Our Community

Last month there was a reunion of sorts.  All of us initially met in a child birth education class, when our children were 7 months in utero.  A lot has changed since then.

 This is June.   She was host of the party, along with her parents Susan and Elliot.

Sofia and her dad Matt.

 Ogden.  He was the first to walk, around 8 months.

William.

Liam with his dad Michael hiding his face from the camera. 

Christina and her son William.

That's Ogden's father Tom on the left.

Sofia's mom Dina.  

Clyde and Ogden.

 Clyde's dad Rob on the left.

 Of course.

We’ve been taking Elliot to this daycare in Gowanus for the past few months.  It takes two different trains to get there (long story, involving the sprinkler system at the daycare we used to take him to, three blocks from our house).

Anyway, these days Hannah has been taking Elliot to daycare in the morning, while I pick him up at night.  She has a much harder job.

On this particular night, I get to the daycare a few minutes before 6 and pack him in his little green front pack.  I say good bye to Kiara and Anna, step out in the chilly air, and walk beneath the blinking lightbulbs of Oxaca Tacqueria toward the subway.

Elliot is often quiet on the subway.  He likes to look at people.  Sometimes he pokes at the fuzzy lining of the hood of a lady’s parka.  Other times he stares at people intently, refusing to react when they coo and smile at him. 

But he rarely speaks.  He sees subway time as a chance to soak it all in.  He is constantly whipping his head left and right, not wanting to miss anything.

Until, that is, we reach the corner of Franklin and Lincoln.  With the precision of an atomic clock, Elliot’s mouth comes alive when we make the turn onto our home street.   He recognizes that we are nearly back, and he starts talking.

“Mama.” 

“Mama.”

He says it over and over.  Not anxiously, or impatiently.  But without much excitement, either.  He just says it.

“Mama.” 

“Mama.”

Over and over.  Calmly, gently.  He stares me in the face as he speaks.  He’s not asking me if she’ll be there.  He’s telling me.  Reminding me, in case I had forgotten. 

“Mama.”

“Mama.”

And normally these words make me smile.  “Yes,”  I’ll say.  “We’re going to see mama.”

But tonight I don’t say this.  “No.”

“Mama.”

“No.”

“Mama.”

“Mama won’t be there.  You won’t see her tonight.”

Mama is getting a haircut, and she won’t be home until after Elliot is asleep in bed.

He seems to register what I’m saying.  He pauses and for a moment does not answer.

“Mama.”

“Mama.”

He only stops when I creak open the metal gate, slide my key into the lock, heave open the heavy door, climb the stairs, click on the light, and flop us down onto the couch. 

And even then, the only reason he stops talking is so he can go toddle about the apartment to look for her. 

Codman Farm

It was pretty awesome. First there was this big drafty barn, full of filthy hay to play in.

Within minutes Elliot had found another kid's toy to play with.

The farm provides tricycles.  Naturally.

Everyone loves lambs!

Not everyone loves chickens though.  Moments after this photo was taken Elliot got pecked on his finger and started crying.  For five seconds. 

This is my favorite photo.

Hanging out in the living room

I'm going to abuse you and post this entire video, even though nothing really happens.  You have to listen to Hannah and I talk about work for a while.  And then I manage to avoid shooting Elliot's face while he's laughing adorably.  I really have to get around to hiring that videographer....

He's happy on the floor... so we leave him there.

Learning to play by himself:

Does Not Compute

This is probably the LEAST abuse he's given my laptop, during the few instances he's been given the chance:

Updates

Had a great time in Boston this weekend. 

Highlights:
*Codman farm of course.  Elliot loved petting a lamb.  And getting pecked by a chicken and crying for five seconds before trying again. Also seeing a 2-day-old piglet under a heat lamp.  (I transitioned to my own farm highlights.)
*Dinner with Suzanne Rocklin.  Learning that her son lives across the street from the house Hannah grew up in.  Like literally across the street.  So weird.
*Brunch at Cabot's with Nico!  Awesome new book from her.  Followed by the four of us visiting my junior high school, which was right down the street.  That part was also a little weird.
*Getting to go see a movie (Coriolanus) without spending 100 bucks on babysitting.
*Fabulous goat meat dinner for Elliot.  I had some too.
*Downton Abbey finale!

Elliot is learning new words at a very rapid pace.  He says dog, and ball, and uh-oh, and teddy, in addition to the ones you've heard so far.  He will imitate pretty much any sound that comes out of your mouth if you ask him to.

He really likes the word THAT.  He will extend an arm toward something and just say it.  It comes out "Tha!"

He's sleeping through the night nearly every night now.  Getting rid of his cold helped.  Also, we've started putting a onesie on beneath his PJs.  So maybe he was getting cold in the wee hours.

Just hanging out

Kazoo!

Headed to Boston

Well, Lexington first.  We're driving up this morning.  Elliot's going to see some aminals at Codman Farm. Did you know that there is such a thing as a fish CSA?  Me neither.  Who knows what else I will learn there?

Stuffing Face with Blueberries

Yes, this is getting to be a recurrent theme.  And yes, this is kind of a long video.

But I think it's worth watching.  Or maybe I'm the only one amazed by how many blueberries this kid can eat.

(FYI, his diaper the next morning was BRUTAL.  I'm not going go into any more detail than that.)

Missing Ding Dong

I was home alone with Elliot last week.  We were hanging out, playing with toys.  You know, the usual stuff. 

He toddled away from the toy area, his typical home base, toward the TV.  Then, as occurs 75-100 times per day, he lost his balance and fell on his bottom.  

What was unusual about this particular sit-down-fall was its location.  He was right at the crevice where the rug meets the TV stand.  And wedged into that crevice was a long stick with a few feathers on the end.  

So what, you say?  Every household has a stick with a few feathers on the end.  But wait. 

This particular stick with feathers was the favorite toy of Ding Dong, the cat-with-saintly-patience who we had been caring for while our friend Irina was traveling in the Caribbean.  Elliot had grown quite attached to Ding Dong, to the point where he only occasionally tried to poke her eyeballs out.  

Four days earlier, Irina had returned from her travels and taken Ding Dong home.  

Elliot sat there on the rug and looked at the stick with feathers.  It took him a second to recall its function.  He picked up the stick by its non-feather end (a trick that required the whole first week of Ding Dong’s visit) and wiggled it back and forth.  He had a bemused look on his face, like he didn’t quite remember why he used to do this.  

(For a captivating video of elliot wiggling these feathers for Ding Dong, click here.)

He kept moving the stick, back and forth, distractedly.  And then a sudden awareness came into his eyes.  He looked around the room intently, his eyes focused on corners and edges.  

He was looking for Ding Dong.  He looked and looked.  And then he set his eyes on me.   “Ding Dong left,” I said.  He continued to stare.  “She went back to her mommy.” 

The combination of sadness and perplexed wonder in his face just about broke my heart.

He continued to look for her.  And he kept wiggling the stick back and forth.  

He didn't want to venture onto the grass. He knows the chances of a face plant are far higher on grass (although less painful).

Reading Standing Up

This is new thing with Elliot.  He likes to go get a book and bring it to you, and have you read it to him while he stands in front of you.  Kind of awkward, not as cozy as tucking him in your lap.  

Maybe it makes him feel more independent.  Cause, you know, he's really not dependent on us at all. 

Babbling

He was actually talking a lot more before I managed to find the camera.  But here's a quick glimpse:

As usual, once he discovers the camera it's all over.

Elliot's First Word

Okay, I’ve been pressured by a family member, who shall remain nameless, to disclose certain key facts. 

First word:  Turtle.  

Pronunciation:  Tuh-Tah

The turtle in question is about half his length, with a plastic shell and plush head and limbs.  When you push a button on its back, it shines light and casts stars on the ceiling at night.  We have never used its intended function, btw.  Once a toy becomes your best friend, it’s cruel to put it work.  That’s what Hannah and I believe, anyway. 

Second word (closely tied with first): Cat.  

Pronunciation: Kah.  (Less understandable, but a billion times more adorable.)

This, of course, refers to Ding Dong, who we were cat sitters for in January.  Irina took Ding Dong back a few days ago, but she made a big impression. 

You will be updated as further words roll in.  Or out, as the case may be. 

(fwiw, nameless family member, I had every intention of posting this news eventually.  I was just taking my time and crafting to perfection the delivery of the exciting news.  As a wordsmith yourself, you should appreciate the value therein.)

Christmas Photos Part 6

I already mentioned our post-Christmas Brunch, but here are a few more photos.

Carole's persimmon pudding (secret Ferguson family recipe) was a big hit. 

You already saw a video of Elliot with Koda (or is it Coda?  I can't believe after posting that no one emailed me the answer!  Jeez....

But here are a few more photos documenting Elliot's fascination with all things canine (and feline, for that matter).

Hitting

Lately Elliot's been having a slight problem with hitting kids at daycare.  Nothing hard, just a little flap of the hand, the same thing he does to us at home sometimes, and that we've been trying to nip in the bud.

The daycare people don’t seem to think it’s unusual, or a cause of alarm.  They say it always happens when some other kid comes and tries to take a toy from him, it’s provoked, he’s not just wandering the room whaling on kids.  So I guess that explains it a little. But like I said, we’ve noticed the same thing at home, and we try to crack down hard on it.  We stay "No!' sternly, and then ignore him for a few seconds.  If I'm holding him I'll put him down and walk away for a moment. 

Watching Elliot get irritated and lash out physically is a reminder how deeply rooted the impulse to violence is.  We all get frustrated, and reacting in that way --- with physical force--- is not just a product of our violent American gun culture, or some bullshit that the extreme lefty liberals would have you believe (I love those lefty liberals, but I have heard exactly this kind of pap come from their mouths).  

We’re not all peaceful beautiful snowflakes, we have violence inside us.  Civilization has done a great job teaching us to rein it in, and we’ve all benefited from that impulse control.  But the notion that humans are inherently peaceful is a joke.  Elliot’s the most adorable kid ever, but he has violence in him for sure. 

Christmas Photos Part 5

Some kids complain about getting a sweater for Christmas.  Not Elliot.  Not with a sweet sweater like this. 

Mid-Christmas diaper check.

Christmas Photos Part 4

This was a gift that required assembly.  

Initially Elliot assembled, but he quickly promoted himself to management.

And of course everyone needs to take a break.  Except Anna.  Work, slave.

Good managers keep morale high with surprise gifts for the workers.

Satisfied with a job well done.

Christmas Photos Part 3

First we opened stockings.  Ed got a top. 

Kate got a cookie.

Elliot also got a cookie.  Notice how shocked he is at the generosity.