Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming

It's been pretty hot here. "Pretty hot" as in it's 85 - 90 degrees out with no breeze to speak of and I'm 6.5 months pregnant. Blech. Oh, and there's a little bit of humidity thrown in there to just make sure my sweat never dries.

Thus, we have been making the most out of our pool. The boys and I go in at least once a day and sometimes twice, depending on how hot it is outside. Since we've spent so much time in the water this summer, the boys have gotten really comfortable with the water. Johnny loves to swim around the whole pool with his floaties from Grandma Durso and Hank just likes to splash around and jump to me. Both boys put their faces underwater and both have learned the concept of closing their mouths and holding their breaths. Without any kind of formal instruction. Which is awesome.

And now Johnny does stuff like this:
Which is pretty awesome considering he wouldn't go near the diving board a few weeks ago. 

At some point you just have to laugh.

A couple of days ago, Johnny wanted to go to Cardiff (San Elijo beach) so we could watch the trains that go by. Well, we tried to go in the morning, but the boys were too distracted by all of the stuff at our house, which was fine until it was Hank's nap time and then it was a HUGE deal. My children do not understand the concept of time. So I said we would go after Hank's nap. I generally don't do afternoon outings because the boys tend to be tired, way more stubborn than usual, and unsympathetic to my desire to go home and make food for dinner... but Johnny was so sad we didn't get to see trains that I couldn't say no.

Hank woke up and we packed up and shipped out to Cardiff around 2:30pm. We parked and walked over to the Kook and sat, waiting for the trains that came about every 45 minutes, as is our custom.

Walking along the garden path from our car to the Kook statue.

Then Johnny said he wanted to go play with sand... which is a rare occurrence. Usually it's Hank who is begging to play with sand, not Johnny. Well, I tried to get them to go back to the car to get the diaper/snack/water bag and the sand toys, but Johnny wasn't having it and took off to the beach. Hank and I had no choice but to follow, armed only with my purse.

Once we got down to the sand, we walked for awhile and found a really cool spot by a bridge (something else Johnny is obsessed with right now) with lots of rocks for throwing. We threw some rocks into the lagoon, then crossed over the bridge a couple of times (not my favorite activity since there was no sidewalk and there were LOTS of cars) and back to the beach to throw rocks. By this point, I had been parked in the 2 hour lot for an hour and forty-five minutes. So I gave the boys a five minute countdown and they threw rocks for five more minutes.

Then I announced, "Okay boys! It's been five minutes. Time to go." Aaaaaaaaand, they weren't having any of it. Now, unfortunately, I don't have a leg to stand on with these declarations because I can't force them both to do something that they don't want to do. I'm not supposed to be lifting 30 pounds, much less 75 (which is what they weigh together). I do try as much as possible to coax/convince/compromise them into doing certain things with me, but this could be an expensive parking ticket if we didn't get moving. So I managed to coax Hank into leaving and just picked up Johnny.

We made it about 30 feet.

Hank got distracted by a large mound of sand and Johnny was screaming to be put down, so I put down Johnny with the agreement that he would walk to the car next to me. I walked back to Hank, explained to him that we have to get moving so I needed to carry him, which he was fine with. I picked up Hank and turned back to meet with Johnny... and he wasn't there. Where did he go, you ask? Back to where the rocks were. And he was having a merry time throwing rocks into the lagoon. So Hank flung himself out of my arms and joined his brother.

Honestly, at this point I'm panicking.

I'm worried about getting a ticket in the timed lot. I have no snacks with me. Or water. None at all. Hank the tank hasn't had anything to eat since the handful of dry cereal he had when we drove in two hours ago and you don't get to be a 2-year-old in the 100th percentile without eating every hour. And I can't carry both boys back to the car. Suddenly, I'm picturing myself having to drag the boys by their arms through the sand back to the car while they scream, cry, and generally melt down from thirst, hunger, and displeasure at being removed from their fun activity. Not something this trying-so-hard-to-be-peaceful parent wants to attempt.

So what do my darling children do as I'm having in inner panic attack? They remove their clothes and start wading in the water.

And at that point, I have two options:

• Option 1- Lose my ever-loving mind over the ridiculous parking ticket that is surely awaiting me, the wet clothes I now have to carry back to the car, and the side eyes I'll be getting from the other beach-goers as my naked sons traipse down the beach.
• Option 2- Laugh and take pictures.

I chose option 2.

The full monty

Johnny picking out the best rock for throwing.

Hank's clothes were completely wet and I didn't have any fresh diapers with me, so he walked back to the car naked. Well, he made me carry him most of the way.

I finally managed to get the boys to go back to the car voluntarily, where John had arrived (after an earlier tearful phone call from me) with Papa John's pizza. We all had some delicious dinner in the van and went home. John let me drive his car so that I could escape the craziness for a little while. He's so awesome.

Trains

They're Johnny's new obsession. Trains. It's not even a question. Trains. They're Johnny's new passion ... Okay, I'll stop there for anyone not familiar with late 90's Aerosmith...

Anyway! For Christmas, John and I gave the boys a big wooden train set. At the time, they were mildly interested. John and I would build tracks, the boys would run trains on them, and then they'd tear them down. The tearing down, of course, was the best part.

Then, suddenly, Johnny started building the most elaborate train tracks. Kind of out of nowhere. He figured out how to make elevated tracks and would loop them through each other and around in all kinds of configurations.

Just for the record, the track on top is John's.

I don't have a lot of pictures of his tracks because he tends to tear them down as quickly as he builds them. Just believe me when I say he makes some cool ones.

With this new obsession, we have spent a good chunk of time in the last few months watching trains. One of our favorite spots is in Cardiff, right by the Cardiff Kook because there's a beach we can visit for Hank to enjoy throwing sand and our parking spot is in view of the Coaster trains that go by. AND, big bonus, we can see the railroad crossing sign and "sticks", as the boys call them, which may be Johnny's favorite part of watching trains. We also went to the train station in Hampton Bays quite a few times when we were on the east coast to get a fix. And now one of Johnny's favorite places is the trolley station, where we can see about two trains every fifteen minutes. Much more satisfying than in Cardiff, where they come by about every 45 minutes.

We also went to Old Poway Park a couple of weekends ago and brought Grandma, Jack, and Aunt Leslie along to enjoy riding the old steam locomotive there. It runs on the weekends and goes twice around its little track through the park. The boys adored it.

Johnny too excited to smile

Hank and Jack reserving judgement.

Johnny doing his imitation of the sticks at a railroad crossing.

Now we have a game that we play at the park, where Johnny will say "Here comes the Johnny train!" And I have to put my arms up and say "DING DING DING!" so that it is safe for the Johnny train to go down the ladder/slide/bridge/whatever is the track at that moment. Of course, the Hank train comes to play at some point, too. It's pretty cute. And not a bad workout for my arms.

Splash!

Both boys go through waves of loving baths and then hating baths. For now, we're in a loving-the-bath stage. Mostly because Johnny has learned the concept of water displacement. Typically in the form of splashing.

Hey, Hank, since I know you hate this, here's a little water for your face!

Ready, set...

Go!

Yay! Gigantic splash! Water everywhere! Whoo-hoo!!

Now, the pictures would indicate that fun is had by all. This is not entirely true. Johnny, of course, thinks his tidal waves are awesome and hilarious, but Hank sometimes gets doused with so much water that he probably thinks he's being water-boarded... I mean, if he had any concept of POW torture techniques, he would totally think that.

I digress. John and I used to freak out a little about getting so much water on the floor since the kids' bathroom is right over the kitchen and the seam between the tub and linoleum lines up nicely with our beautiful cabinets... but then John re-caulked that seam and I don't care so much any more. (Hopefully you did extraordinary job on that caulking, honey!) That doesn't mean that I don't lay down at least two towels on the floor for each bath session, though. Baths create quite a bit of laundry these days.

I think I've seen this before.

I caught Hank doing this the other day:

I left him in the middle of the floor with some toys so that I could grab my water bottle from the upstairs bedroom. I come back and he has ignored all the toys I left him with and has instead focused on increasing entropy (NERD... even though I know it's not really used correctly. Whatever.)

Reminds me of someone else I know...

Johnny - 23 months

O-B-S-E-S-S-E-D

Johnny has an obsession with Cars, as I may have mentioned previously. Multiple times. So when I saw Lightning McQueen and Mater toys at Target, I didn't hesitate to purchase them. Just as I thought, they have become his favorite things in the world.

He has them while drinking his morning milk.

He has them while watching the Cars movie.

He has them while going places in the car.

He takes them shopping with us.

 These little cars have gone EVERYWHERE with us. I used to be really nervous about him dropping one and consequently losing it, until he dropped one in the grocery store and lost. his. mind. "DROP! MAAAAAY!!! DROP!!!! MOM!!!!" (Maaay = Mater, the brown truck) I have to admit, it's really cute that he has an attachment to these toys. Sometimes it's a little obnoxious, like when I'm by myself trying to get both boys to bed and Johnny won't settle down until I get him Mater and Lightning McQueen, but I can't find them and run around the house repeatedly until I find them in his toy barn... true story. But most of the time, it's adorable.

More evidence as to Johnny's obsession: he has six Cars shirts. I counted. SIX. He had one that I got at Target on clearance:

Yeah, my kid's eating an Oreo-stuffed chocolate chip cookie... judge my parenting skills accordingly.

It was a double whammy: his favorite color, red, and it had Mater on it. But then he wanted to wear it all the time. And I mean every day and every night. After a couple of days and nights I had to put my foot down and put it in the hamper... only to have him take it out again and give it to an unknowing Daddy to put it on him. He's sneaky, that kid. There have been other instances where Daddy will tell him that he can't wear his Mater shirt because it's dirty. So Johnny will say, "Wash!" and put it in the bathtub and run water over it. Or he'll give to me and insist I wash it right then and there. So, I had to invest in a few more shirts. Oh, and a couple sets of pajamas.

Mater and Lightning McQueen making yet another appearance.

I know, you've seen this picture, but he's wearing his black Cars shirt in this one.

Thank you, Walmart.com for your uber-cheap character shirts and even cheaper shipping!

Big shoes to fill

Johnny loves shoes. One of his first words was "shoe". Well, actually, he said "fouf" but that's what he called shoes. It's a real word.

Anyway. He's been picking out shoes for me and John for a long time. There have been many days when I don some neon pink flip flops because those are what he picked out for me... and he flat out refuses to let me wear any other pair of shoes. So, I wear the flip flops. He knows the difference between my shoes and John's shoes, so when we ask for our own shoes, he will actually get Mommy's or Daddy's shoes. Amazing really.

While he will still get our shoes for us, he's now become interested in putting them on:

He may have big feet for his age, but at least they don't fit in John's shoes yet.

Johnny and sadism

Johnny has always laughed at me whenever I stub my toe or hit my head on something. He thinks it's hilarious when I make a sad face. And he erupts into fits of giggles when he's the one doing the hurting:

http://youtu.be/PzF3Xqm5Xmc

At least he's cute when he's trying to make your spleen explode.

Wrong side of the bed

I do enjoy being a mom to a toddler, I really do. And most days are great and those are mostly what I write about here. But not everyday is sunshine and rainbows. Some days are just downright ugly. Like two days ago. Johnny just woke up on the wrong side of the bed and was INCONSOLABLE all day long. He kept handing me toys and saying "Off?" in an attempt to get me to take them apart. Unfortunately, none of these toys came apart, which I told him. Then he'd say, "Please?" and would get all upset when I would deny him yet again. This is what a toddler meltdown looks like (with a baby fussing in the background... sorry about that):

Embedding isn't working again. :( Here's the link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1TcnodEQGQA

Johnny was like this all. day. long. Granted, when I took this video, he hadn't had breakfast yet, but that's only because he refused to eat anything I offered him. He also decided that he wanted to be into anything and everything that we don't like him getting into... like the refrigerator. Now that he can open it, he wants to open it as much as possible. Most of the time, I tell him to close it and distract him with something else. That day? Not possible. He kept getting out the cheese and then refusing to have any when I opened it for him. I finally resorted to holding the doors shut and that resulted in another epic meltdown. Luckily, these days are few and far between for Johnny and I hope they will stay that way... at least until the "terrible twos," right?

In the pool

John made an epic discovery. Our son will swim in the pool... but only if he's naked.

We already knew that our little boy LOVES to be naked and finally John figured out that Johnny'll actually swim when he's not wearing a stitch of clothing. This is a good thing because it means Johnny isn't scared of the pool, but it's a bad thing because now he wants to play in the pool naked all. the. time. No problem when John is home, but when it's just me... it's impossible. I can't exactly jump in and save him with a baby strapped to my chest. Therefore, he throws a fit every afternoon when I won't let him play around the pool. Sometimes a being a good parent = being a life-ruiner.

Toddler and temperament

Johnny is a toddler. Not only because he toddles (now he's actually running, but I think that's still considered "toddling"), but also because he has gotten temperamental about stuff. Some things are small, like one day he will eat an entire clamshell of blueberries and the next he will spit them out and use them to finger paint his food tray.

Other things are huge. Like one day he decided he doesn't like to take baths. WHAAAAAAT?!?! This kid LOVES baths! As evidenced here and here. But no longer. Johnny has sworn off baths and it requires serious bribing to get him into the bathtub.

Here's how a typical negotiation session goes:

John: Okay, Johnny, if you take a bath, I'll let you flush the toilet FIVE times. (Holds up five fingers)

Johnny: Five?

John: Yes, FIVE times, but only if you take a bath.

Johnny: Five!

John: Yes, FIVE times.

Johnny looks hesitantly at bathtub, then at toilet and finally gets into the bathtub.

For serious. Getting to flush the toilet was a great way to get Johnny to take a bath... until he kind of got over it. Then it was FIVE flushes before the bath and FIVE flushes after, which is a good enough reward... for now.
 

Joe Cool

John and I have been through a few pairs of sunglasses since Johnny developed grasping skills. John finally gave up and purchased a whole slew of cheap ones off of the Internet, while I still fight with Johnny if he ever grabs mine. Well, I figured since he was so interested in ours, perhaps he would want some of his own (and they could protect those precious baby blues too!). So I got him some Spider-Man (his choice) sunglasses from Target a few months ago but he hasn't been interested in wearing them until recently. And he looks SO COOL in them, right?

Words

I've been getting all kinds of questions lately about whether Johnny is talking or not. It is my duty to inform you that no, Johnny is not talking. I mean, he says a few words here and there and can get me to guess what he wants, but we are not having full-on conversations.

Before I was a parent, I thought children started talking around 1 year of age or so and I had it in my head that this was a magical milestone when children would start spouting philosophy in short phrases. Apparently that's not how it works. I realized this when Johnny had been saying "da" for "dog" for about two months and the pediatrician was stoked that he has "words" for things. So really, this whole talking thing is entirely subjective.

And here is the subjective list of words that Johnny uses:

• dog
• daddy
• this
• that
• mom
• hot
• cat
• car
• truck
• bus
• giraffe (to be honest, I know he's saying giraffe, but the rest of you would hear "af-va!"
• phone
• water
• yes
• no
• bye
• hat
• spoon
• fork
• berry
• vacuum
• bubble
• blue
• duck 

I'm probably missing a few, but you get the gist of it.

Of all of the words listed, the only one that a stranger would understand is "duck." It sounds a little more German in that the "k" sound at the end comes out as "ach" but it's way closer than giraffe. Here's the thing: I'm the only one who understands all of these words. If we were taking a walk in the morning and he says "bva!" I know that he's pointing out a truck. So does that really count? No idea. I guess since I get it, I should say it counts, so according to me, his vocabulary is not half bad for a nearly-17-month-old.

Anyway. So all of this was to bring you what I consider Johnny's first real word:


I was just absently asking him if he wanted a protein shake one day and he says, "yes" complete with "s" sound at the end... and I almost dropped him out of shock. After only saying "da" for months on end he busts out this one. Way to keep me on my toes, kid.

This face

melts my heart and makes me laugh hysterically at the same time. I got him this used Fisher Price kitchen set from a mom I know and it has a little "radio" that plays three or four different songs. There's a spicy Latin beat that I will always shake my shoulders to so I can make him laugh, so he will skip all of the other songs and go directly to the Latin beat to watch me dance. It's nice that my kid thinks I'm funny... even if the neighbors think I'm strange.

On the Phone

For a while now, Johnny has been taking all kind of objects and putting them up to his ear pretending that they are phones. Anything from a measuring cup to a pen to a real phone. Grandma Durso gave him one of her old cell phones, complete with charger, and Johnny loves walking around with it and talking on it to "Dada." Here he's only chattering a little bit, it was difficult to get him doing it on camera.

Bookworm

Johnny loves books. And when I say love, I really mean TOTALLY AND COMPLETELY OBSESSED. He has some favorites and he'll make you read them over and over and over and over again. Now, this is incredibly cute behavior to the grandparents and aunts and uncles, but I can tell you that being his mom and reading Moo Baa LaLaLa thirty-seven times a day is a little ... irksome. Do I absolutely love seeing his little face light up when I say "Oops!" while reading "Blue Hat Green Hat"? Definitely! Do I get a nervous tick after reading it eleven times straight? Oh yeah. But hey, it's a small price to pay to have a kid who will choose a Dr. Seuss book over television 10 times out of 10, right?

Johnny's favorite cabinet

Readers, meet the Tupperware cabinet. This is where I house my myriad sizes and types of storage containers since I'm crazy about making large amounts of food for dinner so that we can eat leftovers the next day for lunch. Anyway. The point is, this is a large cabinet filled with harmless plastic containers, so of course Johnny loves it. Not only because it's filled with child-safe items that we can throw all over the floor, but also because of this:

Ha! Here I am! It's funny because he'll close himself in and then start crying because he can't get out... so I have to free him from the evil cabinet. And then he'll just climb right back in with a gigantic smile on his face like this is the best game EVER! I'm inclined to agree because it doesn't entail pulling my nose off my face or poking me in the eye.

A video

I managed to get video of Johnny in all his glory this morning, something I wasn't able to do before posting yesterday. In order to enjoy fully, I suggest turning the volume on your speakers up all the way.

OH THE SCREAMING!!!!!

Johnny has learned a completely obnoxious delightful new skill. Shrieking at the top of his lungs. I'm not talking about sweet, excited, happy shrieking that children will resort to in order to convey their pleasure at some game. No, I'm talking about WHY-CAN'T-I-HAVE-THAT-RIGHT-NOW-I-HATE-YOU-MOM kind of shrieking. There is no rhyme or reason for this screaming that I can figure out, he does it when he's happy or frustrated or bored or just downright pissed when he can't have his way. Initially, I tried to give him what he wanted to quell the screaming; for instance, if he was reaching for something on the counter, I would hand him each object in turn to figure out what he wanted. This did not help the screaming situation. Now, I just ignore him when I can. I've decided that worst thing I can do is give some kind of reaction to the screaming so that it is justified, right? Or maybe I just need to give up on that until he learns some words and can communicate more clearly... or something.

All I know is that he learned this horrific invaluable skill right before we have to take a 5 hour flight to the East Coast. Thank you, Johnny, your timing couldn't be worse.

I'm working on a video of the screaming just you can share in this terrible special experience.

Ugh!

Johnny's new pose when he gets tired of something or just tired in general:

Cute, right?