Tot Shabbat

Max and his friend, Bella, enjoy a tasty dinner before heading off to Tot Shabbat services (or as Max refers to them --"Hot Shabbat."  Is that like hot yoga where they turn up the temperature to 100 degrees in the room?  Maybe hot temperatures would keep the toddlers sedated.  Not a bad idea...)

Adventures in Microclimates

The Bay Area is know for its microclimates as the boys and I discovered first-hand this morning. After Henry's nap, the sun was starting to break through here in Alameda, so I thought we'd get out and about before the next rainstorm hit. I've been wanting to check out the farm in Tilden Regional Park, so I packed a lunch, threw the boys in the car, and headed for the hills above Berkeley.

I could see a massive bank of clouds sitting on the hills as I drove toward them, but I foolishly thought that they would clear before we got up there. As we started to spiral up a steep mountain road, however, the clouds and fog quickly engulfed us and I realized my mistake! The driving conditions were HORRIBLE -- steep narrow road, Precipitous drop-off with no railing, nowhere to pull over, blinding fog on all sides. Add to this the fact that (1) Henry was crying in the backseat, (2) Max was upset that we had left the lettuce for the goats at home and (3) I have a bizarre recurring nightmare about driving up a mountain and then sliding uncontrollably backwards as my brakes fail, and you have a recipe for an extremely unpleasant (near terrifying) drive. Eventually I found a place to pull over and I turned the car around and headed back down the mountain. We never did make it to Tilden, but I would love to try again on a SUNNY day!

Having abandoned that outing, I decided to head back to familiar turf in Alameda. The boys and I took our lunch to the beach where it was warm, sunny, and absolutely gorgeous. Max threw sticks in the bay and fed the seagulls (sorry, Nicolle) and Henry ate sticks and crawled around. It was delightful. It's amazing to me that these two destinations are separated by only a few miles and yet the weather couldn't have been more different. That's the Bay Area for you!

Max strikes a GQ pose at the beach.

Yummy stick!

Two Cuties and a Wagon

Good Times and Bad

We were lucky enough to have two special visitors this past week -- Grandma Rhona and Dodie. Both grandmothers were full of energy and enjoyed chasing the kids around, participating in the ongoing potty-training endeavor, and giving Danielle and Scott a little time off to do things like go on a date (Slumdog Millionaire is fantastic) and attend important meetings (Max will be starting a toddler play program in March). Check out the pictures below for more highlights from the visits.

On the flip side of things, we've encountered a few significant hurdles with Henry. The bottom line is that he has suddenly quit nursing and won't drink any liquids from a cup. Up until last Tuesday, Henry was a champion nurser and he never missed a feeding. He nursed at 6am and 10am on Tuesday as he normally would, and then wouldn't nurse again. No amount of begging, bribing or crazy antics suggested by the lactation consultants would convince him to change his mind. I wouldn't be upset about weaning Henry at this point if we had a different set of circumstances. He is, after all, almost 11 months, the same age Max was when he was weaned. It's very strange for a baby to just abruptly wean himself at this age, however, and it is certainly not ideal since he won't drink other liquids from a cup. I've tried formula, milk, water, and juice and a variety of different sippy cups. I can get a little juice down him, but that's it. I was so worried that he was going to end up dangerously dehydrated that I took him to the pediatrician on Thursday. She said he looked great and was no doubt getting a lot of liquids from his food. Her perspective was just to continue offering him cups and eventually, when he got thirsty enough, he would drink. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that this will turn out to be the case. He's a stubborn little guy. I can't imagine where he got that...

From an emotional perspective, I feel a little sad about the fact that my "baby" is now weaned, almost walking, and soon to turn one year old. Don't get me wrong, I'll be happy to have my body back to myself (assuming I don't end up with mastitis from the abrupt cessation of breastfeeding, but that's another story), but I will also miss the special, snuggly time with Henry that nursing has allowed. I'm sad that I didn't know that our last time nursing on Tuesday morning was really our LAST time nursing! Maybe it's time for another baby. Ha, ha! Just kidding Mom and Rhona! Don't get too excited. I think I have my hands full at the moment with these two jokers.

Henry explores the baby room at Habitot museum in Berkeley.

Max gets in touch with his inner Picasso at Habitot

Max did one swipe of paint on this paper and then freaked out because he had paint on his hand. Does my toddler have obsessive compulsive disorder?

Max models his new rain boots. Thanks Grandma Rhona!

Max helps Mommy make salsa in the kitchen.

Dodie and the boys in front of the house. Can you believe we found a wreath with all of the crazy paint colors of the house in it?

Words, Words, Words

Henry has had a language explosion over the past few weeks. He's 10 1/2 months old, and it is fascinating to me how many more words the kid has than his brother did at the same age. Maybe it actually is related to having an older brother around who talks ALL OF THE TIME. Henry definitely exists in a "language rich environment." In any case, to date Henry can say the following:

Dada
Mama
Cracker
Cat
Duck
Book
Uh oh
No, No, No
Dat? (ubiquitous word for any unknown object always accompanied by finger pointing)

Not to be outdone, Max has also thrown out a few good ones of his own this past week. Yesterday he was sitting on my lap on the couch and Scott did a body slam down on top of the two of us. "Too much Gerber family!" Max yelled.

He also has a newfound fascination with an imaginary family of foxes. Out of nowhere he'll say things like, "Mommy, you need to be quiet, the foxes are sleeping." or "I better finish this cheese stick or the foxes will eat it." What the heck? Where did this come from? Who are these foxes and why is Max always talking about them? Should I be saving up for the psychiatric bills? It's pretty amusing, actually, and Max seems to know that he's being funny. I love to watch his developing sense of humor.

Bathroom Project

Inspired, perhaps, by watching way, way too much HGTV, Scott and I recently undertook some fairly extensive bathroom projects. We're actually pretty darn proud of the results and the fact that we didn't have to hire a contractor to help out! Scott managed to demo a hole in the wall big enough for a new medicine cabinet and then install the cabinet. We also cut molding in a miter box and affixed it to the ugly vanity to give it that "architectural detail" that they're always going on about on TV. Everything got a fresh coat of paint. If we're feeling particularly ambitious, we might even try to put in our own glass tile backsplash behind the sink. Eat your heart out, Vern Yip!

The bathroom when we moved in

The bathroom after renovation projects

Max enjoying the new bathroom and brushing his teeth

Henry checks out the improvements from the floor level

Potty Humor

So Max now enjoys putting his stuffed animals on top of Henry and announcing, "Giraffe just pooped on Henry's head!". This declaration is generally followed by sly and/or hysterical laughter. Is this stuff genetically pre-programmed? Are little boys born appreciating potty humor? God knows he didn't learn this from me...