This Sofa is a Rocket Ship!

Oliver is very into make-believe these days. The sofa becomes a car, a rocket ship, a castle – you name it. Here is a video of him “fixing his house”

And another time...

Blub, blub sound

Jenny: What is that sound?
Oliver: It’s me.
Jenny: But what is that sound?
Oliver: It’s me breath(ing) under the water looking for treasure.
Jenny: Did you find some treasure? What is it?
Oliver: a trash can

Zaeda too is talking a lot. She has the raspberry sound down. Sometimes she makes that sounds against her own hand, slobbering across it like a harmonica. We’re still surprised by her unannounced shrieks and screams when she sees something interesting.




Physically, she’s pulling herself up on everything. She loves to stand and bounce. As for crawling, she has the strength, but just hasn’t figured out how everything works togther. Once up on all fours, she doesn’t know what to move and ends up on her belly kicking in every direction. No forward movement yet, but at least she can finally spent time on her stomach without screaming in frustration.

Remember practice baby sister from last year? Next to actual baby sister, she’s kinda creepy.

She’s also feeding herself these little baby puffs and Cheerios. They tend to stick all over so that when we pull her out of the highchair, we find them clinging to her like sticky burrs. Once we let her take her whole bowl of oatmeal, just to see how she’d do. The experience was more about touching the oatmeal than eating it and predicatbly she went straight from the table to the bathtub.

Of the eight or so wind up toys that Oliver has, Zaeda likes all but one. She really hates the flipping frog. Maybe it’s the way it doesn’t just move constantly but rather pulls its energy into a crouch before suddenly kicking up and flipping. I think it’s the coolest of them all, but it just freaks her out.

Discussion about college

Jenny: Oliver, do you want to go to college?
Oliver: Yes, but I want you, Daddy and Zaeda to go with me.

Oliver dressed himself.

Child Abuse?

Until a baby is about twenty pounds, nothing beats the Baby Bjorn for carrying them around. They can either face in (for sleeping) or out (for looking around). We love it because it leaves two hands free to get stuff done. We’ve both strapped on the kids and vacummed, washed clothes, cleaned up the house, etc.

It’s so comfortable for both parent and child that the little one goes silent, just experiencing it all. Beyond reflexively protecting the front of your body, it’s possible to briefly forget the baby is on you. That happened to Jenny recently, and I thought it was funny enough to post here. We came home one busy evening and Jenny strapped on Zaeda and started cooking. She was very deliberately slicing onions for a Japanese dish when she heard a little sniffle and a whimper. She looked down to see tears streaming down Zaeda’s face. Jenny felt so bad!

End of the Year

2009 has been a wonderful and joyous year. Foremost, we welcomed our lovely daughter, Zaeda, in late May. Both she and her older brother are growing, healthy and happy kids. Oliver constantly reveals himself to be a child of great imagination and humor. (Daddy, I want to tell you a joke: Why do sharks like to walk? Because monkeys like to pull them!”) Given her level of vocalization, we think Zaeda will be a real talker. I can’t wait to hear what she’ll say!



The year started a bit rough; in January, I was laid off from Renaissance Learning where I’d worked for ten years. The company handled letting a number of people go as gently as they could, I suppose. The real shock of losing your job is more than a financial change, it’s a social one. After going to the same building and seeing the same people, many close friends, for years and years, I suddenly didn’t have that structure to shape my days. Of course my friends from Renaissance remain good friends. I was supremely fortunate to have a network of people supporting me as I searched for work. Despite being pregnant, Jenny never seemed worried and she really kept my spirits up. Luckily my unemployment only lasted a few months. In May (the week before Zaeda was born!) I joined Kaplan Test Prep. Since then, I’ve been slowly learning the business of test preparation, enjoying the experience and learning from the challenges. I work downtown not far from Jenny which allows us to put the kids in daycare near our offices. Most days we commute in and out of the city all together.

In October, Oliver turned three. His language has developed to the point where his personality, his questions and assertions and dreams are clearer every day. He tells full stories. He makes up songs. He recollects the past and discusses the future. Gradually, he’s picking up the rules of language. “Yesterday” can mean last week or months ago. He knows the word “die” because I often have to tell him, when he’s asked me why a toy no longer blinks and chirps, that the batteries have died. Recently he brought me a flashlight that didn’t work and asked me, “Daddy, did I die the batteries?”

The dynamics of a 2-child house are so much harder than with one. First, Zaeda is developing manual dexterity, picking up objects in each hand and banging them together, lunging and snatching at things, and putting everything she can in her mouth. That worries us most. When Oliver was at this stage, it was so much easier to keep all small choking hazards out of his reach. But with Zaeda, we must clear and monitor a zone in a wide sea of small objects. Like the kid on the Morton’s salt ad dribbling a trail of salt behind, Oliver constantly drops little things his sister might choke on – car wheels, buttons, pennies, legos, cootie legs and other anonymous plastic doo-dads forever separated from some larger toy. I enjoy vacuuming those up. No one misses them.

Second, the kids don’t nap at the same time. If baby Oliver drifted off, we made the house silent and tip-toed past him as we used that precious time. When baby Zaeda drifts off, she must do so while her brother is marching, and shrieking and banging all around her.

Santa Claus, the man, the myth, the threat

As the parents of a willful 3 year old, we’re always looking for tools of persuasion. Seldom do we know whether Oliver will be the little helper who does whatever you ask or “Doctor No” who refuses to do anything and everything. We meet “Doctor No” often enough that Jenny and I have a small arsenal of positive and negative reinforcements we call on to keep him in line. Positive rewards include candy, a chance to watch his favorite show, or permission to open an umbrella in the house. We have a small cardboard box in the high shelf in his room where he can see but not touch it. It’s the “Good Boy Box” and in it is a collection of random things Jenny and I have found in old boxes or drawers or at the dollar store. In rare cases, we use this box to encourage extra good behavior.

Negative reinforcement goes like this: “… then we’re turning the TV off” or “well Oliver, we’re all getting dressed and getting in the car, so you’ll be by yourself. Good bye!”

This year, we brought up Santa Claus as the all-seeing, all-knowing entity that puts little boys on one list or another. We frequently invoked his name. We reminded him that if he was good, he’d get presents. It worked well at first, but we started too early; the threat/promise of Santa came up in November and it was too long to maintain before the magic day. Eventually, his attitude sometimes lapsed into “so what?” eventually leading us to pick up the phone to speak with St. Nick directly about Oliver’s status on the list. Sometimes the prospect of getting no presents genuinely upset him. Other times it wasn’t enough to shift him from his not-gonna-do-it stand.

As it turns out Oliver got everything he asked for and then some. He now believes that either he was very good or that he just barely worked himself onto the right list in the nick of time.

One thing Jenny and I found surprising this year was Oliver’s consistent description of what he wanted. For months his Christmas list didn’t change: a helicopter, a boat, an airplane, and a tractor. These four objects were all he asked for. On Christmas morning, when he saw them arranged on a new table we’d bought for the kids, he declared it “The Best Christmas Ever!” The lucky kid didn’t know how much else he had coming! (thanks to the loving grandparents, aunts, uncles and friends who spoil our kids so well.)

I wonder how it’ll go next year. Will Oliver's expectations be higher? At least Zaeda should be more fun to shop for next year. This year she got lots of clothes (I dunno – maybe girls like that stuff?) but not so many toys. She’s still getting a lot of pleasure out of the baby toys we’d put away from a few years ago.

Some goals for 2010 include helping Oliver master the toilet, helping Zaeda learn to walk & talk, and making a dent a thousand little home improvement/repair projects.

Zaeda with her great-grandmother Zada.