Two Years of This Kid

And we still like him.

Things to Say

Curtis's speaking skills are really starting to come along. While it's nice to be able to communicate with him a little better, it's also annoying when you have to hear "Want fries, Daddy. Want fries NOW, Daddy!" for a half-hour straight while you sit in the parking lot of Famous Footwear, waiting for your life to pick out a pair shoes. We can't drive anywhere without that kid wanting fries.

Boom Boom Pow

Traci told me this story, so try to imagine Traci's librarian voice when you read it.

Curtis spent the morning walking around carrying an empty wrapping paper roll. I couldn't figure out why he kept calling it a "boom." Until he hit me with it and exclaimed, "Boom!"

The end.

Headstand

I'm feeling lousy today but still had to teach the Young Men. After my lesson I went into the nursery to get Curtis and take him home with me.

The kids were listening to a story, but when I scanned the chairs I couldn't see him anywhere. Then I looked at the front of the class and saw one kid standing on his head. "Come on, Curtis," I said as I shook my head. "Let's go."

What Child is This?

Paige and I have been musical buddies for some time now. But Curtis, that's a different story. Last night I turned on the Nirvana Live at Reading DVD. He looked at it for a second and I could tell he was getting a little uneasy. He looked at me, looked at the TV, and then back to me again.

"Elmo?"

It's hard to resist those big eyes and that little voice.

We said goodbye to Kurt, Dave, and Chris and turned on Elmo.

Curtis Loves Christmas

Curtis clearly loved meeting Santa for the first time.

Family Pictures

My friend Brian was nice enough to take some pictures of my family last weekend. Here's how Curtis felt about it.

Who Wore it Better?

Today it was Curtis's turn to wear Paige's old monkey costume. Who looked better? You make the call.

Sleepy Kids

Random thoughts from the New York trip.

It was tough four us to leave the kids for four days, but it was party time for them--two days at each grandma's. But I do believe that it threw their internal clocks off a bit.

On Sunday evening, Traci called her mom to check up on everyone. It was around 6 o'clock, Utah time. Traci's mom said, "Does Paige ever take naps in the afternoon?"

"Not really."

"Oh, well she just fell asleep on the kitchen table while we were eating dinner. Do you think she's down for the night?"

"Uh, no."

---

Curtis was also a bit worn out. The day after we got back, Traci sent me this picture. In the middle of playing, he just ran out of juice.



Having fun all the time is a lot of work.

The Competitve World of Pre-K Athletics

Paige and McKenzie listening intently to the half-time speech.

Paige had her first soccer game this morning. I don't think it was that big of deal for her, but for Traci and I, it was yet another anxiety-ridden momentous occasion.

For all of her incessant chatter around our house, Paige is incredibly shy around others. Luckily, she has really taken to the idea of "teacher" lately, which has made for good experiences in both preschool and primary. But she is still really timid around other kids. So something like soccer can go either way--a ton of fun for or an endless amount of tears. And that means a lot of stress for mom and dad.

Fortunately, I was able to get most of the worries out of my system on Wednesday when I took her to her first practice. To my delight, we got to the field and she ran right over to her team. She started stretching out with the others (that's the sign of a great coach, he has a bunch of 3-year-olds stretching out before practice) and didn't even look back at me.

She did really well through much of practice, save the few times where she and her buddy Mackenzie had to stop and throw grass or hold hands and skip. So I was expecting her to be a regular Christian Ronaldo at the game today.

Um, not so much. She seemed to be having fun, but every time the ball (or the swarm of kids around the ball) came her way, she headed the other direction. She was, however, very happy when her team scored a goal and just as happy when the other team scored.


Paige on a breakaway? No, she's running away from the other kids.

Her favorite parts of the game were when she got to sub out because she got to come sit next to me and pet the coach's wife's dog.

The coach is really good to include all of the kids and gave Paige a chance to kick off after a goal. She walked up the ball in super-slow motion, tapped it about one inch and then ran away.

But she had a great time, which is all that matters. (She wasn't nearly as good as the girl on the other team who was about a foot taller than everyone else and kept scoring all the goals. Clearly a ringer.)


Curtis trying to sneak onto the team.

Curtis loved it as well. When he wasn't running out on the field, he was stealing the corner-kick cones and using them as bullhorns.

Yay, sports.

Carpet Swimming

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In the end, Curtis wasn't really a big fan of the swimming pool. He normally loves the water, but all of our trips to the pool just kept getting in the way of nap time. He did, however, love scooting around the bedroom in Paige's Winnie the Pooh float.

Moon Phases

This is now the fourth year of St. George trips for Paige. It's been her best yet. She can't get enough of the pool, and when she's not in the water, she's planted firmly in front of the DVD player. What could be better?



Curtis, however, is in the I-want-to-touch-and-then-destroy-everything-in-my-path phase and is driving us a bit crazy. We got to hang out a 1 a.m., 6 a.m. and then 6:30 a.m. this morning. He liked our time together much more than I did.

Concerned About the Decline of Western Civilization?

Curtis clearly is. Just look at that face.

The Evil One

Over the last few weeks, Curtis has gone from being the quiet one, to the one who is constantly shrieking, biting, and being generally malcontent. He pulled a new, sneaky move at church on Sunday.

I was sitting between Traci and Paige, with Curtis on my lap. The second we all shut our eyes, Curtis reached over and pulled Paige's hair and then turned to the other side to smack Traci in the face.

He's been so ornery lately that we thought he may have yet another ear infection. I took him to the doctor yesterday. After checking him out, she said everything was fine and that "sometimes kids are just ornery." How's that for a prognosis/diagnosis?

New World View

A few of Paige's truths were shaken during our weekend trip to the ranch.

1. To protect his sensitive paws from the rough terrain, Jenny's dog was wearing "doggy shoes." Paige's response: Dogs don't wear shoes!!!

2. A sheep herder was driving his fourwheeler around with his sheep dog standing on the back rack. Again Paige exclaimed: Dogs don't ride motorcycles!!!

3. She also learned that while keyboards are generally awesome, it's not cool when your little brother smacks you in the eye with one. In my mind I heard her say: Keyboards don't double as attack weapons!!!

Evil Genius

The deceptively sneaky one is now walking. Every day he goes a few steps further, almost always with his hands straight up in the air.

Goodbye Pompadour, Hello Ladies' Man

The Hair. Before and After.

You and Me, We Have a Disease. You Affect Me, You Infect Me.

I took Curtis to the InstaCare on Saturday night. (We headed there the second we thought he was sick. We're not about to make another $1,300 trip to the ER. Another story for another time). While we were checking in, we stood next to a teenage punk boyfriend/girlfriend couple.

He had a mohawk and a KMFDM t-shirt (man, that band has great artwork), she had rad hair and big gauges. Of course I tried to eavesdrop on her explaining her symptoms to the receptionist.

"I have pain in my side and my kidneys...but it doesn't hurt when I pee or anything."

I was thinking what I'm sure everyone thinks when they see punks-in-love at the InstaCare--STD. It's gotta be an STD. Punks are always up to no good. Yes, definitely an STD. Or maybe swine flu. I took two squirts of the anti-bac on the desk and held my breath.

Curtis didn't have an STD or swine flu. Just an ear infection like always. No report yet on the punks.

One Year Anniversary

So, we've officially had one year with this chubby kid. (Though everyone concurs that he weighs a million pounds, the doctor insists that he only weighs 22. The vast majority of that weight has to be in that ginormous mellon.) We like him pretty good.

We had the two-day birthday extravaganza over the weekend--Sunday night with the Pearsons, Monday with the Sutherlands. The pictures above are his second round of cake smashing. He felt fine about eating the cake, but what he really enjoyed was the squishing. Apparently, we've really been stifling his squishing talents.

Traci is lamenting how fast the time has gone and how he's no longer a little baby. I'm trying to determine if I think it has gone fast or slow. It already seems difficult to remember what it was like to only have one kid to chase around.

Traci and I both agree that Curtis has been much easier than Paige was, but I wonder how much of that comes from A) comparing him to a rambunctious three-year-old and B) being more used to parenthood. He does seem to have a more laid back demeanor, though.

He loves Paige and is constantly laughing at her. But he's also started sticking up for himself lately, by both throwing a fit when she steals his stuff and spending a lot of time stealing her stuff. He's also figured out how to turn off the TV, which drives Paige absolutely crazy.

Post 8:00 p.m. (Paige's bedtime) is Curtis's time to shine. He laughs and plays and shows off all his tricks--no lousy big sister to steal his spotlight.

His tricks, however, are still a bit limited. He's not walking yet--just pulling himself up on stuff and shuffling from thing to thing--which is frustrating for him and sometimes embarrassing for me. Last week a church a younger (and much lighter) girl was trying to play with Curtis. She walked right over to him and he lay on the floor on his back, rolling back and forth like a chubby, shell-side-up turtle.

"Curtis," I told him sternly. "We can't have little girls showing you up like this." He just smiled at me. He knows what he's doing.

Here's to year number two...

The Third Day

I would have to guess that Jesus is pretty happy that his resurrection day is celebrated, in part, by dressing your kids up in new church clothes and taking pictures in the front yard.

The Chomper

I was changing my shirt when Traci saw my bare chest and said, "Uggh, what is that?"

[I considered ending the post here, and leaving that as your last mental image.]

"What?"

"That giant bruise."

"That's from your little vampire baby."

It is a regular occurrence that, when I sit on the floor, Curtis will crawl over to me immediately, grabs me and bites me. On this particular occasion, he bit me so hard that I had to grab his cheeks and pry his jaws open to get him to release.

"Curtis!" I shouted. "No! No! No!"

He looked at me, tears bubbled up in his eyes and then started streaming down his cheeks.

"Oh, it's okay, buddy. Don't be sad."

And I thought I was the victim here.

Nacho Curtis

Somehow Curtis has managed to stick around for a year--despite trying his best to swallow any object he can get hands and chewing on every electrical cord he can find. Where has the time gone?

He's still not walking, just quickly crawling behind his big sister so he can terrorize her wherever she goes. He does, however, hoist himself up on everything that can support his, well, ample frame. (My favorite is when he I'm sitting on the ground and he grabs my, well, less than ample hair and pulls himself up.)

Today's he added a new move. He pulls himself up and then, for a split second, let's go--no hands! Because he's a tricky dude, he doesn't just let go, he puts his chubby arms way up in the sky like he's riding a roller coaster. And then...the crash. If it's me that he's pulled himself on, the result is a magnificent body slam. This causes him hysterical laughter. Our little luchador.

This...Does...Not...Compute (In a Robot Voice)

Maybe Paige and I have been listening to too much electronic music lately. Yesterday Traci put clips in Paige's hair and said, "Paige, you look so cute. Just like Snow Princess Dora." Paige replied, "Not like a princess, like a 'puter." Meaning a computer. My daughter thinks she looks like a computer.

The computer is all she thinks about these days, thanks to her introduction to the games on the Playhouse Disney site. She says "I wanna, wanna, wanna, wanna, wanna, wanna, wanna, wanna, wanna, wanna, play gamesssssss!" about 100 times a day. I'm getting really good at Ooh & Ahh's Coco Nutty Bowling.

I feel fine about Paige being a computer. It's handy, I guess. Paige established long ago that Curtis, however, is not a computer. She's decided he's a potato.

Coming to Getchoo

From high centered, to frog hopping, to full-on crawl machine. One day Curtis was air-swimming, the next day he was crawling straight for every electrical cord in the house (and promptly putting them in his mouth). He couldn't be happier.

Speaking of putting stuff in his mouth, apparently he swallowed a bingo marker while playing with his cousins the other day. We're still watching for it to reappear. I'll spare you further details on what that means.

Paige is not pleased with Curtis's new found mobility. The second he starts moving toward her (or rather her toys)--even when he's clear on the other side of the room--she yells, "Dad! Curty's coming to get me! No, Curty! Don't get me!" I don't blame her for being a bit scared. He is bigger than her.

Sunday Best

Whose kids are these, anyway?

The Evil Hairdresser

Curtis got a real haircut from Grandma Martha today. Fortunately, Paige had prepped him for it.

Warning: A Picture So Cute You Will Die

Curtis kind of has a drooling problem. Fortunately, now he has a legitimate excuse. At just under five months, the little guy is getting his first tooth. The other day I had him in the Bumbo for about five minutes. By the time I got him out he was literally wet down to his toes. He didn't mind. Just look at that face.

All The Things Curtis is Not

Curtis shows the happiness that comes from Grandma giving you 'business hair'

Paige spends every waking moment talking. She comfortably executes both sides of the conversation, but still has to be acknowledged in everything she says.

Example:

PAIGE: Where's Danny? (the drummer in my band)
ME: [I am forced to repeat this question in order for her to answer. If I don't she just keeps asking, FOREVER.] Where's Danny?
PAIGE: He's at playing the drums.

We have this same conversation about airplanes, helicopters, grandma, kids in her nursery class, and the moon...every day.

The other night, Traci was at work and I was hanging out with both of the kids. Paige and I had to have the following conversation:

PAIGE: Is Curtis a refrigerator?
ME: Is Curtis a refrigeratior?
PAIGE: No!!!
PAIGE: Is Curtis a window?
ME: Is Curtis a window?
PAIGE: Nooooo!!!

This went on for about half an hour. We were able to determine that Curtis was not in fact a kitchen, a ball, a dog, or a computer (thank goodness!); nor was he in the swing, in the tub, or outside. Fortunately, we did get to the bottom of the mystery. Paige was able to verify that he was "a cute little guy," "a little brother," and "on the floor." Phew. I had really been worried that Curtis was either a lamp, a couch, or a tuba.

Second Kid Blues

Curtis is right to be frightened of his scary big sister

I can already tell that Curtis is getting different treatment than Paige did. Case in point, we made Paige wait until the mature age of two years old before going to her first concert. Curtis got to see Nada Surf at just three months. Lucky dude.

The show was at the Gallivan Center and I thought we'd be able to find a place where we could sit down and see the band. No. Having to settle for one or the other, we chose sitting down. Traci and Curtis spent the evening on the grass. Paige and I alternated between sitting with them and watching the show. I gauged her enjoyment level by the intensity with which she pounded my head while she sat on my shoulders.

I was very happy to get to see the band and the rest of the family seemed to have a good time as well. The last song, however, reminded me that I might want to keep the kids home for a few more years. Singer Matthew Caws encouraged the crowd to join in the refrain of "The Blankest Year," by screaming "*&$# it! I'm gonna have a party" repeatedly. After the second or third time, I was sure that Paige would have learned a new phrase. Fortunately, she wasn't paying attention.

I know she catches on to lyrics. She has to sing and dance along every time we see the Ting Tings iPod commercial. When it hits the chorus she loves to yell "Shut up and let me go. Hey!"

Life of the Pool Party

Curtis made his swimming pool debut tonight. It took a half hour to pour him into this getup (at 3 months, he’s a bit too big for this 6 month swimsuit). After five minutes of having his feet in the pool, he promptly fell asleep. Party animal.

Do It Again!

I put Curtis in the tub for my first time the other day. I get intimidated by the fragility of newborns, so I let Traci handle tubby time. I usually wrestle with Paige instead.

But Traci was at work and I was feeling brave so I decided to give it a shot, with Paige's help of course.

Things were going well. Paige and I were both hunched over his little tub scrubbing him down when a high-arching spray shot right for us. Luckily we were both able to dodge it. I was caught off guard and thrown off of my game plan. Paige, however, was blissfully amused.

"Curtis squirt!" she squealed. "Do it again!"

I was happy, Paige was sad, when he didn't do it again.

Golf, Anyone?

This is what Curtis wears when he needs to head off to the links.

Born to Rock

Here's Curtis in the Born to Rock onesy my mom bought him at the Hard Rock Hotel. My family members keep saying that he doesn't look like either Traci or me.

Hup Holland Hup

Since the Jazz's early departure, I've lost all interest in the NBA playoffs (I am still passively rooting for Kobe to lose). I'm now focusing all of my energy on soccer. It's Euro 2008 time and the Dutch have come out of nowhere to dominant the first round.

Dutch voetbal always brings out the nostalgia in me. It's been eight years since I walked down Dutch streets painted entirely orange in support of their team--Holland hosted the tournament in 2000. I've never experienced such sports excitement and watching the watching the games with my friends the Bloms, Butler, and Wix was one of the highlights of my mission.

It's been four years since I was sneaking out from my job at the Community College to drive to Provo to watch Euro 2004 on TV with my friend RB. That was a life-changing tournament. Not because of the soccer, but because RB decided to have a kid. (Fortunately, his wife was able to give birth without making us miss any of the games.)

RB was the first of our friends to (purposely) venture into parenthood. When we found out they were going to have a kid, it became time for us to start seriously considering the proposition.
Here we are, four years later, with two little kids. It's 4:00 a.m. and Traci is sitting next to me, giving Curtis a bottle.

Paige loves playing soccer. She dribbles the ball from one side of the backyard to the other, kicks it against the fence and yells "Goooooooooooooal!!!!" So we watch Euro 2008 together and we both cheer when Holland scores. (She just likes cheering.)

For the next round, I'll probably bust out my orange, inflatable Dutch crown, Oranje jersey and wooden shoes. RB has promised to find his Snickers Lucky Pants, the orange promotional whitey-tighteys from 2000. Hup, Holland, Hup!

Six Weeks of Curtis

So, little Curtis has been with us for almost six weeks now. We like him pretty good and intend to keep him. (I have a friend who adopted a kid a few months ago. I was a little surprised to hear that you basically have a one year guarantee when you adopt. If it doesn't work, you can just give 'em back.)

In some ways, newborn #2 seems easier than the first one. But it's likely just a change in perspective. We had a tough go with Paige from the beginning. She had acid reflux and would cry and cry. We spent many hours bouncing her and trying to hold her just right so she'd be happy. Curtis is pretty good for the most part, though he still isn't a very good night sleeper. And he barfs a lot.

Curtis probably seems a lot easier to deal with because we are so busy trying to handle Paige. It's nice to have a kid who just lies there and never cries, "No! Bye, bye change diaper" or "Bye, bye, wear Paigey's shoes."

But adding a second kid makes everything harder. Traci and I are back in the stage where going to the grocery store, getting in the shower, or cleaning the house seems like an insurmountable task. Much planning is required for anything.

Paige is doing pretty good with Curtis, or Cur-TIS, as she calls him. She has to climb all the way over him in order to regularly "kiss his head, kiss his head." She likes to hold him. But when she's done, she just pushes him over.

Traci is getting very little sleep. But she likes the kid, too.

word association

Though she never wants to listen to us, it's obvious Paige at least hears the things we say. Now when we change her diaper she immediately says, "Whoa, big poops!" regardless of the contents.

Diapers have become very intriguing to her and she's very interested in what's going on with Curtis' diaper. Yesterday I was just about done changing him when he squirted all over me. Paige watched the whole thing in quiet amazement. After I had gotten him all cleaned up and in a new diaper, Paige declared, "All gone, water poops!" Apparently, we have never taught about urine. But she knows about water and she knows about poops. Water poops. Makes sense to me.

On a linguistic note, I also like that Paige calls motorcycles "motor bicycles" and refers to her belly button as her "tummy button." I loved when I said goodbye to her this morning she replied, "Fax me."

Curtis at Three Weeks

Curtis seems slightly less amused.

Curtis in Real Life

So this is pretty much what Curtis is like.

Paigey vs. Curtis

My week of being home/at the hospital with my family is quickly coming to a close. The hospital stay went well enough (despite the generally poor service at Intermountain Medical Center) and we were happy that it was much shorter than our first go round. When the time came to leave, though, we were just as nervous as first-time parents. We worked to get Curtis into Paige's old car seat. We had to keep tightening and tightening those straps until it was small enough to fit the little guy. When we got him in the car we both immediately had the feeling of 'what are we going to do with this kid now?'

The first big challenge was facilitating his permanent introduction to his big sister. We took Curtis over to Traci's mom's to pick up Paige. We sat Curtis' car seat down in the living room and didn't say much about it to Paige. She saw him and kind of half-acknowledged him. We were okay with that. When we put them both in the car to go back home, we took away all books/toys that could have possibly been used as a projectile weapon.

Once at home, things went okay. Paige's only real reaction came when Curtis began to cry a bit. "Waaa!" Paige exclaimed. "Paigey's sad."

"Sure you are, sweetheart."

The next morning came the real breakthrough. Paige got out of bed and headed into our room to start her morning routine of watching The Wiggles with Traci. Traci was on the bed, with Curtis lying next to her. Paige walked up to the side of the bed and happily exclaimed, "Baby Brother!" She got up on the bed and had to hug and kiss him. "Oh, it's Curtis!" She then had to hold him, which she affectionately did with her arms wrapped tightly under his chin, not unlike a sleeper hold.

Since then, she's been pretty good about having him around. She only gets upset when I'm holding him instead of playing with her. We'll see how she does tomorrow when Traci's on her own and Paige can't have someone's full attention.

Welcome to the Club

I guess I am now officially part of the raising-a-boy crew. Curtis gave me an initiatory squirt this afternoon when I attempted to change his diaper. His distance was matched only by his aim.

Little Baby: Day 2

When I got back to the hospital this morning, little Curtis had already had a visit from the snip-snip doctor. I almost fainted when I saw it, but he seemed to be taking it like a champ.

Welcome to the Family

Just 8 1/2 short hours ago, we welcomed little Curtis into our family. He was 7 lbs, 4 oz and 19 inches long with a ton of brown hair.

At about 8:30 this morning Traci said that she didn't think we should go to church because she was having contractions; by 9:30 we had all of our stuff together. We dropped Paige off at my sisters and were on our way to the hospital. By 10:00 Traci was dilated to a 7 and by noon she was ready to start pushing. At 1:24, the little boy formerly known as Max Power made his appearance.

We are very happy that everything went so smoothly (and were incredibly surprised by how quickly) and that Traci didn't have to have another C-Section. Traci is feeling much better than she did after having Paige and Curtis is doing just fine.

This afternoon, Jenny brought Paige to meet her little brother. When she walked in the door, she saw me lift Curtis out of his crib and sit down on the chair. She immediately came over to me and said, "Put him back in the bed, put him back in the bed." It's going to be a rough transition.