Miles popped a tooth for Fathers' day. That was his little almost 8 month old gift to the big kahuna. Maxwell painted a painting for him. I let him rent a boat and go fishing. In the rain.
Can't win 'em all!
It was a great day, all in all. BJ (who I've now started referring to as just Arni-- I find dropping the first two letters of both our names a little too hilarious. Arni and Rita. Ha ha ha ha!) carb overloaded on pasta, dark chocolate, donuts and red wine. In that order. That was his Fathers' Day gift to himself. ;)
The latest from our end? We are enjoying each and everyday being able to both be home with the boys right now. Since February 1st we've both been home. It's a friggin' blessing of gargantuan proportion. Thank you, Friluftsraadet, for deciding to not extend Arni's contract. Thank you high taxes (which aren't all that high, by the way) for paying us out in manifold gestures: my free (plus stipend) master's degree, high quality subsidized childcare (organic meals, field trips and, like 5:12 ratio of educated pedagogues to kiddos), 5 weeks of mandatory vacation, a year of maternity leave (and a month before the due date so I could lounge like a fatty elephant seal when I felt like it), and now extended paternity leave for the father figure. AMAZING.
Miles has been pulling off the downward dog/plank pose for a month now, but for the dear little life of him cannot figure out how to use his knees instead of his sweaty little toes to push off. I promised Max if he taught baby how to crawl there'd be an ice cream in it for him. No such luck.
The baby has been sitting up for 6 weeks and will be 8 months tomorrow. Maxwell didn't have any teeth until 10 months, so this wee one is surprising us in many ways. I find it so enchanting how each child can be so strikingly unique. I wonder if I'll get over it. And, I still watch Max each day and wonder at how he's really mine. THAT little ball of energy and beauty came outta ME??? Holy guacamole.
We've been sleep training Miles since Arni built a separate bedroom in our previously one giant great roomed old church out here in Sweden (where we've been hiding out since returning from CA in April). Sleeping through the night since last week, that little bugger. Amen.
Maxwell turned 3 in early April and since then it's been a constant barrage of "Why?". About everything. Like, "Why do I have to poop? ... Why did I skin my knee? ... Why is my cup on the table?" I just give up and say, "Why not?" more often than not.
Likewise, he's asking if everything he eats is a vegetable. We've talked to him about how veggies help him grow big muscles and he darts his arm out and widens his eyes to show us how very big he is. "Is oatmeal a veggie? ... Is ice cream a veggie? ... Is a hammy sammy a veggie?" To be honest, he's always been a super eater- in fact, he requested and ate asparagus to go with his hot dogs on his birthday. He loves bell pepper, carrots, peas, broccoli, artichokes, corn, potatoes, green beans, avocado (a fruit, I know!). We've also got him thinking bananas are a special treat. I wonder how long we can keep that one up. He's precious. And, potty trained (during the daytime, at least). And off his binky. And, I'll probably go and jinx myself, but he's never pooped his (f)undies. A few minor pee mishaps-- no biggie in my book.
He loves to go fishing with his old man. And he loves to play with his trucks/tractors/cars and a vintage cardboard barnyard set our friends and neighbors up here in SE gifted him. He's getting so creative and his imagination is really developing. Even though I sometimes feel like an idiot, I get down and play 'house' with his cars and even venture a few story lines of my own.
We had Tia D up from Munich for a last minute Mother's Day gift to me-- we had an impromptu late night party with our CPH-based friends who also have a summer house near us. We trucked it back to CPH with them the next day listening to techno and driving upwards of 85 mph in a brand new BMW- playing autobahn (our adult version of make-believe- so who am I to get embarrassed when playing Big Rig Daddy and his tiny Hot Wheels offspring in a house made up of amassed Teletubby stuffed toys and Baby Mile's Bumbo seat?).
We went to Lucinda Williams that night at the DR Koncert hall. Wonderful night with my bestie. (Although we were among the 10 youngest peeps at the show, I cared not, for stellar music knows no age demographic.) We ate McDonald's awaiting our train from Central Station. I had a Fillet-O-Fish and soft burger with cheese. D had a McFlurry and fries. So what? We don't feign perfection! It was GOOOOOOOOOOOOD, too.
Miles is so soft and cuddly. I am trying to cherish every moment, as with number 2 you know how fleeting each phase is. He goes from contented babe to angry gremlin in .5 second. Take that spatula you need to finish dinner away from him and boy, will you hear it! I don't recall Maxwell being quite as quick to swing moods.
After the usual introduction-of-solids constipation bouts, Miles is a regular pooping dude. You know: big old ones. ;) He loves sweet potatoes, but is very happy with the mashed up bolognese he had alongside us the other night. He was all-eyes on Arni: "where is that next bite, buddy?" he seemed to be thinking while he was still gumming the prior mouthful.
He has also figured out how to generate sounds- banging things on other things, kicking his chubby legs (much chubbier than his bro ever was, and I am so glad for that!). He loves to sit in the grass and let the blades tickle his feet. Splashing in the bathtub? Loves it! Remember the 0-grump in .5 seconds? Just try to take him outta the tub before he's done having his fun.
Maxwell loves the movie Madagascar. He loves bugs, too. We made a bug paradise out of an old glass jar with holes punched in the lid and we spent a morning collecting sundry insects and arachnids for our menagerie. Arni and baby slept in. I think it's important that both boys get one-on-one time with each of us if we can swing it. I like to tuck Max in at night, he asks for me. I feel special. I talk to him about the day we had, walking him through our adventures and experiences, including naughtiness and time outs and the moments that made us crack up. He won't always ask for Mommy to "talk to me" and "fix my blanked" (adjusting his duvet cover and tucking him in), so I relish it.
Three days ago, after dinner, he crawled over to me and climbed in my lap. He said, "I love you, Mommy," for the first time of his own volition. My heart almost stopped and I couldn't hold him close enough. Ranks among the VERY best moments in my life.