Measles?

Not an outbreak...Just a little toddler action when the nanny's back was turned. Harry did Lucy's face and visa versa...Good times.

Rain Drops Keep Falling on My Head

It was a good day to try two big kids in the back-to-back stroller (usually it's just Harry and Charlie). So off they went to music class....dry as can be inside a plastic bubble. I'm wondering why we bothered with rain coats but the green and yellow is very becoming.

What's Old Is New Again

Charlotte is wearing an heirloom today, my first little knitted chapeau, given to me by my Grandmother, Charlotte Leef (pictured on the right). So I give you two snapshots...past and present.

Three Amigos

They're cute, they're perky, they love to eat.....they're the three amigos! Lucy and that dynamic brother-sister duo -- Harry and Charlie. (you will notice how Harry is subtly trying to evade Lucy's cooties with a slight lean to the left).

Neat-O

Just one more reason to upgrade your cellphone: the App store. Last night, while watching what I thought was a totally lackluster Steve Kroft interview with Obama, I downloaded a new application for the Iphone...it's called "color splash." Using photos I shot with my phone and my pointer finger...I was able to create these images -- all before Steve was done examining the Obama's new swingset. Way too cool.

It's Sprinkling

Yesterday Kathy Martin and I hosted a sprinkle for our fellow Rosemont Mama Erin (Lucy's mother). She's scheduled to have the baby (sex TBD!) on March 30. So we gathered to chow on salads and cupcakes (love the dichotomy) and to celebrate the second-time-mother-to-be. It was, shall we say, a full house-o-toddlers. Is there anything they can't get into? After everyone left I found toys in the plants and oodles of cupcake crumbs intermingled with the train tracks....sure signs that they had a good time. I know I did.



The clock ticks Erin!

Has Spring Sprung?

I can't say I'm looking forward to the swarms of mosquitoes (if you're reading this in California, a pox on your mosquito-free yard), but the weather yesterday was positively life-affirming. Lucy and Harry gave me a good preview of the summer action as they built castles, chucked sand, rolled their toys through the muddy grass and got all-over filthy. I will no doubt be changing the boy's clothes four times a day if yesterday was any indicator.

I will not make the mistakes of last summer -- thus I went to Target today, as the sky threatened rain, and stocked up on blowing bubbles, batteries, sand toys, and plastic eggs for the Easter baskets...this mom will not be the one running around looking for the goods to no avail (never again!). The summer shoes are in the closet (no more searching for those (*%^*&*#@^!!) sandals at the 11th hour), the shorts are folded, the bathing suits are waiting and I...can now focus on the restful task of caring for an infant (ha).

Isn't Harry's pint-sized tie-dye cute?

Four Little Monkeys...Breaking and Entering on Commonwealth

We had an impromptu block party last night for St. Patrick's day, instigated by our very clever friend and neighbor Kathy. She rounded everyone up after work, coronas and green food coloring in tow. Thus we transformed the sidewalk into a little party, letting the kids run wild. Our quicky fete provided just the ooomph we needed to not feel totally dull on this once-a-year booze-a-thon.

It should be noted that we had more children than beers....very pathetic for our once motley crew. But it was fun. And the kids, for their part, had a blast. Harry terrorized passersby with Lucy's pink baby carriage, at one point taking it up and down the Carr's front slope in a sort of SUV off-road maneuver, while Lucy and Pearl played with Harry's tricycle. Mariel ran up and down the sidewalk, her father in close pursuit. I'm thinking maybe five beers next year.

Get Well Soon

Today we're sending a special shout out to Harry and Charlotte's grandfather, Jim, (AKA Paba) who is in the hospital for a little tune-up. He's out of surgery and doing great. So to aid him in a speedy recovery I'm offering up two pictures of the kids (sure to make him laugh)...Charlotte sitting politely in her bumbo chair...and Harry stuck in her bumbo chair.

Hippy Dippy Tie Dye Heaven

Despite rumors, we are not inviting the ghost of Jerry Garcia to Harry's second birthday party. We are, however, thinking of making tie-dyed tee-shirts for the pint-sized guests. Paul used to be quite the tie-dyer (read: hippie...yes, my seemingly straight-laced hubby gallivanted all over the country with long hair, following his idol, Mr. Garcia and the GDead...this fact, I'm pretty sure, still vexes his father who at one point threatened to "pee in the Gangez" River where Jerry's ashes were years later scattered. tee hee.)...and along the way he learned the art that is tie dye. So last night we broke out his long-untouched box of dyes and chemicals (he sniffs at my childhood efforts using rubber bands and Ritt dye (remember that stuff?). He taught me the basics and we went about testing some shirts....the dyes he uses offer incredible vibrant colors. We twisted up the shirts, dripped on the dye and bagged them up over night. This morning I rinsed a few out and WOW!! I even made Charlotte a little dyed onsie in shades of pink and raspberry. super cute. If we get our acts together we'll have some very fun summer tees for Harry's friends.

Red in the Face

Sometimes being just three feet away from the kids (reading the paper, ahem...), does not mean you can avoid toddler chaos. Yesterday afternoon Harry took it upon himself to apply a little makeup to his sister's face in the form of magenta marker. My reaction? "Paul!!!!????!!!???" to which Paul jumped two feet out of his chair, dropping the paper. But frankly who could be mad at Harry (or Paul), Charlotte was laughing, Harry was laughing. It was hysterical. Realizing his, um... error, Harry inquired "wipe?" I gave him a wet washcloth and he tried to clean the baby's face. Thank Heaven it wasn't permanent marker.

We Zoo, Do You?

We ventured to the zoo this morning with our good friend Monica and Harry's gal-pal, Bailey. They gazed at the elephants, watching a 7-year-old weigh- in at more than 5100 pounds (probably too many Zookies), pointed at the hippos, squealed at the monkeys, and saw a couple pandas chow down on bamboo (Harry insisted that any animal he saw eating was having 'yogurt,' a personal favorite.) He also spent a goodly amount of time yodeling 'Baillleeeeeee.' Pretty much everyone at the zoo has now heard the name. He was not a model toddler this morning, but Bailey more than made up for his shortcomings with her sweet smile and big hugs (see the body-lock she put on Harry).

One Foot in Front of the Other

I call this photo: "Mother Teresa of Calcutta"....

You have to give the girl credit (and don't mean the nun). As if on cue, Charlotte allowed herself to tank up on milk and went to bed a few hours later last night, at 9:30. She roused briefly an hour later. I did five minutes of soothing then she was out. She woke again at 2:30 a.m.. Still she wasn't hungry. Thatta-girl! But I did change a very soggy diaper. After reading the voluminous report provided in triplicate by the swing shift, I can say she was up once more at 3:30 a.m. but then powered through until almost 6 a.m. I'd say she's doing really well. I am prematurely celebrating by getting her a cornflower blue sundress, to match her pretty eyes. We have a lot of work to do, but I'm hopeful.

Lullaby and Goodnight

How did we do? In a word: Better.

Charlotte fell asleep around 7:30 p.m. and stayed pretty zonked, minus a few tiny bouts of fussing, until midnight when she had a feeding. That's when things got dicey. Her sleep through 2 a.m. was punctuated with periods of wakefulness but she's learning to self-soothe, if only by gnawing on her blanket (she is half-swaddled from the chest down and Yes the notion that she could pull up her blanket to her face makes me veeeery nervous) or her fingers.

The swing shift reported less productive sleep from 2 a.m. forward. She's been getting up, in earnest just before 5 a.m. (which for some reason does not seem a burden to Paul who just started a new job and is being a VERY eager beaver into the office....I appreciate the timing. ) But I would like to know how to extend her sleep to a more polite hour. You might say....'just keep her up later.' And frankly I'd be delighted to, but I challenge you to find a way to keep a baby alert when they're bound and determined to hit the sack.

All suggestions welcome.

Anatomy of a Sleepless Night

The first question you're asked when you bring home a baby is 'is she sleeping?' Usually there is no easy answer. 'Yes' the baby sleeps when it suits her. 'No' it's not what you, person-without-child-living-under-your-roof, would consider sleep. Now that is not to say that babies don't sleep. I have friends whose kids were natural sleepers, right out of the womb. I can count them on the hand of someone who uses a power saw for a living. But they do exist. They are adorable kids. I would like to borrow one.

Suffice it to say, Charlotte is not one of them. We had high hope when she was born that she would be one of those good sleepers. Unlike her brother, she took to her bassinet right off. She could sleep without being cradled. And she slept for hours at a clip. For months. See rested family with blissfully sleeping infant atop this post. Then along came winter cold season, and mom and dad got sick too and sleep became a premium for health and we succumbed to lazy sleep habits in relationship to the baby. If she cried in the middle of the night, hungry or not, we gave her a bottle instead of allowing her a chance to learn to self-soothe, a vital tool in the fight for good sleep habits. So now the bottle is part of her routine, so much so that she wakes every hour, during periods of light sleep, in search of a nipple, flesh or plastic, makes no difference. She sucks, she drinks a sip or two, she falls blissfully to sleep for another hour. Without it, she will cry, piteously, for an hour. So you see our growing dilemma. A five-month-old who weights 16 pounds should not be up every hour snacking.

Now, with her habits devolving further and our selfish crave for sleep having been totally thwarted, we have begun our second attempt at...what should I call it?....sleep conditioning. For those of you who think this is some inhumane sleep ritual devoid of love or compassion, I will respectfully disagree. Dr. Sears (the modern-day, granola-version of Benjamin Spock) might suggest we take a less structured approach -- he would also advise us 'hey, your kid will sleep one day'...who cares if he's four when y'all finally get some shut-eye. That's nearly a direct quote from his 'Baby book, an otherwise useful tool. But that is just not practical for our two kids of varied age under two -- unless you're volunteering to be our night nanny. This approach, I will note, worked really well with Harry, who was sleeping through the night after three days under the Ferber method, author of "Solve Your Child's Sleep Problems." Will it work for Charlie? We'll see!

So, you ask, how did she do last night? I will not humor you with the stock answer. (Spoiler alert -- if you're pregnant with your second and wondering how you'll cope...perhaps you should read a different blog until I give the all-clear).

7 p.m. Charlotte falls asleep in my lap after her last bottle. I put her in the bassinet. She stirs, cries, but falls to sleep quickly.

10 p.m. I move Charlotte to her nursery, into her crib. She wakes and cries. I begin the process of soothing every few minutes. I make up a bed on the floor of her room and go to sleep.

10:30 to midnight. Charlotte wakes every 20 minutes. I soothe her back to sleep each time, waiting one minute, three minutes, five minutes and 10 mintutes intervals.

Midnight -- Charlotte wakes in earnest for food. She gobbles down 4 ounces of formula and begins the process of crying herself to sleep back in her crib. Again we being interval soothing. She's out by 12:30.

2:30 a.m. -- She's up again and Leef calls in the swing shift. Dad takes over.

2:30 to 6:30 a.m. -- Paul says Charlotte wakes every half hour but is already responding to light soothing and falls back to sleep quickly.

What will tonight hold? Stay tuned for another riveting chapter of The House That Never Sleeps.

Five Months

Charlotte is five months old today. With strawberry brown hair and big blue eyes, she is a big smiler (much like her brother is) and so far, a terrible sleeper (just like her brother was). She loves to laugh out-loud and razz (loudest at 4 a.m., but hey who's keeping track). Her hands (unlike Harry's) are super-dexterous. Sometimes she grabs one of her own fingers and then just will not let go. And unlike Harry, who was all flesh at five months, Charlotte will grab her toes and rock. A second-time mom shouldn't be so enchanted by that act, but for me it's basically a first. Harry pretty much still can't touch his toes. So, three cheers for my little meatball Charlotte...she is one sweet baby. Tonight, my dear, we try to get you to sleep, no matter how little we get.

Roosevelt Island

We spent this morning at Roosevelt Island, a little wooded dot of land across the Potomac from Georgetown that's ripe with ducks and rugged beachfront, boggy marsh and in the center of the island, a tribute to Teddy (we're on a first name basis). Paul and I used to take runs there before Harry made his appearance. We weren't sure how it would go over, but it was a huge hit. He ran down the paths, he chucked grapes at the ducks (no ducks don't really go for grapes), he craned his neck to watch the very close airplanes overhead and watched with awe as other visitors let their dogs swim in the river chasing balls and sticks. Big fun for everyone. (Harry is pictured inside a very large tree).

'Irish I were drinking'

Wanna see a couple hundred dogs dressed in green? Green fur. Green bandanas. Green hats. This dog lover was really diggin' Alexandria's St. Patrick's parade and dog show. And so was Harry, who got up close and furry with a slew of 150-pound Irish Wolfhounds and assorted mutts.

Bagpipes, kilts, Shriners in wee little orange cars, Mardi Gras beads, the Notre Dame alumni marching band (boo hiss) and one very green cupcake. It was a great afternoon. Harry even clapped when the little clogging queens stomped by. Here's a couple thousand words....

First supper

We tried in earnest to give Charlie some rice cereal yesterday. Bib on? Check. Porridge not too hot, not too cold courtesy the three bears? Check. Then I began shoveling. While Harry was a bottomless pit starting with his first spoonfuls at four months, opening his mouth wide like a baby bird anticipating a masticated worn, Charlotte is not so sure about this spoon feeding thing and clearly less keen on rice cereal. Still she gave it a good go. I got a few spoonfuls in. And alas it did nothing to aid her sleep.

Tricks of the Trade

I think I've officially figured out the afternoon nap (Harry's). Our nanny Roxana never has any trouble getting him down. She plops him in his crib, flips him on his tummy, tells him Lucy has gone "night night" in the next room and that's it. Badabing Badaboom. Mom has a little more trouble. Harry goes down, but it's usually preceded by a few minutes of whining, standing up in the crib. sometimes even tears.

So today, I took a new approach. Basically I followed Roxana's routine and then...I lied. "Lucy has gone night night. It's Harry's turn." Only Lucy isn't at our house on Friday's. But damn if it didn't work.

Harry said "Lucy's night night. Lucy friend." Then he rolled over and went right to sleep. Thank you Lucy. I hope you're sleeping too. Now if Charlotte would just obey.....

Thank Heaven for Little Girls

Harry is almost two and we're just considering where to go for his first haircut. Charlotte, on the other hand, is definitely her mother's daughter...lots of hair. Yesterday we celebrated her locks with her first barrette. She looked wicked cute.

Baby Bumbo and Brother

Gotta love these Bumbo sitters. I guess Bolivians don't have anything similar because the nanny about fellow over laughing when she saw Charlotte wedged, fanny first, into the little blue rubber seat (intended for babies who aren't quite sitting up on their own yet). Harry used the Bumbo for about a month before his rear end got too big.

The introduction of this blue blob has totally changed Charlotte's world. Now she can "play" with Harry and me on block mat without being nearly horizontal. Already she's eyeing his things. There's a particular pink plastic pig that Harry likes, each night we build piggy a house out of Mega blocks. I gave it to Charlotte to examine and let me tell you...that did not go over. Get used to it buddy, there's a lot more sharing where that came from.

Getting to Snow You

Six inches of snow means fun times for a toddler and a dog. Put them together and you have twice the fun, twice the wet feet (half more?) and soggy pants from lots of rear-in-the-snow action (Harry's, not mine).

Our buddy Lucy wasn't quite as keen on the whole scene -- she preferred to cheer Harry on in his face-off with the dog from behind the kitchen window. She seemed genuinely worried for his safety, peeping "Harry inside!"

I'm just sorry that Paul missed the fun. He got up at the crack of dawn to drive to Bethesda to be sworn in to government service. Our own little intelligence officer. He's so proud. Yea Paul! Now come home and play with us.