Archive for October, 2008

The end of life as we knew it.

Friends, it has finally happened. The thing I’ve pined for, obsessed over, hoped for for more than five years has finally come to fruition.

We got our fence, and it is a thing of beauty.

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As many of you know, because we live on a corner lot, we do not have a proper back yard. Instead, the big block of open space on our lot is next to our house and exposed to the sidewalk, street, and gazing eyes of neighbors and passers-by. Because of this, we’ve never been able to let Otto or Thomas have much free reign in our yard, since it’s so easy for them to get away and run to the street. Hence my long and burning desire for a fence. But precisely because it is so exposed, we have never felt like we could put up a chain-link fence, since that’s just a little too ugly, in my opinion, to have as the most prominent feature of the part of our yard exposed to public view. We’ve had to save our pennies, then, for this cedar fence which, in my opinion, is both aesthetically and functionally beautiful.

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Witness the loose dog in this photo. He has not been outdoors off-leash for close to five years, since in moments of squirrel-/bike-/child-/mailman-induced excitement he cannot be trusted to obey or come on command.

He cannot believe his luck today. When I first brought him outside, he was suspicious. He looked at me like, “what’s going on, food lady?” He proceeded to circle the perimeter, looking for invaders or possible venues for escape, I suppose. But once he decided things were okay, he morphed into dog-on-crack and began racing around the yard, frenzied and erratic. He would run up to me and play-bow, trying to get me to chase him, but of course I can’t run fast enough to make it worth his while. He fetched his ball longer than I’ve ever seen him stay focused on anything. After a while, I felt like going inside, and I called him to come with me. He did not budge. So I went inside anyway, and when I looked back out the window, he stood still for a moment, clearly thinking, “wait a minute, this is POSSIBLE? I can stay out here ALONE?” Then he ran off to resume his squirrel patrol.

He is a tired and happy dog.

The boy is no less happy, but he was almost as perpetual in his motion as Otto was in his, so I didn’t get any good action shots. You can see in the middle of the yard the remains of our once-huge silver maple tree, now reduced to a three-foot high and six-foot wide mound of mulch. (That is a story unto itself, and I will try to post about it sometime soon.) Thomas calls the pile of mulch a mountain and likes to run up and then barrel down. He only falls about half of the time, but he seems to have fun regardless of whether he falls. He is also pleased with his easy access to the new climber I picked up from Craigs’ List a few weeks ago.

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As you can see, the yard feels fairly big, which sort of surprised me because I thought maybe the fence would have the opposite effect. I am pleasantly surprised.

In the back of the house we chose a taller and fancier style to provide some privacy from our neighbor’s house, which is just about 10 feel away on the other side of the fence.

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I am IN LOVE with this fence. If only I had another $7,000 I could have put it around the entire yard. As it is, I only had enough mulah to put up the 7 panels you see here.

Now, imagine that rather than the dead plants and dirty concrete, this section of the yard were covered with a low deck. That’s our plan for the spring. I am spending quite a bit of time daydreaming about sitting on my deck and sipping margaritas. Mmmm.

At any rate, I think it turned out very nicely, and judging by the fact that we were out there for more than an hour last night even though the temperature was in the high 30s, I think we’ll be getting a fair amount of use out of the fence even before spring.

Huzzah!

The boy loves boots.

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And footballs.

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I like it that he has one boot that is way too small and one that is way too big. I also like it that he has them on the right feet.

Whose idea was it, I wonder,

to make a refrigerator with an in-the-door water dispenser but withOUT a way to lock the dispenser so a two-year-old can’t use it to fill his teacups and subsequently pour water all over the floor?

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Also, on a related note, I wonder whose idea it was to put a real drain-hole into the sink in a child’s pretend kitchen?

You may see where this is going. He said, “I am washing the teapot!! I am washing the teapot!!”

Sadly (or happily, maybe), I don’t have any pictures of that one.

Apologies and a story about overcoming obstacles.

Well. It’s been so long at this point that I’m not even sure how to start up again. Probably nobody’s even checking here anymore. I didn’t mean to abandon the blog. In fact, I’ve thought of things to write about almost daily. But there was a little thing standing in the way of the actual writing: Thomas has been on a month-and-a-half sleep strike.

It all started on the day that he figured out how to defeat all three of my major containment devices.

Will had been out of town all week so Thomas and I were going it alone. By the end of the week, I really REALLY just wanted to take a shower by myself, so I thought I would just bring Thomas’ high chair into the bathroom, strap him in, fill up the sink, and let him splash with some measuring cups while I took a nice, hot shower and kept an eye on him. Good idea, right? I mean, look:

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This is an old picture, but it clearly demonstrates the beauty of this chair: its five-point harness.

So I got in the shower, started washing my hair, and noticed that he was drinking from one of the measuring cups. I became slightly grossed out, since I hadn’t cleaned the sink for a while, and I do draw some sort of line between splashing in possibly-dirty bathroom-sink water and actually drinking it. I mean come on. I do have some sort of standards around here.

So naturally, I jumped out of the shower and drained the water from the sink, figuring he’d just have to sit there for a couple of minutes. I encouraged him to play drums by banging the measuring cups on the sink. Shivering, I jumped back in the lovely hot shower and began rinsing my hair. A minute later I looked over and see that Thomas had deftly turned around backwards and was looking at me while STANDING UP ON HIS CHAIR. The five-point harness had been defeated.

I decided that he’d just have to play in his room for a couple of minutes while I finished my shower. I jumped out once again, and, naked and dripping, I scooped Thomas up and carried him out of the bathroom and into his bedroom, conveniently located right next door. I closed and made sure to latch the expensive baby gate and jumped back in the shower, leaving the bathroom door and Thomas’ door open so I could hear if he did anything really crazy.

Less than a minute later, just after I had once again re-acclimated to my luxuriously steamy imaginary spa, I heard a little voice and saw Thomas standing right there in the bathroom. The baby gate had ben defeated.

Well, I thought, he’ll just have to sit in his crib for a minute. Covered in conditioner and body wash, I leaped out once again, grabbed my little houdini, and placed him in his crib. I was positive I’d have at least a couple of minutes before he got really mad about it, since he had a bunch of books and toys in there to entertain him.

Literally thirty seconds later Thomas burst into the bathroom and said (I am not making this up): “Uh-oh, Mommy. I climbed out!” The crib, and Mommy, and Mommy’s dream of a pleasant and uninterrupted 8-minute shower, had all been defeated. It would have been better to have taken him in with me in the first place.

Once he figured out how to climb out of the crib, he had to do it ALL THE TIME. Bedtime became a three-hour battle. Naptime too. In the middle of the night he could even climb out without being fully awake. Of course we had to convert the crib to a toddler bed to avoid a middle-of-the-night groggy fall. But the conversion only made his nighttime excursions even easier.

In the last few days we seem to have turned the corner, but it’s been a struggle. Most nights I’ve spent the time between 7:30 and 10:00 working on getting him to sleep, and by then, my friends, it’s MY bedtime. Hence no blogging. And very little laundry. Or dishwashing. Or bathroom-sink-cleaning, for that matter. It’s been rough, and to be honest, it’s probably been one of the biggest tests of my patience as a parent, a test that I have not passed with marks as high as I’d like.

But as I said, I think we may be rounding the corner. We’re to the point now where usually when he gets out of bed, he stays in his room. Sometimes when we hear him padding around in there we’ll say to each other very loudly, “Uh-oh, Daddy, I hope that Thomas hasn’t gotten out of his bed. If he has we’ll have to close the door, and we know Thomas doesn’t like that.” We usually hear him stop what he’s doing and say either, “No!” or “Uh-oh!” or “Yes, I am got out of my bed, Mommy!” But he almost always takes the hint and climbs back in bed.

If it turns out that this is indeed a trend towards happier sleep for everyone, I’ll probably share with you what’s worked and what hasn’t. But in the meantime, just cross your fingers or say a little prayer for us, will you?

Night-night!


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