One Nap, Two Nap, No Nap...Please Nap?

He had me fooled. I thought that Eamon Wolfe (my child; see every other blog post) knew what he was doing. He seemed pretty competent and reliable about this whole "being a small child" thing.

If the books and the milestone charts said that he should be sitting up around 5 months, he sat up around 5 months. He was never early, and rarely late. If the books said to crawl around 7 months, he showed zero proclivity to do so until 7 months on the dot. We excused him on the talking aspect, though, because of the tongue-tie thing, and he is doing his best to make up ground on that particular aspect.

But now we've found something else, another area in which Eamon has obviously not done any research because he's doing it all wrong: napping.

Eamon? Has anyone seen Eamon? Where are you, Eamon?!

First of all, he's running late. Most books say that around 18 months most kids will start to go from two naps to one nap. Well, 18 months came and went and Eamon just kind of ignored that particular milestone. We briefly attempted it one weekend, during which he was a cranky, irritable, whiny mess. After a quick conference with all concerned, we came to consensus that we would let Eamon take the lead on this one and let us know when he was ready for just one nap a day.

So 18 months became 19, which rolled into 20, which stretched into 21, which meandered into 22, which is where we are now. And Eamon is finally, finally, starting to edge towards only 1 nap a day.

But here's the problem: IT'S THE WRONG NAP.

WAIT! What's that in the curtains? Is that...a little boy?!

See, according to "the experts" (good for them, they published a book), the kid is supposed to give up the MORNING NAP, and then move towards 1 MIDDLE OF THE DAY NAP. But Eamon? He is confused, and is instead trying to still take his morning nap from 9-11ish, and then wants to give up the afternoon nap. This means that he is trying to stay up from 11-7, and folks, quite frankly, my perfect fabulous little munchkin of joy and happiness disappears somewhere around hour 5 1/2 and becomes the evil gnome of doom and misery and cranky-pantsedness.

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And yes, we've discussed the idea of putting him down earlier around 6...but then he sleeps for 11 hours and is up around 5AM, and that is NOT A VIABLE OPTION.

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I have sat Eamon down. I have had this discussion. I've attempted to show him charts and graphs explaining why we cannot keep the morning nap as it is and just give up our afternoon nap, but it's not getting through to him. When I ask him whether he understands, I usually just get answers like "SHOCKS!" as he attempts to take off his socks, or "DOH!" because he wants to open the door and go outside. It almost makes me think that he's not even paying attention.

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I'm not really sure what to do here. I get that he's inexperienced at the whole "life" thing, but he's not taking any of my suggestions seriously on this one. I think I am going to have to put him on a Plan of Action, and that this might just be one of those dilemmas that we have to work on consisently over the course of many weeks or, Lord help us, many months to solve. I have every confidence that, as a team, we can all work through it together and find a solution and suits everyone's needs.

There you are, Eamon! By the way, don't forget that your Annual Performance Review is coming up in December.

The Friendly Lion Who Hates Things on His Head

There was a Great Halloween Debate this year about whether we should even take Eamon trick-or-treating.

Point the first: Eamon doesn't like sweet things. So why bother going knocking door-to-door to ask for some?

Point the second: Eamon really likes people. And doors (don't ask me why; he's 22 months old and that should be reason enough). So maybe he would enjoy trick-or-treating?

Point the third: Eamon doesn't understand "dressing up." So why bother?

Point the fourth: But Eamon really likes lions and he picked out his own lion costume.

Point the fifth: With all other things being equal, eh, why not?

So out we went. We went first thing while it was still light and before the inevitable late evening crankiness. Eamon put on his costume easily enough, though was a little upset when I undressed him from his regular day clothes and then would not let him take a bath (why else would I undress him in the evening?) He would not, however, put on the hood that actually made him look like a lion, rather than just a very cute little boy in a furry yellow jumpsuit.

We did manage one picture with the hood up. One picture.




We then set out on our sojourn. We decided to just try 2 or 3 houses and then head back, but our plan was quickly amended when it turned out that Eamon.Loved.Trick.or.Treating.

On so many walks previously, he desired nothing more than to go up to every door with cries of "Door! Door!" If anyone was out on their lawn during these walks, he wanted to meet them, to let them fawn over him, and could not understand why we were were against the idea of him introducing himself to the neighborhood.



But this--this was The Walk He Had Been Waiting For. He got to go up to doors and knock. Or ring the doorbell, which was astoundingly fun and we had to remind him not to do 3 or 4 or 55 times per house.

And then, after he knocked or rang--the door would open! And people would appear! And they would tell him how adorable he was! And they would give him things!!!!

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(Side note: he did not understand what they were giving him or why, but he understood that the getting was good--and gosh darn it, he wanted those packages of things, whatever the heck they were).

After awhile, he seemed to grasp the idea of "candy" as an abstract concept. He knew that it was something to be "eaten" and much of the time he was not winning the adoration of complete strangers was spent attempting to "feed" the candy to his father. I think he thought of it kind of like his fake plastic food, though, rather than as actual edible objects.

After walking about 3 blocks, Eamon finally started to get tired...of walking, but not of Trick-or-Treating. We had a hard time convincing him that some houses were not participating; he was pretty sure that everyone wanted to meet the cute little mane-less lion. The only houses he didn't want to visit were the ones where the owners were dressed up themselves or had on masks. He didn't mind walking by costumed people as we went from house to house, but was determined not to take anything from anyone in a mask (probably not a bad life policy, come to that).

When we got home, Eamon immediately sat in the entry way and dumped out his bucket on the floor as if to take stock of his loot. He carefully surveyed every piece of candy...and then carefully put each piece back in the bucket. He then dumped the bucket again, put each piece back one by one, and continued in this way for a good 10 minutes. After awhile we decided that one or two pieces of candy wouldn't hurt him, so we sifted through and picked out something we thought he would like.

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First, I gave him some M&Ms. He took them suspiciously, like Jack's mother with the enchanted beans, and just held them in his hand. I then tried to convince him to eat one, which he did with a raised eyebrow like maybe his mother had lost her mind. Everything was going well into he bit into an M&M...and blanched like I had given him sawdust, then spit it right out and handed it to me. He could not be induced to eat another.

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Mind you, this is the child who eats raw lemons like they are apples.

So then we tried a lollipop. He took a few licks of that, but was quickly annoyed that he couldn't just eat it. He handed it to his father without a backwards glance.

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Okay. No chocolate, no lollipops. In a last ditch effort we decided to try some Swedish Fish, because who doesn't like Swedish Fish? And he ate one. Then two! Hotdog, we had finally found something! But the third got stuck on his tooth, as Swedish Fish are wont to do, and it freaked him out. Aaron had to pry the thing off Eamon's tooth and after that, Eamon was done with his foray into Halloween candy.

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Eamon took his bucket full of his prized possessions, dumped them into the large bowl of Halloween candy so I could give it all out to other Trick-or-Treaters, and went to watch Sesame Street on the computer with his father. Because, people, the real spirit of Halloween is not the candy...it is having people adore and fawn over you.

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And thus ended Eamon's First Real Halloween.

Hair

Eamon is strangely good at the barber's. For someone who cannot stand to sit still or wait patiently (let me tell you about our last trip to Busch Gardens when we looked like Those Parents with That Child), he politely climbs into the barber's chair and is surprisingly patient during the haircut. I've watched perfectly behaved five year olds in the waiting room turn into hellions during the haircut. But Eamon likes Ms. Alicia and therefore condescends to let her trim his hair as long as he can play with a comb.

On this last occasion, after having completely given up on ever getting his hair to part, I told my mom (they take him during the week because there are fewer people and therefore shorter waits) to just cut it short. In fact, I told her to get the same haircut that Aaron has because Eamon seems to have inherited his father's stubborn cowlicks (which combined with my coarse, ridiculously thick hair...ugh. Sorry, kiddo).

So, the haircut went off as planned, and Eamon came home with the same haircut as his father. It's a good haircut, but it definitely makes him look about 3 or 4, especially since he's so tall already. My favorite part of the haircut, though, was what happened when Eamon got home. Running around, he suddenly caught sight of himself in a mirror. He gasped, grabbed at his hair in shock, and shouted, "UH OH!"

The First Rule of Fight Club

KATE: (when asked about Eamon's current resemblance to Tyler Durden) ...and then Eamon grabbed the hanging light and swung down the stairs, narrowly missing the sword-wielding Ninjas just in time to fend off an attack from the Somalian pirate with a roundhouse kick and then running out into the street to save the house from the stampede of bulls that were accidentally let loose when the train that was transporting them collided with the toxic waste truck...

AARON: ...and that's when he tripped on the curb and scraped his nose.



Bah. Reality is overrated. If anyone asks, kid, you saved this house, the town, that bus of Japanese orphan tourists, and probably even the entire world with your quick actions and valor. You have our eternal gratitude, and we hereby crown you King of Everything.

And that is le fact.

(BTW, what exactly is your father trying to cover up with this "curb" story, anyway?")

The Reluctant Scholar

So, my mother, the retired pediatric nurse practioner, warned me that kids don't progress evenly. They tend to leap forward all at once, then just sit of chill and tread water for awhile (how's that for a mixed metaphor?). It's exciting during the leap periods and, if you're like me, a little worrisome during the chill periods.

Faithful readers (um, are there any? Maybe?) know that Eamon had his tongue and lip frenula clipped recently. He was tongue-tied, and it turned out that he was lip-tied, too, and wasn't saying much at all by 18 months of age. Maybe 1 or 2 words, and those weren't particularly consistent. He stopped babbling pretty much completely, and was totally resorting to sign language.

His pushy mother (you know, me) pushed for the tongue-release surgery. Within 2 weeks afterwards, Eamon started babbling a litle more and trying out new sounds. And then he kind of stopped again. And I worried. Had I put my child through pain and trauma for nothing? Was there something MORE wrong? Would he actually need speech therapy? I only really expressed these fears to my mother because I was afraid that everyone else would just dismiss my fears and tell me to be patient and just wait it out.



My mother didn't dismiss my fears, but she did tell me to be patient and wait until at least 2 before I started to really worry.

So we waited. I knew the lack of speech wasn't an autistic issue (the child looooves people, stimulus, and interaction). I was pretty sure it wasn't a processing issue because Eamon could follow directions just fine...when he wanted to. So I was okay (sort of) with just waiting it out.

And it paid off. So, good job there, Mom. In the past few weeks, Eamon has suddenly started speaking a lot more. His words aren't always entirely clear ("book" comes out "bk," for instance), but he is attempting all kinds of words. He's also gone back to babbling, trying out different sounds even if he can't use them in words ("p," "s," "l"). He know reliably says at least 15 words, with more being added every day. He still uses some of his sign language, but even attempts those words (the other day, I got a "peas" for "please").



The thing about Eamon, though, is that it can sometimes be hard to assess what he does and does not know because he has no interest in showing off. He seems to feel that if he knows it, and he knows that he knows it, why does he need to show anyone else? If you ask him to say a word (even one that it's been proven that he can say), he just shakes his head, smiles, and says "No." If he says something new, and you ask him to repeat it to make sure that he really did say it, he refuses. But he'll repeat it later when he feels like it, and you realize that he really did know it the whole time.

(Sometimes I get the feeling he thinks I am rather unintelligent because I keep asking him to repeat things. He gets this look on his face like, "What? Did you not get it the first time?")

But I'm pretty sure that he's pretty smart, whether he feels the need to show anyone or not. He loves counting and if I ask him to show one finger, he can. He won't do more, but I think it's more because he doesn't have the fine motor coordination yet to hold up 2. He understands the concept of three books before bed (protests if he doesn't get 3, but never expects more, jumping straight up to brush his teeth after the third book).



Also, the other day while reading with my mother, he pointed to the letter "O" and said "O." He then pointed to the letter "M" and said "mmmmm." He wouldn't do it again for her, but the next day I pointed to a magnetic letter O on our fridge and said, "What is that?" and he immediately said "O." He then pointed to the letter "E" and said "eeee."

I next asked him about the letter M but he just started yelling "No no no no no!" because, come on lady, how many of these stupid letters do you need me to say? I got the feeling that he thought I should know those letters; if I didn't, that wasn't his problem, and maybe I should be the one practicing.

Dear Mr./Mrs. X

As a teacher, I can't help but think about these things when I look at my little baby. I sometimes imagine the conversations and parent/teacher conferences I'm going to have one day regarding one Eamon Wolfe.

To the Future Teachers of Eamon,

Hi. This is Eamon.







Yes, he's very cute. Yes, he knows it.

He knows exactly how to use it, too. Whenever he pushes your limits, it's always with that devil may care smile and that twinkle in his eye. If you yell at him, he'll just smile even bigger, not because he thinks it's funny but because he knows that eventually, that 1000 watt smile will melt even the coldest heart.

So if you're trying to discipline him, it's probably best not to look at him while you do it.



There are some things that you need to know about Eamon.

First of all, he's very curious. And when I say "curious," I mean about EVERYTHING. You might be tempted to think he's hyper, the way that he runs to examine this, no this, no that, no this, around and around and around (for the record, we do feed him plenty; he stays so thin because he rarely stops moving). But don't jump to conclusions--the child can concentrate when he feels like it. When something is interesting. I've watched him sit and do puzzles for 15 minutes at a time--an extraordinary length of time for a child his age.




I guess what I'm saying is, your teaching better be interesting. Otherwise, Lord help you (and me, with all the phone calls I'll be getting).





Also, Eamon has a great sense of humor. He's terribly goofy, and more or less lives to make others laugh. He smiles through most of the day, but sometimes he lets his desire to entertain get the better of him. And he's very social; he's never yet met someone he couldn't charm. I am not exaggerating when I say that other children his age at parks and at the gym follow him around. We have often had both boys and girls chase him around, trying to kiss him. Eamon doesn't really seem to care, just acknowledging his charisma as a fact of life.

So, well, if you seat him by himself so that he doesn't distract others...yeah, I'll understand. He'll probably still find something to distract himself (a pencil! a desk! a shadow!), because he can find something interesting in just about everything. He's still listening even if he doesn't look like it.




I have to warn you, though, that Eamon is a perfectionist. When you start a new skill, if Eamon can't do it perfectly the first time...he's going to insist that he can't do it at all, and then probably try to run around and do something else. It's frustrating...I know...but just keep encouraging him. Feel free to bribe him with Teddy Grahams if you need to (or whatever the pre-school equivalent is).

And he'll probably be a lot more interested in math than reading. The child loves counting, but could give a flip about the alphabet. He loves puzzles and figuring out anything mechanical, but has been slow to talk. We promise that we really do read to him every night, and he has tons of books that he does sit and look through. Books about dinosaurs and lions seem to be his favorite. And he likes rhyming books. Oh, and books about counting, of course. So if you have a rhyming book about counting dinosaurs or lions, he'll probably read that one over and over.




I guess the upshot is, if you have a sense of humor and wonder, you and Eamon are going to get along great. I know that he can be a handful, but he's probably also one of the most upbeat and good-natured kids you're going to meet. And while his boundless energy can be exhausting for those around him, he really just wants to love you. And have you love him in return.

You know, like all kids.



Feel free to call if you have any questions,

Eamon's Mom

It's Family Time

This weekend we sojourned to Severn, Maryland, for Eamon's great-grandparents Meredith 70th wedding anniversary.

Here's what we learned:

1) Eamon will not nap more than 45 minutes in the car per trip.

2) Eamon will not nap at all in strange places where there is much to explore and discover.

3) Eamon may be "all boy" most of the time but is comfortable enough with his masculinity to have a tea-party with his Opa.

4) Eamon WILL NOT sit on my lap to eat lunch if he could instead sit at a Mickey Mouse table with other people his size and his Oma. Even then, he will not eat more than a few bites or sit longer than about 3 minutes because there are THINGS TO DO AND PLACES TO EXPLORE, PEOPLE.

5) Eamon's cousin Kala really does not like being splashed (Sorry, Kala).

6) Eamon will sit still to eat strawberries. I believe he ate approximately his body weight in strawberries, because by that point I was desperate that he just eat, period, and got him as many strawberries as I thought he could eat without getting sick.

7) I should always remember to wear make-up to these things because someone always insists on taking a Family Photo and I always end up looking like a very sleepy vampire who somehow manages to stay awake during the daytime: