dinner at the Okoboji Grill with my dad. Arlo picked up a pair of coasters from the table, and began passing them through the slots of his ladderback chair. "Look, Mommy," he said, "I'm putting in some movies"--as if they were DVDs going into the player.
It's incredible to watch Arlo as he progresses from merely responding to stimuli to creating scenarios in his imagination--and making new and inventive connections across the different parts of his world. I'm amazed and surprised at the depth of his understanding sometimes.
I'm also amazed and suprised at his rate of physical growth these days. Over the weekend we marked another notch on the wall in his bedroom, where we've been tracking his height since he was about 18 months old. We had marked his latest height in mid-June, and I wouldn't have even thought to measure him again so soon--but he had the bathroom scale out, and was really interested in knowing his weight (35 lbs., holding steady for several months now) so I figured we might as well check his height too.
Between 6/13/07 and 7/22/07, my dear son has grown more than an inch. I made Ted double-check my measurements, and he confirmed. Amazing! And it's no wonder all of his shorts are falling off of him.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Still, I confess, I didn't see the harm in giving Arlo a TUMS. I mean, loads of people chew them every day as a calcium supplement--and Lord knows that I eat them like they're going out of style, now that I have entered the Heartburn Trimester of my pregnancy. And it's better than candy, right?
However. Faking illness to get a treat is not a habit I wish to promote in my son, so I explained to him that he should not tell Mommy that his tummy hurts unless it really does hurt. If he wants a TUMS, I explained, he should just ask for one.
I know. Y'all are probably aghast that I give my child over-the-counter antacid as a treat. Please, at least forgive the tastelessness of it by recognizing that I have cleared its safety with Arlo's doctor and with our friendly Walgreens pharmacist.
Also, I must tell you that TUMS is a very reliable form of currency in my household. Much like chewable vitamins (and really, it's not much different in substance either), they can be used to coax Arlo out of the bath tub on a stubborn evening, or it can put him in a chipper mood before breakfast, when he and Mom are both rather grumpy some days.
And you would not believe how good he has gotten at asking nicely.
The TUMS first helped him learn to say "please" reliably when he's making a request. Now I've taken it a step further.
Arlo will say to me, "I want a TUMS."
to which I reply, "Well, Arlo, how do you ask nicely for a TUMS?"
and now, instead of just saying, "Pleeeeeeeease," as was the first level of politeness training, he says, "Please may I have a TUMS?"
It's brilliant. And I never have to worry that Arlo might be calcium deficient.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
We've had a couple of close calls this week. Arlo left Turtle on a bench at the Rec Center on Tuesday when we were there for swimming lessons . . . but we went back an hour or so later and found Turtle still sitting there. Last night, Turtle was nearly lost under a table in the restaurant where we ate. We searched and searched, and Ted retraced our steps back through the Farmer's Market to the car, returning empty-handed. Luckily, we didn't give up. Turtle had fallen behind a booth bench, against a wall--not the table where we were sitting. Whew!
How beautiful that Henry and Alice found a successor. I hope that Henry will grow to love New Minty as much as he did the original.
For our part, as soon as we realized that Turtle was going to be an important member of our family (Arlo was maybe six months old), I went right to the Web and Googled the info from Turtle's tag, finding and ordering an identical turtle, in case the worst should happen. For months, Arlo used the two Turtles interchangeably, but gradually--almost imperceptibly at first--he began to show a marked preference for one over the other. Naturally, his favorite is the grungier, more threadbare, and, of course, smellier of the two. This is, obviously, a situation that perpetuates itself.
The best part about it? He calls the stinky, worn, more deeply loved Turtle "Clean Turtle." Not because he actually thinks it's cleaner--but because he understands that clean is good, and dirty is bad, and he most certainly must refer to the preferred Turtle in the most positive terms available.
I hope to be able to follow up on this post by adding a photo of Clean Turtle and/or Arlo with Clean Turtle, as soon as I get a chance. In the mean time, here's a picture of what Turtle looked like when he was brand-new:
Monday, July 09, 2007
I just want to say that the top of the belly is not the only danger zone. You also have to remember to check the underbelly for debris and stains. Twice today I have discovered junk on my shirt (a white one, of course) on the underside of my belly---and this is troublesome, because in general, other people can see this area of my shirt when I'm walking around but I can't!
I think the last incident--coffee grounds across the lower abdominal region--must've come from when I was washing my hands in our coffee/supply room and my tummy might have grazed across the counter top. Earlier today it was also a coffee spot. Methinks I should be mindful of my belly position when in the coffee area!
Not only that, but I think I might be wise to avoid white shirts from here on out. We'll see.
Oh, and if you see me walking around with some food or other junk hanging off the bottom of my shirt--where it is likely to be hidden from my view--please just tell me. I'd like to try to maintain some semblance of presentability, in spite of my burgeoning shape. Thanks!