Jones is 18 Months Old, or, What's Going on with Jones in October!

Jones is 18 months old!

Wearing his Razorback shirt - we're true fans, through and through!

At 18 months, Jones:

• Weighs 26 pounds and 13 ounces (I know this is accurate because we had a trip to the doctor for a well-baby checkup and our last round of shots). Truthfully, this surprised me. I thought he weighed closer to thirty pounds, as did everyone else in our family. He's quite the lug to be carrying around!
• Is 33 inches tall. I asked Dr. H, "So, Dr. H., is he going to be tall? His six-foot-five-inch daddy wants to know?!" Dr. H did some calculations and he said at this rate, we're looking at 6'1" or so. Then he asked me, "Wait, did your husband get taller after he turned 18?" Of course, I didn't know. I came home and asked Alan and he told me that both he and his (also tall) brother Patrick both grew taller after they were 18. So, I think he'll be tall like Daddy, and Grandpa and PePaw and Uncle Patrick. Not really a surprise, but I am kind of shorty, and you never know where kids will fall in the gene pool.
• Wears size 18 - 24 months clothes, but only for the length. His size 12 months shorts still fit him around the waist :o). He has a pair of size 18-24 month jeans that are way big on him in the waist. He was running around the house the other day, and the jeans just kept sagging further and further down his little bottom. Finally, he stopped, sat down, and started pulling off the pants - it was pretty funny! You could see him thinking, "Dang these pants! Slowing me down!"
• Wears a size 4 diaper.
• Wears a size 5 shoe, and some size 6, but they are kind of big on him - he walks out of them after awhile. Jones is not a big fan of shoes, in general.

He's crying/throwing a fit because he wants the camera - we go through this frequently when I try to take pictures of him ... you have to be quick on the draw to get a good one, or all you'll get is pics like this, or pics of an extreme close-up of Jones, since he runs toward you to try and get the camera.

• Loves to be outside, and has figured out how the door handles in our house work. He cries if you go outside without him (like to put water in the dog bowls or some other such chore). The last time Alan mowed the yard, he sat and watched him from the windows, and ran through the house to keep Alan in his sights as he went back and forth across the lawn. So sweet.

Playing on the porch at Grammy and Papa's!  He would go up the steps and down the steps, and liked for Grammy and I to count as he went up and down, or say the words "up" and "down" as he did it.

• Has lost interest in his food. He's just too busy to care about eating. He's not picky, he just doesn't really care about eating anything. He still really likes spinach, broccoli, and mashed potatoes - he's really very good with all vegetables. He loves salmon, which I think might be a little weird, but he'll eat an entire salmon fillet on his own, if you let him. Oh, and he loves French fries (who doesn't?).
• Loves to drink through a straw, especially Mommy's straw. Still working on not squeezing all of the juice out of the juice box, though.
• Has 12 teeth, I think, and detests brushing them with every fiber of his being. Not even the Sesame Street toothbrush and toothpaste can persuade him. It's exhausting, and currently requires both Alan and I to actually get the job done (one to hold him in place, one to brush). He likes to hold the toothbrush in his hand, but he does not like to brush his teeth with it. He more prefers to wield it as a weapon.
• Is talking more and more, but you can't understand a word he says, for the most part. This month, we've added "thank you" and "sock" and "shoe" and "car" and "pig" that I can think of for sure. We were up in the country the other day and my grandparents have lots of horse stuff around; Jones kept pointing at this one particular picture and I said, repeatedly, "Yes, that's a horsey. The horsey says, 'neigh!'" He kept pointing at it and several other things in the room until Grammy said, "Yes, there are horseys in those pictures too!" Jones looked quite pleased, so I think he was doing it on purpose. Then I asked him, "What does the horsey say?" and he said, "Neigh!" So cute.
• Is a good sleeper and a poor napper. He naps once a day now, and then only for about an hour. He sleeps through the night like a champ though, so I really can't complain.
• Is still a paci baby. Dr. H. and I discussed it; he said now is the time to start thinking about weaning him from it. I told him that Jones is about to move up to a new room at day care, and I have been told that they will probably try to break him of the paci. Like I told Dr. H., "Good luck with that!" Dr. H. laughed in agreement, but he did say that day cares have a way of getting children to do things that their parents can't, so we'll see. He also told me his tried and true method for breaking the paci, and we're definitely going to try it out - I'll report back on here ... I don't know when I'm going to start, honestly. The paci is so easy right now, and still so helpful, and, honestly, he's still a baby!  He's only 18 months old!  I think we can hang on to the paci for a little longer without any permanent damage.  It's not like he's about to start kindergarten :o).
• Is moving up in the world - into a big boy car seat! Forward facing! Like my dad said, "So now he can see where he's going, instead of where he's been." He lllllloves the new seat. He's all smiles, and talking and pointing and looking around. He could still have ridden in the rear-facing infant seat - he was well under the weight guideline for it, but he was getting too long for it and had started fussing when we put him in it, so we decided to go ahead and make the switch, and it was definitely the right thing to do.

• Is our joy, in every way :o).

 

 

The Bad Cat Returns, or, Welcome Home Clyde!

The Prodigal Cat returns!

Clyde went to live with Richard and Betty last summer after some post-Jones drama.  He, for reasons that are still unknown to anyone and everyone, began using the bathroom outside of the litter box.  It was bad.  Very stressful for everyone.  More than we could handle with a newborn baby in the house.  And stinky.  Very, very stinky (there's nothing in the world that smells the way that cat pee smells ... trust me on that one).  So, Betty very sweetly offered to take Clyde on as a boarder.  He lived like a king for the last year, and Richard and Betty grew to love him (he is very lovable ... when he's not being bad ... like peeing in any place other than the litter box). 

Living like a king in NLR!

When we finally were able to pull up the carpet in the house and stain the concrete, we made arrangements for Clyde to come home, and in July, Clyde came back.  He was very standoffish at first (holding a grudge, it seems) and spent a lot of time hiding under the bed (probably plotting his escape back to NLR), but he's warmed back up to us - he's sitting in between Alan and I right now as I type this!  My new joke (although, honestly, I'm actually pretty serious about it) is that Clyde went to rehab at the Betty Ward Clinic and came back a new cat.

Jones is still trying to figure out what, exactly, Clyde is.  Is he a funny looking dog? Some sort of very life-like stuffed animal?  Clyde, in turn, is also trying to figure out where Jones came from.  They had a stand-off the other day. Alan witnessed it and said you could clearly tell that both of them were thinking, "What the heck is that?!"  Jones has learned to say, "cat", too, and the other morning he was eating breakfast and Clyde sauntered into the room to sit in the window and get the good sun,and Jones looked over and then looked at me and pointed and said, "kitty cat" (again, it was super garbled, but that's definitely what he was saying - I repeated, "Yes, kitty cat" to him and he looked quite pleased with himself.)!  He still calls him "dog" a lot though (pretty much every animal we come across is a dog, at least in Jones' world view).

After Clyde really got used to being back with us, I held him one day and let him meet Jones "officially".  I was really pleased with how well Clyde handled it (cats have a mind of their own, you know, so you can never tell how they are going to react to stuff ...).  I held him to my chest and squatted down and let Jones pet him, encouraging him to be "careful" and "gentle", and giving examples on how best to pet a cat.  Clyde stayed very still the whole time.  I think he was a bit nervous since Jones' petting is a little forceful, and he has a tendency to kind of smack instead of pet, and he likes to grab (especially soft things, like fur), but I also think he understood that Jones wouldn't hurt him (or that I wouldn't let Jones hurt him).  At one point, he turned his little cat face toward my neck and pressed his nose into my collarbone pretty hard - I could hear him breathing quite clearly.  It was like he was saying, "Okay, hold on now, just a little longer, you can make it, just a little longer, don't look, don't look, don't look, just a little longer."  So I let Jones pet him a couple more times after that and then released him back into the wild.  Clyde, since the initial encounter, is still very curious about Jones, but not curious enough to risk getting caught by him.  I catch him sauntering around, sticking his head around the corner in Jones' room, and into the dining room when we are feeding him, but if Jones sees him, he always books it back to our room and under the bed, usually with Jones in hot pursuit.  He has better luck when Jones is sleeping.

He also is very interested in Jones' room, I think because it gets the best sun in the house and is the warmest room in the house.  I don't let him in there, though, because it's carpeted and we all know that Clyde can't be trusted where carpet is concerned.  This, of course, makes him even more interested in the room.  He waits for me outside the door of the room every night when I put Jones to sleep.  I think it's sweet.

We are all glad to have the Bad Cat back, even Alan (although you would be hard-pressed to get him to admit such a thing) - I've seen him secretly petting Clyde when he thinks no one is looking.

A Visit to the Country, or, The Wards Go to Van Buren County

Last weekend we took a little day trip to my grandparents' place up in Scotland, Van Buren County.  The weather was so nice, and Alan needed to refill the corn feeders (Scotland is his deer camp, and I have to say, it's probably the best deer camp ever, seeing as you have Grammy meals when you stay there, and Grammy meals = heaven).  We had a great time, as evidenced by all of the pictures that I took!

I can't lie - part of my excitement for this trip was having Jones wear these precious boots!



We saw 2 deer - Jones was very interested - he said, "dog?"

Guarding the deer corn!

All sorts of buttons and fun stuff in the Ranger!

Very curious about what, exactly, Daddy is doing



Hmmmmmmm ....

Nature Boy!

Trying to figure out what a corn feeder is, and what its purpose is ...

Deep in thought:

Everybody loves the Ranger!

A trip to the country always makes for the best day!