The Sandbox

We spend most of our days this summer at the park or in the back yard. Both boys love to be outside, which Travis and I hope to encourage. Noah just got a sandbox earlier this week (5x5 feet, made by papa Sam) and is in heaven. However, he noticed that with the appearance of the sandbox, all of his pacifiers disappeared. Strange how that happens. He still asks for them at nap time, but when we remind him that they're all gone he tells us that big boys can play in sandboxes, while babies who have pacifiers at nap time can't.

So, technically, Caleb is not allowed in the sandbox. And as it turns out, there was more wisdom in that rule than I knew when I tried to explain why the new sandbox meant no more pacifiers. Caleb loves to eat sand. He will sit innocently and play, patting the sand and rubbing his hands through it. Suddenly and without warning the takes a fistful and plunges it into his mouth. He is quick like a cobra and there is no predicting his behavior, so I try to keep him out of the sandbox.

The problem with this, naturally, is that there is no other place Caleb would like to be. As I carry him around the patio, he plunges toward the sandbox, trying to leap out of arms and into the sand. I'm not sure I can even put him down outside anymore. When I do, he waddles as fast as he can and climbs over the edge, screaming bloody murder if I try to pull him back or interest him in chasing down a ball. Only one other activity can distract him: pulling up the marigolds Noah and I planted next to the house.

John Deere

Noah's favorite movie right now isn't exactly a movie...nor is it television show. When he wants to watch TV he asks me to put in the John Deere tractors DVD. What is so odd about this DVD? It's a commercial: a promotional DVD sent to my Uncle Ken, (who, incidentally, epitomizes all farmers in Noah's eyes) meant to promote the 9030 series Tractor with pictures of the engine, information about improvements in stability and horsepower, and a demonstration of the three-way hitch. For a time, this 20 minute video was often being played on one and two hour loops in our home as Noah played. Not that he was even watching the television, so much as he just liked to have it on as background. I, on the other hand, was being driven mad.

As a compromise solution, my cousin gave me 5 different videos of live action John Deere "educational" shows which talk about the history of John Deere machinery (including Noah's favorite, the Johnny Poppers) and their functions today. The shows are ostensibly aimed at children, but they are odd to watch. For example, they spend time talking about old tractor restoration techniques and spend time not only on harvesting, bulldozing, and tilling, but also on John Deere collectible toys. I feel as though we are living in a John Deere dealership. These new videos give me some variety, and are undoubtedly better than the 20 minute commercial. However, I have found it necessary to cap our John Deere time to an hour a day. This is a very difficult compromise for Noah, but I worry that more than an hour a day would force me to eventually drive a John Deere bulldozer into our television.

I am a manipulative Mom...and I don't even feel guilty about it.  Last night we were sitting down to dinner as my mom was on her way to our house.  Of course, with grandma on her way, I wanted to get Noah to eat some vegtables before he was showered in treats.  "Noah, eat two peas and grandma will come to our house," I told him, knowing full well that she only had 10 minutes left of her hour and a half drive.  Excited, he downed two peas.  Pleased with my progress, I told him, "The more peas you eat, the faster grandma will get here."  It worked, but now my son thinks that his pea consumption somehow impacts the speed limit.  However, I don't feel too bad...my mother-in-law (and many other adults I know) believe that yelling at the television can impact a football game, so these types of delusions seem widespread.  I, myself, believe that sleeping makes time move faster. 
 

Mail call!

Noah loves mail. We are fortunate enough to get our mail delivered into our home via a slot in the door. When the mail comes Noah runs to it and cheers, "mail, mail!" Then he'll bring me any colorful pieces and inform me, "I got mails for Noah Samuelson," and proceed to open it. This is fine as long as it is one of our numerous pieces of junk mail, but one of these days...I just hope nothing important ends up ruined. Especially since much of "Noah's mail" requires him to write back with crayon on the same letter he just opened.

Caleb is advancing SO quickly. Of course, moms and dads are biased, but he crawls everywhere and sits down unassisted. I'm not sure that many 6 month old kids are doing the same. Also, I would consider Caleb to be the happiest baby I have ever met...though my perspective may be skewed since Noah was quite fussy the first few months. As long as he is rested and fed, Caleb has a smile on his face and is ready to laugh.

Caleb has also started yelling at us. It's rather endearing, in fact. He will be playing as I am making dinner and suddenly start shrieking. When I look over, he is grinning at me and then he just chatters away in his baby language. He started doing it the other day as I was holding him on the couch and Travis and Noah were playing nearby. Caleb looked over at his dad and started jumping and shrieking until Travis looked at him. Now that he knows he can get our attention, he'll yell at us with abandon until we acknowledge him. He is certainly social, but then again perhaps he simply knows that sometimes he has to compete with big brother.

First Teeth!

Caleb, our mover and shaker, has erupted two teeth in the last week. Along with these teeth he's hit another milestone as I have started feeding him some vegetables with our dinner. Caleb's thrilled about this. If we happen to be eating as we hold him he tracks our food as we eat it, watching with an open mouth, leaning toward the spoon, grabbing at it, making mealtimes very messy. So now he has his own little meals (he eats sans clothing, so I don't run out of stain remover) as we all eat dinner together.

Noah has also tried to get into the act. I caught him trying to share his juice the other morning as I made my coffee. I looked over and Caleb was in the exer-saucer with a straw in his mouth as Noah held up the juice box for him. It's like they are in cahouts. Last week Noah took a chicken finger to the coffee table and left it there as I was clearing the table in the dining room. When I came back from dropping off dishes in the kitchen I found Caleb gnawing on the chicken finger. The little sneak had crawled over to the coffee table, pulled himself up, grabbed the chicken and began gnawing away. Of course, when I exclaimed, "Caleb, what..?" he turned and lost his balance. The left-over chicken went to Henry and I had to explain to Noah (for the hundredth time) that he can't leave his food on the coffee table. Caleb...well, he had a guilty look on his face, but as far a lectures go, I decided to save my breath for his teenage years.