Month 35, Part 1: Would you like some driving with that?

Dear Corbin,

You are 35 months old, although it felt like December-January lasted much longer than just a month.

We drove to Madison. We drove to MSP. We drove to Madison. We drove to Indy. We drove to Madison. We drove to MSP. I'm glad we only do that much driving once a year, and I can't even imagine how awful it would be if you were not as good a traveler as you are. Of course we make sure that we have snacks and activities, and we try to time our starts and stops well, but you really do make it pretty easy.

You were in Madison for Christmas a few days before Dad and I drove down. It snowed just enough one day that you complained about not having your snow shovel. You and Grandpa Lam made a giant snowball, at least the size of a basketball. That snowball was all that was left of the snow when Dad and I arrived. It was as if you had gathered up all of the snow from the lawn to make it, and it looked really funny sitting there on the brown grass.

You helped pick out the Christmas tree, and then helped Grandma Lam put the ornaments on it. Every morning, the first thing you did when you came downstairs was turn on the Christmas tree lights. We inadvertently gave you a lot of presents for Christmas. I had gotten a couple of things on sale several months ago, and given them to Grandma for a day that you were all sick of each other and needed a new toy. She misunderstood what I intended and wrapped them up as your Christmas presents. So instead of three or four new toys under the tree, you ended up with twice that many. I like to think that you won't grow up spoiled, but I fear that ship has sailed already.

The exploding volcano toy was a hit, as was a truck from Aunt Alice. Dad went out and found you the biggest balloon that he could (I talked him into a dinosaur shaped balloon to go with the dinosaurs from the volcano toy) and also added a trio of cheap hacky sacks to juggle for you. You like the Hungry Hippos game, which is fun. We happily ignore the actual game rules. You like to feed the marbles to the hippos or decide which hippo gets to eat marbles next. It makes me laugh.

After we opened presents, Dad and Grandma and I went to Christmas Mass. Then we all went over to the Skivers' house to visit with them and all of their kids and grandkids. Grandpa Lam made a delicious Christmas dinner, as usual. And then the next day we all packed up and headed home for a couple of weeks. Our New Year's was pretty quiet, which was just fine with me. We had some friends over to chat and then watch a movie. I don't remember how old I was the first time I stayed up to watch the ball drop in Times Square, but I'm guessing I was around 8 or 9. I wonder how old you'll be when you want to stay up for the first time, and if the pre-Ball Drop show will be any good. It will probably be like the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, and I won't know any of the performers or cultural references, and I'll just make disparaging remarks while you tell me how I need to stop living under a rock.

And then it was time to drive back to Madison. This time we left the dogs behind and had to pack up all of the presents for the Thornes and Spencers. We spent Thursday driving down and had a nice dinner with Grandma and Grandpa Thorne. You and Grandpa read one of the stories on his new Nook. (That was an ironic moment for me and Dad. That's what Dad had suggested getting me for Christmas, and then I told him all of the reasons not to. So he didn't get me anything yet, and keeps telling me that if I want something, I have to pick it out.)

Friday morning, we met Aunt Erin, Charlotte and Baby Ray at the Children's Museum of Indy. We started off in the gallery about trains, then we checked out the dinosaurs. They had a fun recreation of a dig in Montana, so we suited you up with some goggles and you dug around in the "dirt" for a long time. I kept putting the goggles over your eyes, and you kept pushing them up onto your forehead. Once you turned and looked at me, pulled them over your eyes and said, "I'm wearing goggles!" Then you turned back to the dig and pushed them back up. That made me laugh. A little while after that, someone mentioned that the thunderstorm was going to start by the dinosaurs, so we went to check that out. They used some strobes for lightning, which was a little too realistic for you. You started yelling at me to go in the house and get away from the lightning, which is what I always tell you when we read the encyclopedia book about weather and get to the page about lightning. "What do you do when it lightnings?" "Go in the house!" I never thought about adding the caveat, "Unless it's fake lightning from strobe lights." Clearly, I have been totally misleading you.

We also rode on their antique carousel, on a black horse named Pete, and went down the two story Yule Slide together. We checked out one of the science-y sections that Dad remembered from when he was a kid, but they'd changed it all around and he wasn't impressed. You discovered the construction site, though, and were terribly sad when we decided it was lunch time and wouldn't just leave you there the rest of the day. We spent that afternoon and night at the Spencers' house, having dinner and opening presents with them. They were generous as always; we had plenty of new music and new books to occupy us on the drive and new train track to keep us busy once we got home.

We stopped to have lunch with Jesse Grenz at UIUC on the way to Madison. So far, he only sees you once a year, so it's always fun to see his reaction to how much you've grown. You weren't talking the last time he saw you, so this was a big change this time. UIUC is a convenient stop coming from Indy, and then as the afternoon starts getting really long, we hit the stretch of highway that runs past the big wind farms, so that's a nice distraction. It's the second day of driving, from Madison to MSP, that is the really hard part and makes us really glad to be home.

And then I spent Sunday night getting all of your things ready to start pre-school on Monday, but more about that later.

Doing that much traveling can be pretty hard. But one of the reasons that I'm glad you travel so well is that family trips are some of the best memories I have from growing up. I hope that we're able to have lots of great family trips in the future. At the very least, we know you want to see the Grand Canyon, which you discovered on a placemat at Denny's. Yes, really.

Love,
Mom

Month 34, or Past, Present and Future

Dear Corbin,

You are 34 months old, and it seems like a lot of months and also very few, all at the same time. Dad and I had breakfast with the Stauffers the other day, and I was holding their new baby girl and thinking about how strange it will be to hold an infant again. Baby Sister is going to seem so tiny next to you! Which is also funny, because you're not a really big kid. You're still wearing 24 month pants, after all.

You've taken to climbing all over lately. You climb up the sides of the arm chair, and stand on the arms of the couch. You can climb into your high chair all by yourself. But you still haven't climbed out of your crib, which is fine with me. You did fall off the arm of the chair once and scared yourself and Grandma Lam half to death. I'm sure I should be teaching you not to climb on the furniture, but instead I just keep telling you not to fall off. Judging from the behavior of me and Uncle Alex when we were kids, you come by the mountain goat gene honestly, so you may as well just learn some attendant caution.

You and I managed to survive our couple of weeks together. We did have some new toys to keep us occupied. I opened up a new figure-eight train set and we built some big, twisty railroad tracks. I also sewed up a couple of stuffed puffer fish and we had fun with them. Dad finished up some speakers he was building, and I also made a new book box for you by covering a milk crate in some white canvas. Part of your climbing included the previous one, which was just cardboard and beginning to fall apart. Of course, now that I've made the new one, you haven't stepped foot on it again.

We went to visit your pre-school this month. We found out that your teacher, Rachel, is someone Dad knew already--he used to date her younger sister. Quite the case of, "it's a small world after all." It was nice to feel like we already had a connection, though, and to have some confidence in her. When we enrolled you in her classroom, Rachel went ahead and labelled your coat hook, which made all of the other children very curious. When we finally arrived for your visit, it was practically a mob scene with the other children all wanting to meet you at once. Dad and I went over some paperwork with the director while you were visiting, saw the parent resource center, and found our "mailbox." You and Rachel seemed to have a good visit; she feels that you'll make a fine transition into the classroom. In one way, she already knows you pretty well--she labelled your coat hook with your name and with a picture of a puffer fish.

One of the boys in the class who came over as soon as we walked in asked me how old you were. I said you would be three in February. He said he would be five soon. I looked at him, trying to imagine you as tall as he was, and it was hard to imagine. Then last night, Dad and I were watching Grandpa Lam's movies of you from your birthday this year, and it's amazing how much you've changed. On your birthday in Feb, you signed "more" to say that you wanted to blow out the candles again. On Grandpa's birthday last month, you said, "Do it again!" loud and clear. Amazing.

Dad and I also managed to finally get our wills signed and witnessed. It's always morbid to think about yourself dying, but it's also a really important part about planning for your inevitable future. Dad and I have had a lot of discussions about what might happen if one of us died, and some of them were actually serious. I mean, I'm sure at least half of them were serious.

Wills are important when you're talking about financial and legal arrangements. What they don't address is an emotional legacy, which I think is equally important. Nobody will ever love you as much or in the same way that your dad and I do, and I hope that you never question that. But there are many people in your life who would give you support if you need it. Your grandparents and your aunts and uncles will always listen, and they will always have your best interests at heart. You can reach out to our extended families, to your great-aunts and -uncles. You can even talk to someone outside the family, like Aunt Tabetha or Uncle Jesse, or the Chapmans. Life can be complicated, and decisions can be hard. It's important to get good advice from people that you can trust. And really, that's just as true with Dad and I living. There might come a time when you want advice from someone who isn't your parents, and that's okay. Although, if Uncle Jesse's advice contains the instructions, "OK, now you're ready to pour in the liquid nitrogen," you'd better be calling from somebody else's kitchen.

Love,
Mom


Mom's getting fat:
Puffer fish!

Your train brought Christmas trees to the little city:

Month 33, or Happy Thanksgiving!

Dear Corbin,

We've had an eventful month, this November. You were in Madison at the beginning of the month to keep Grandma and Grandpa Lam all healthy. Then Dad and I both had off of work on the 11th, for Veteran's Day, and we all went to the Science Museum. You have become interested in volcanoes and lava, thanks to one of the illustrations in an alphabet book for the Leap Pad. You pretty much ignore every other page in the book, and you made us look up videos of lava on YouTube. You make us draw big volcanoes in your sketchbook now, alongside the hot air balloons and puffer fish.

So when a friend tipped us off to the Natural Disasters exhibit, we decided we'd better take you. It was about earthquakes, tornadoes and hurricanes, too, but you didn't care about any of those topics. You and I sat at the volcano simulation machine for about half an hour making different types of volcanoes and watching them explode. I got you to visit the part about tornadoes for about 5 minutes before you wanted to go back to the volcanoes. Then we got to see a demonstration about lava, and they even poured hot lava out right in front of us. It was a tiny little amount, but it was still neat to see it. We looked at the dinosaur skeletons, too, but you were sad that we didn't let you climb into the displays and touch them all. Grandma bought you glow in the dark stars and planets for your ceiling, which is something I had as a kid, too, but I think these stars will come down without peeling the paint off of the ceiling, which is a definite improvement.

The next Saturday we had our first real snowfall. We went down in the afternoon to celebrate Grandpa Lam's birthday. When we got home, you helped us shovel the front walk. Then when I wanted to you come in so we could go to dinner, you thought that was the worst idea ever. And when we got home and we wouldn't let you stay outside and play in the snow all night, you were even more upset. Between you and your father--and the dogs--we might as well move to Alaska and get it over with.

And then it was the week of Thanksgiving. I had the day off on Wednesday, so you and I and Grandma Lam went to have breakfast at Midtown Global Market. They do a children's program every Wed morning, and it was the day that dancers were going to come from the Cowles Center. You liked listening to the music and watching everyone else dance, but you didn't want to do any dancing yourself. Aunt Lena flew in on Wed night, after your bed time, so you didn't get to see her until Thursday morning. We made breakfast here and then Thanksgiving dinner at the apartment. In between, we fixed the fence in the side yard to keep the dogs in the back yard, played in the mud, raked leaves, and Dad started yet another speaker project. On Friday, we avoided the malls, and today everyone left town after breakfast. Aunt Lena flew back to Norfolk and G&G Lam drove down to Madison. I have the next two weeks off from work, so it'll be you and me finding things to keep ourselves occupied.

This is the start of big changes in your routine for the next several months. I was telling you the other day that it was going to be Thanksgiving, and then Christmas, and then time to visit Indiana, and then time to start school, and then time to sleep in the big bed, and then Baby Sister is going come and live with us. Hopefully, we'll be able to keep up some of our good routines around naps and bed time, so that we can go through big changes with a well-rested you. And a well-rested me, for that matter.

Your first day of preschool will actually be the Monday after we get back from Indy, so hopefully the trip won't have been too crazy. You'll be enrolled in the five mornings a week class, from 8:30am to 11:30am. I'm really glad that we'll have a couple of months to get you settled there before Baby Sister arrives. I think it will be very helpful for everyone. When you were born, we didn't have any really need to get you on a schedule, or even much of a routine, and looking back I think it would have been helpful. My brain works better that way, and I think yours does, too. So I am interested to see if Baby Sister will respond well to being on a routine right off the bat. I'm a little bit nervous for your transition to school, for a couple of reasons. You're so used to one-on-one attention all day and I worry that you won't like being in a class. Also, I'm not looking forward to the massive amount of new germs that I'm sure will accompany you home. We might as well buy stock in Chlorox wipes right now.

You're a talking fool these days, and you have picked up some funny phrases. You ask for "one more last book," or "one more last thing." You are getting more and more creative in your play. You and Dad play lava monsters. You told me today that the little hole in the table was an ant hole, and that ants lived in the table. You like to run your hand around things and people, pretending that it's a spider. The other night you hooted at me and said, "I'm an owl." So I said, "Time to snuggle in your comfy nest, little owl." But when I tried that the next night, you said, "It's my comfy CRIB," in that indignant tone of voice that you've already perfected. I get things wrong on purpose sometimes, just to hear you correct me, because it cracks me up.

We watched an episode of Yo Gabba Gabba the other day about staying clean. They sang a song about tiny icky germs, which you wash away with the help of Super Soapy Pal and some magic shampoo. Which might explain the songs that you requested the other night.

In order:
the itsy bitsy spider
the icky icky spider
the clean clean spider
the just a little bit dirty spider

I also had to sing you "Madeline Over the Rainbow", after buying you the book Madeline and the Bad Hat. You have started finding a lot of cute ways to delay your bed time, which is frustrating to me. I find myself losing patience with you, and that's when you pull out the big guns of needing to use the potty or being scared. The other night, I had to send Dad in to you, and then eat ice cream and watch the BBC Pride and Prejudice to relax. I have a feeling over the next couple of weeks that Dad will be doing bedtime a lot just because I'll have you all day. It'll probably be better for everyone's sanity. And that's how much I love you--I do what's good for your sanity, even if you'd rather I just sang "Frosty the Snowman" to you another hundred times in a row.

Love,
Mom


The volcano page in the Leap Pad book:
You and Dad drawing volcanoes:
It was so warm on Thanksgiving, we played outside without out coats on!

Baby News

My mother's wish has come true: we're having a girl. Pack up the girly clothes, Auntie Erin! Ultrasound showed all good and normal things, so here's hoping she keeps up the good work being a healthy, average fetus. She's measuring right on for our March 26 due date, but I'm still guessing she'll be early, like Corbin.

This is the full profile shot. She's facing up, with her hand by her face.
This is the 3D shot. We're looking down at her face, and she's got her hands by her mouth. She looks like a little piggie in a cave, because of how the ultrasound makes her nose look big.
Creepy face view with one eye! Creepy! (I love shot like this.)

Halloween!

Happy Birthday, Adam!

Thirty-eight!

Month 32, or Some Things That Are Big

Dear Corbin,

It's been a pretty quiet month for us. Your uncle Alex headed out to spend about three months in the Persian Gulf. I managed to see him before he left, on a trip for a museum event in Norfolk. Aunt Lena is coming here for Thanksgiving, so we're all looking forward to that. I brought you home a crab stuffed animal, since you like anything with "big grabbers." You actually ended up with several new toys this month. Holy Name had their big rummage sale, so now Grandma and Grandpa have a train set at their apartment, too. You also went to Madison with them, and came back with a giant motorized back-hoe.


Most of the leaves have fallen off the tree in our front yard, but the two by the street are still hanging on. We did round one of raking in the front, which you enjoyed this year because you had your own little rake to use. You especially enjoyed raking apart the piles that we were making. Then you helped Dad take the leaves back to the raspberry patch in the wagon. You pulled the wagon yourself for a few trips, and then had fun riding with leaves covering you up to your chest. When we took your shoes and pants off later, you had the predictable amount of leaves all over your socks and underwear.

We're still working on the potty training. Some days are more successful than others. You've had a couple of nights where you want to go potty after lights out, so we need to add that to our brush teeth time in the bathroom. You do seem to enjoy deciding which underpants to wear in the morning, though, and I really laughed one day when you had an accident and then told me, "I pooped on Thomas!"

Other funny things you have said lately:
Lock me up! [while sitting in Arrow's crate]
I like to eat bacon.
Let's do it!
Can I have it? Can I have it please? I said please! [said without pauses]
Me, about the train track I put together: I'm amazing! You: You're NOT amazing.

Dad finished building your twin bed, so on Saturday we moved the couch out (into the van, to go back to Madison) and put your big bed in your room. We picked up a mattress, and I even grabbed some sheets at Target for it, so it's all put together and made up. Unfortunately, it's destroyed any sense of organization (never mind the feng shui) in your room because it's larger than the couch. We're going to have to take another couple of days to figure out how to rearrange the rest of the furniture so that everything fits again. We were going to have to do some of that in order to fit baby stuff in anyway, of course, but I didn't expect quite this much. It's always such a trial when we have to organize something. I get all excited and make great plans, and then your father mocks me, and then I get revenge by making him go to Ikea.

I think the furniture change is combining with some normal toddler sleep disruption to make life difficult, too. You're at the age where nightmares can start, and they just might have. You got all interested in storm clouds and lightning and tornadoes the other day. We have a Charlie Brown encyclopedia about the weather, and you like to page through it until you get to the picture of the tornado and the page about lightning. The first day that you brought it up, I tried to find some good storm footage on Youtube. Epic Mom Fail. You were up at 9pm that night, telling me all about how you thought there was lightning outside and asking me if tornadoes would come in the house. I don't know if you hadn't been to sleep yet, or if you actually had a bad dream, but I felt pretty stupid for encouraging you earlier.

We went to visit a second Montessori preschool. There were things we liked more than the first one, and things we liked less. Neither of those schools had an opening for you, but we'll go visit a third school in November which might. That school is close to the Sculpture Garden and the Walker Art Center, which sounds great until I start thinking that you'll grow up wanting to be a modern artist. (Although, at least if you become a sculpture artist, you'll probably learn how to weld, and that would be awesome.) I found myself watching you play trains all weekend and thinking, Too bad there isn't a preschool that emphasizes playing with trains. You would ace that curriculum.

The biggest news this month has taken place far outside of our little home sphere. Politics around the world seem to be changing very quickly, and I wonder how your adult life will be affected. So many people today are calling loudly for social and economic changes. I wonder if they will happen, and how. I am not a person who joins in movements, who goes to protests or espouses causes. I'm happy to vote for people who I believe will work toward goals that I agree with. I'm happy to email the mayor with an idea. I'm happy to email my Congressmen and -women. If you become a person who is happy to protest and march, I hope that you will do it with respect. I hope that you will remember that systems can be improved from both the outside and from the inside, from the bottom and from the top, and that meeting in the middle is a worthy outcome. And I hope that you write clever signs and that I don't have to bail you out of jail too many times.

Love,
Mom