Lost in Translation (or, All Aboard the Potty Train)

Calvin sporting his new hat from Auntie Ellen...

Scott accepting a cup of hot tea from Audrey, who got a new plastic tea set the other day and knows a lot about the importance of hot, caffeinated beverages for a tyke so small.


The vagaries of our language become much clearer when you live with someone who is just learning to put it all together. Every other utterance from Audrey this week is "What's this called?" And she'll listen with rapt attention while you repeat the new word, whatever it is-- thermometer, casserole, stop sign-- and you can just about see the new etchings on her little brain. And sometimes, what we say doesn't make sense. Or rather, it does make sense, but not the sense that we intended. I said to Scott this morning, with a heavy sigh, that it looked like Audrey would be closer to her third birthday than her second by the time she was fully potty trained. And down there at knee-level, Audrey snapped to attention. "Where's the potty train?" she asked, holding up a section of her wooden train tracks.

Yes, the potty train. That would be the one that's not leaving the station anytime soon at our house, even though we have all boarded, with a crate full of pull-ups and Tic-Tac rewards, and that maniacal conductor who is always exclaiming, "Good job! Let's go check for pee again! What a big girl you are! Hooray!" What a moron. Can someone just tell her to take a seat, please?

Gramma Jean cuddles Calvin, and dances with Audrey

Several people have noted that Calvin has very long fingers and toes. There are tall men on both his mother's and his father's side of the family, so we may soon find ourselves craning our necks at an uncomfortable angle to scold him. And he will look down at us with pity and bemusement.

Well wishes from Clinton in Kuala Lumpur

These are the prayer sticks that our friend Clinton placed for Calvin and our family at the Thean Hou Temple, his favorite place in Kuala Lumpur, at the shrine of the gods and goddesses of health and prosperity. Thank you, Clinton! These are beautiful.

Now isn't that more interesting than another photo of an exhausted parent draped in a spitty burp cloth?

8:52 pm and we're ready for bed around here...

But before we begin our nightly charade of "sleeping" while Calvin eats, hangs out awake in his crib, or makes a nice nesty place between us in our bed for chatting and singing campfire songs all night, I thought I'd post a couple of pictures of his older sister. Above, Audrey nurses her baby, Purple Charlotte (her other doll is just called Charlotte). Below, she applies a refreshing cream cheese facial with the sandwich Scott made her for lunch.

We have told Calvin if he continues his nocturnal behavior we are going to send him out to be raised by the family of skunks that live under our neighbor's porch. They are awake all night, but in this house we like to get some rest, young man.

Calvin's first week

A contemplative moment after the bath

His face is so small the pacifier looks like a dinner plate glued to his mouth.


Newborn fashions from Mimi.

Sleeping in on Sunday morning with Dad.

And Audrey? Some of you have asked how she's doing.... Well, kind of a mix. She's fragile, and often bossy and demanding and sometimes she pitches monumental tantrums. In between these episodes she kisses and hugs the baby as much as we'll permit her to, and congratulates him on how well he's nursing. " Good job, honey!" We try to include her in the photos too, but she moves a lot faster than Calvin-- but don't worry, she's here and she's still running the show.

At home with both our little legumes

Leaving Mt. Auburn on Tuesday morning. The last time we left this place, the nurses said, "See you in two years!" and we muttered, "Oh, you are quite mistaken, my friends! We'd never do that to ourselves. Two years, indeed..." And we walked our new baby to the parking garage, shaking our heads and chuckling. Oh, these nurses think they know it all! Ha!

It was two years, one month and five days exactly that we staggered in those big, automatic doors again.



Calvin's rigorous schedule: eat, nap, fill diaper, repeat.

Scott says he doesn't see it, but I think there is a reddish quality to Calvin's hair. Nothing pronounced, but it's there, I can tell.

Today, Calvin got a name, and a new sock monkey.

His name is Calvin Scott.

He is not named for:
Cal Ripkin
Calvin and Hobbes
Calvin Coolidge
Calvin Klein
John Calvin
or any other Calvin, famous or not.

We just like it. That's all!

How sad is this...

All the other kids have their names on their portable cribs, but his just says "I have a bruised face," a note which was placed there by the delivery nurse so that other nurses coming onto their shifts won't be alarmed when they see his bluish nose and chin. That's what happens when you decide to be born at the speed of a runaway coal car-- you get a bruised face.

Going home in the morning!

Our second day at Mt. Auburn. Audrey came by to meet her brother, and we collared a nurse to get at least one photo of all four of us. I can't believe that there are FOUR OF US. Didn't Scott and I just start dating? What have we done?!

Chickpea and Garbonzo: Together at Last

I think I will file this away under "Things to look at when the kids are squabbling and about to drive me out of my mind." Seeing them meet for the first time today was one of the sweeter moments of my life as a parent so far.

Baby W-2 is here!

We are happy to welcome our as-yet-nameless baby boy to the Willcox family. After a very swift labor this afternoon-- two hours, start to finish-- he arrived in good health and spirits, weighing 8 lbs 1 oz. Mother's doing fine, and Father has a punchy glow of pride and relief. Tomorrow, big sister Audrey will come down to the hospital to meet her new colleague; tonight she's having a sleep-over with Auntie Rebecca and Uncle Hank, and their girls.

No promises on when we'll come up with a name, but rest assured we're working on it. The more you bug us about it, the longer we'll make you wait.

We are looking forward to seeing everybody soon. Calls and e-mails are welcome!

"Lots and lots and more" (Notes from the language lab)

She likes what she likes, and when she likes something, she wants more of it. One frequently heard expression from Audrey these days is "lots and lots and more," usually in reference to a food item like cheese sticks but also applicable to barrettes and stickers. It's fascinating to see her cobble together a vocabulary out of the raw materials at hand-- the things that Scott and I say that we don't even notice until they are launched back at us, sometimes adorably and sometimes making us recognize that we really have to watch it because there is a little cognizant being down there at the three-foot level and her tape-recorder is most definitely ON.

Here are some of our favorite words and phrases of the moment. My mom reminds me often that if we don't write them down, they'll soon be forgotten. Already, her baby words are starting to disappear...

Zigick = music. As in "Zigick class" on Saturday mornings, or demands for "more zigick now!" in the car. And "Not this zigick! Audrey no like." For the record, she likes Johnny Cash best of all, and she can get quite piqued if she doesn't like the CD or the radio station we're playing.

Pliget = piglet.

Cock-a-dooloo-dooloo! = sound of the rooster.

I am frequently addressed as "Hon" and "honey", and bolstered with an enthusiastic "Good job, Mommy!" when I use the bathroom. I'm also offered a high-five for putting dishes in the dishwasher, and remembering to put the train set away.

And of course she says, "I do it" and "That mine" and "I need that!" with increasing frequency. She also stands at the foot of the stairs, hands on hips, and says, with just a touch of impatience, "Scott, where are you?"

I have no idea where she picked that one up.

Halloween

On Friday evening before Halloween we made pumpkin soup with our neighbor, Julie, and her son Alexander.

Before Trick-or-Treating, Audrey "helped" Scott carve a sugar pumpkin for the front porch.

And then we set out with our next-door neighbors and their kids to collect some candy. Our neighborhood is pretty serious about Halloween; Scott began to worry that our two measly carved pumpkins made a poor showing. Next year I expect he will be getting out the graph paper to begin sketching a few weeks early. I was asked a few times if Audrey's witch costume was homemade. Yes, it was, but not by me-- it was Janna's costume first, made by my mom about 30 years ago. It's held up well!