Rulers are our new fave

Recent conversations:


Elliott: Mom, where's my blue thing wis the numbers?
Me: Which blue thing?
E: The on wis the numbers.
M: What thing with numbers?
E:The blue one!
M: I don't know what you are talking about.
E: I'm talking about the blue thing!
M: What else do you use it for?
E: It's the blue thing....that measures...
M: Oh the ruler. It's on the back of the couch, wrapped in a sock.
E: Oh! There it is!

Stumbling out of his bedroom at 7:15 a.m.:
E: Hey mom, how long did you sleep?
M: I don't know, buddy, I guess about 9 hours.
E: I sleeped this long (holds up a ruler and points to the five inch mark). Is that a long time?
David: should we explain the difference between length and time?
M: oh, please not yet.

12 weeks

Today I had my second midwife appointment, and baby and I are both doing pretty well so far. I was officially 12 weeks along last Friday, and aside from a 24-hour bout of morning sickness, this pregnancy has been much easier on me so far. With Elliott I was super duper sick for the first five months or so, and I haven't really thrown up this time. I have felt very, very tired and lazy, and I get teary at silly things on the tv. I look more pregnant in the evenings than in the mornings, but so far I can get most of my pants to button up still.


Elliott seems to be pretty unfazed by the whole ordeal, although I am considerably less fun to play with because of the baby in my tummy. Sometimes he plays along and says he has a baby in his tummy too.


According to the pregnancy books and websites the baby is somewhere between the size of a lemon and the size of a peach. My only cravings are cheesy foods and cold snacks (popsicles, coconut snow cones, ice cream).

I decided not to use the hospital here and sought out another midwife, making the hospital I will deliver at about 50 miles away (yikes). I love the midwife and am happy with my decision, but have found that the hospital we had Elliott at was a lot more crazy-hippie-friendly than the hospitals in Tulsa are. I toured our hospital's labor and delivery floor and immediately outed myself as a weirdo, I guess. When the nurse who gave the tour explained that about an hour after birth they take the baby to the nursery for a bath and normal procedures I immediately objected.

"I don't want my baby taken out of my room."
"Oh, well we just normally clean them up and get you settled in the post-partum room..."
"I understand, but I don't want my baby taken away from me unless there is a medical need. Can't you do the bath in our room? Or just wait?"
"....(uncomfortable look)...We'd have to check."

Apparently no one really questions hospital protocol here. Of all the hospitals in the Tulsa metro area, this one is the only one with a tub to labor in (a proven method of coping with labor pains) and the lady said in all the time she had worked there she had only seen two people use it. In Ann Arbor, the rooms with the labor tubs were so coveted that they recently remodeled the whole labor and delivery unit so there would be more tubs available. Aside from that, the unit was lovely and I think we can make it work (so long as I can survive the drive there).

We just picked up some fresh eggs from a neighbor. I thought it would be an interesting experience for ell. But this is not about the eggs. Our story picks up in the car on the way home from buying the eggs, when Elliott tells me in a steadily rising voice, "Oh no, where are my flowers?"

I, of course, have no idea what he is talking about. " I picked some flowers and put them in my pocket but they're gooooone! And they were ( his little hands covered his mouth in horror) for yooooouuu!". I tried to reassure him that it was such a sweet thing to do and that we can find some more, but he was still starting to cry a little. As I pulled into our parking space, I notice the park by our house is full of dandelions, and he was pacified by those. He ran over to where the were growing, plucked two, and handed them to me.

"Thank you Elliott!. They are beautiful. Let's take hem inside and put them in a vase."

He takes them back from me and says, "no, let's put them in my pocket.". And that's where he shoves them, and where they still remain.

Concentration

This has been happening all day. He says he is mowing the grass. What he is actually doing is cutting strips of paper over and over, only taking a break to grab a tissue and blow his nose. The only thing you are missing is the loud mouth breathing that happens when he is really concentrating.

Making little boys happy

Tonight Ell asked for dessert, and the remains of the pumpkin cake that we had last nights were polished off by the dog (who steals food whenever he can). So I remembered a trick I read a long time ago on a website called Pinterest. For people watching their weight or sugar, you take a frozen banana and some cocoa powder and blend them together and voila! Chocolate ice cream! David doesn't hate it, but me and Ell are big fans. I've seen it with a little vanilla extract too, but it tastes pretty banana-ey.



We demolished it. Yum.

When he knows I'm only halfway paying attention

Earlier Elliott and I sat down and he water painted while I messed around on my computer. I was pretty engrossed in whatever I was reading, and I could tell instead of narrating his painting, he had apparently asked me a question that I hadn't heard. "my eyes are beautiful, momma? My eyes are beautiful?" Now, Ell has very pretty blue eyes, and he has been told this a time or two and has started to comment on other peoples eyes lately, so I thought nothing of this comment. If I'm honest with you, I said "Mmhmm" without looking up at all. That was a mistake, however. "my eyes are beautiful, momma! My eyes are beautiful?" then I finally looked up at him, perhaps a bit exasperated. And I see this.

Randomness from ell

Lately, these are how all of Elliott's goodbyes go:

Elliott: "Okay, Mom, I'm leaving. See you later!". Shuts door for .25 seconds then opens it again. "Bon appetit! Bon appetit, mom! Bon appetit!"
Me, finally: "okay, buddy, Bon appetit!"
Ell: leaves

I couldn't begin to tell you where this came from or why he thinks it means goodbye.