Jon's blog

School bus

2011-08-25T13:40:00.002-05:00

The last two years, William has gone to the elementary school just a mile from our house. Because it was so close, we usually dropped him off in the car. A few times he and I rode our bikes together to his school in the morning, on the bike path around the park. (I'm going to miss doing that with him.) But he's always wanted to ride on the school bus like the other kids.

Two weeks ago we found out that Evie was accepted into Kindergarten at a new charter school, but William was on the waiting list. Evie was so excited to go on the bus, she got up before 6 a.m. to catch it. She loves going to her new school. Meanwhile, I've been driving William 45 minutes to a day camp every morning, which he's been having fun at while he waits for his school year to start.

We've begged, prayed, and waited in hopes that William and Evie could both go to the same school together, somewhere, anywhere. (Evie was accepted into two schools, where William was not. And at William's normal school, Evie was not. It's been a crazy couple weeks.)

Then late last night I got an email from the charter school that let us know William was in, too. I told him the news this morning, and he quickly got a gentle smile on his face that turned into a big grin and he genuinely and innocently and calmly said "Yippee! Now I get to ride the bus!" I don't think I've ever seen him so happy.

Tootsie Roll

2011-06-24T15:50:00.004-05:00

This morning as I was putting my lunch together in my little Igloo portable cooler, Evie hopped up on her tip-toes a couple times to see inside. Then she ran around to the other side of the counter and said, "I'll give you a treat for your lunch!" She grabbed her bag of candy from the parade the night before and picked out a little Tootsie Roll for me and dropped it into the cooler (I'm eating it now), and I thanked her and gave her a big hug. It was the perfect treat.

Evie has an inherent generosity and love bigger than anyone I know. She loves sugar -- I often have to make her stop eating large amounts of whatever sweet thing she has (she inherited my sweet-tooth, which I got from my dad) -- but she willingly shared her candy with me, no prompting at all.

Mirjam has told me that when she plays with our friend's autistic daughters, sometimes she'll get pinched, bitten, pushed, squeezed, or have her hair pulled, but her response is not crying or fear. She grimaces and laughs as best she can while telling the other girl, "That's enough" in a very kind, motherly way.

(William, too, is very generous with the other kids. It's uncanny how well they all play together.)

It's incredible to me how loving and generous Evie is. It is truly a gift to have such an enormous heart like that. And she is truly a gift to me and our family.

Motel 6 and AmericInn

2011-06-07T15:20:00.003-05:00

Last summer I packed the family in our new (pre-owned) green minivan and headed to Utah for my cousin's funeral. It was a quick trip, there and back in less than a week. Going both directions we stayed overnight at a Motel 6 in Big Springs, Nebraska. William and Evie loved it.

I remember as a child the excitement about staying at a hotel. The rarity of it, the big beds, already made for you. The TV in your room. Going door to door and visiting friends in their rooms. It was just exciting. And William and Evie we're excited, too.

When we drove to Texas for Christmas last year, too, we stayed at a dingy, beat-up Motel 6 on the south side of Des Moines, near the airport. Still, the kids were thrilled. We got there late at night, and I carried them from the car to the bed, where I'm pretty sure they excitedly snuggled under the blankets, even if half asleep. Of course, the next morning they were ecstatic to be in a Motel 6, and couldn't wait to turn on the TV in their room!

On the way back from Texas, I decided to forego the Motel 6 in Iowa and drive straight through to home, even though I knew the kids wanted to stay overnight again, and I knew the last few hours would be the most tiring. In the end, looking back, I probably should have stopped at the Motel 6 one last time. It was like a slumber party with the family.

William and Evie now recognize the big blue and red sign glowing over the freeway; when they see it they say, "Motel 6!" And a couple days ago I found an unopened little Motel 6 soap at the bottom of some box. I gave it to William and Evie yesterday morning, and they were both so excited to get it, especially William. "It's Motel 6 soap!" He ran to his bathroom to try it out and wanted to show me how he could make it pop up, slipping out of his hand by squeezing it tightly through his little fingers.

Also, when Ben and Jenne got married in Wisconsin a couple years ago, we stayed at the AmericInn, which they also loved, just a couple doors down from Grandma and Grandpa, whom they loved to visit in their room. I think I remember Evie (or maybe William) discovering that their room was just like ours!

Upon returning to our home, we passed by another AmericInn just down the road from our house. As we passed by, he cleverly proclaimed, "Schau mal, unser Hotel!" We didn't understand what he meant for a second, until we realized he had recognized the big sign high on top of the pole, above the hotel building. We had passed by it a hundred times and never made the connection, but he did. Now even sometimes still today, he'll see it and say the same thing as we drive by.

And sometimes I'll point it out to him, just to hear him say it again.

Weight

2011-05-31T12:15:00.002-05:00

This weekend we visited our friends in Sheboygan. I enjoyed every moment of being with them. Friday night, after the kids were in bed, I went grocery shopping with Ben, and on a whim we watched a really funny movie (Knight and Day). Perfect.

Saturday, I traveled to the Chicago temple with Ben, the ward's seminary students, and some other ward leaders. I spent two quiet hours alone in the waiting room while they did baptisms, and I read a book (the latest Joseph Smith biography) studying each page. It was a peaceful day. That night Ben, Suzanne, Mirjam, and I went out for dinner together at a small Mexican place as thick fog rolled in from Lake Michigan.

The next morning we went to church together, and Ben delivered a wonderful, calm, thoughtful sermon on the atonement. "In the temple rests the power and the means to achieve the consummate purpose of the atonement": to just get back home to God and Jesus Christ. They just want us to be with them. He ended by noting that as each of us becomes one with Jesus Christ, we also grow closer to each other, becoming unified among ourselves. We all have our weaknesses, we all have our faults and our problems, he said, and we need to help each other and support each other, not criticize each other, and become unified and one with each other (specifically referring to his ward family). It was very well put, and a great little twist on the end of the sermon.

Ben was recently called to be bishop of his ward (he's only my age, with four small kids). I noticed he was generally calmer and full of thought. I noticed how other people automatically (subconsciously) looked to him for direction and decisions. (And he also mentioned the burden of criticism if someone didn't agree with something.) At least once during the weekend I heard him say, "This calling is really hard," exhaling as he did it, almost in exasperation.

When Ben came home after church on Sunday, after interviewing some people in the ward, I noticed his head hanging low from the weight of his calling. It reminded my of the mental image I had from a Truman Madsen talk, about the fullest, heaviest heads of wheat hanging the lowest. I mentioned to Ben about how someone once chided the prophet Joseph Smith for looking down and that he should cheer up. Joseph's reply was that if he had as much weighing on his mind as the prophet did (the weight of the entire church), is head would hang low, too. Ben mentioned the hardest part is not being able to talk to his wife about some of the more difficult parts of the job (when people confess things to him).

I tried to lift his spirits, talking to him, as much as I could, while not getting in the way. I felt like they sincerely enjoyed our company, and we certainly enjoyed being there with them. Mirjam and our kids didn't want to leave. Their kids asked when they could come visit us. It was a good weekend with our friends. We just hung out, let the kids play together (they all had a lot of fun together, and not a single fight), spent time talking and catching up, went out to dinner, played guitar together, watched Lost and a movie together, and just generally enjoyed each others' company.

No (and pop-ups)

2011-05-30T12:04:00.000-05:00

One of Johanna's favorite words is "no." And it's pretty cute. Sometimes she draws it out in a long, playful "niaaooooo." Sometimes it's upset (when she's tired). Sometimes its in response to a question she doesn't understand.

For example, driving back in the car from Wisconsin this weekend, Evie started asking Johanna (while her car seat was still facing backward so she could see the kids), "Do you want to ride on a horse?" And Johanna answered with a simple "no." It went on an on:

"Do you want to ride on a house?" "No."
"Do you want to ride on a book?" "No."
"Do you want to ride on a pony?" "No."
"Do you want to ride on a car?" "No."
"Do you want to ride on a pillow?" "No."
"Do you want to ride on a puppy?" "No."
"Do you want to ride on a blanket?" "No."
"Do you want to ride on a cracker?" "No."
"Do you want to ride on a sandwich?" "No."
"Do you want to ride on a cheek?" "No."

Evie was cracking up, and Johanna enjoyed the attention.

Meanwhile, William created his own pop-up book of "the four heads, the ones in the rock" (Mount Rushmore). I helped him spell each president's name, and he did the rest, carefully cutting little tabs out of the paper and bending them back the opposite way, and drawing in pen four heads, with arrows point to each of them, next to the words "This is" and the explanation at the bottom "These are the presidents."

It was a good road trip.

Sheboygan! (Road trip)

2011-05-30T11:05:00.001-05:00

We spent the long Memorial Day weekend in Sheboygan, WI, visiting our friends the Holmeses. At the end of the car trip back, William and Evie said it was just a short car ride. (We've taken much longer trips to Utah and Texas.)

Right before we entered Minnesota, we stopped and turned Johanna's car seat around to face forward. She could now see Mama much better. (She had been freeing both arms from the straps and grabbing the side of the car seat with her two hands and wrenching her neck around to look forward before we turned it around.)

She was very excited about this new development. She stopped whining and crying (she was tired, it was late), and instead she happily waved her legs and feet now that they were free. She kept asking for books (saying "buu, buu" while clapping her hands together to make the book sign). She also held her feet in her hands and slapped them together while saying "sh, sh" the sign and sound for shoes. (Before, her feet didn't have nearly the same freedom, as they were up against the seat-back that her previously backwards-facing car seat was facing.)

In the Subway at the gas station, she saw a rack full of stuffed bears and puppies. While we were eating at the table, she made the sign for bear (fingers scratching at your chest) while making the uuuh-uuuh "I want" whine. She can communicate so well now, with her signs. She can also make the sign (and panting noise) for puppy. Any time she sees or hears a dog (stuffed or real), she pats her leg and starts panting. It's adorable. She also looked out the window and saw flags and banners for a fireworks store across the street, and she kept saying "woooow!"

When we got home, William and Evie helped clean up everything out of the minivan. They were great travelers, fun play-friends for the other kids, and good helpers. It was a good road trip.

Honey crab

2011-05-27T11:19:00.000-05:00

Johanna took a while to start walking on her feet. She's still not quite confident with her balance all the time, but she's learning well. Up until now she's been "walking" on her knees. It's adorable to watch, and she can really move on those little legs!

She seemed to not crawl very much, instead opting for the knees as a sort of halfway point between crawling and walking. I'd try to show her how to crawl by modeling it for her myself, and occasionally she would crawl with me (and she still does crawl sometimes) but mostly it was knees, even though it wasn't quite as fast.

Last week she did something different though. She was up on her feet, then bended over at the waist and touched her hands and head to the ground without bending her knees. I can't remember why she did it that way, but she thought it was funny, so I joined her. Then we started "walking" around like that on our hands and feet, and she thought it was so fun she started laughing. Every time she collapsed to her knees, she got back up again. And so I chased her around on the carpet on hands and feet.

Danke

2010-04-05T12:09:00.002-05:00

This morning before I left for work, I decided to say a quick prayer for the day. I asked Evie if she wanted to pray with me, and she enthusiastically agreed. (One of her favorite affirmative words is "sure!")

She said "come here!" and led me into the kids' room, where she previously placed a few pieces of colorful fabric on the carpet, for a picnic. We kneeled down between the picnic spots, and I asked her if I should say the prayer, or if she wanted to. She said she wanted to.

She folded her arms, closed her eyes, and in her three-year-old voice, offered this up: "Heavenly Father, danke für Arbeit (work), danke für Target und Post (Mirjam and Evie and Johanna were going to run errands this morning), im Namen Jesu Christi, amen."

Perfect. She was very happy with her prayer, and I couldn't have thought of anything better myself. She gave me a big hug, and I kissed her on the cheek, and rode off to work.

Summer girl

2010-03-08T14:08:00.003-06:00

Yesterday afternoon we all went for a long walk around the lake, in the sunshine and melting snow that alternately covered the path. We took two strollers, so Evie and William could switch off resting their legs. (Johanna got to stay in her stroller the whole time.)

As we came home, I pointed out the snow tunnel they had built early this winter, on the side of driveway/parking area. The snow was melting quickly in the warm weather, and part of the top had already caved in.

Inside our garage, and still in the stroller, Evie got a sad look on her face, and pitifully said she wanted to have more snow. I tried to console her as I unbuckled her from the stroller. I asked her in German if she liked the snow ("Magst du den Schnee?"). She nodded, her lower lip starting to droop.

In German again, I asked if she likes winter, and if she's a winter child ("Magst du den Winter? Bist du ein Winterkind?"). She thought about it for just a split moment, and answered, in English, "No, I'm a summer girl!"

I was surprised to hear her quick understanding of the German phrase and the immediate, appropriate, and mirrored response in a different language. I laughed out loud and gave her a big hug, and we went inside.

Olympics at home

2010-03-01T10:17:00.002-06:00

William and Evie had fun watching the Vancouver Olympics with us the past two weeks, and reenacting many of the events.

They have chased each other around the living room, pretending to be on ice skates, pushing each other from behind, just like the team short-track events. Once, he told Evie to stand a few feet in front of him before they started, just like the long-distance speed skaters do, because of the curves in the oval track.

And every time he lined up, William would stretch his fingers straight out and held tightly together, lift one arm behind him and bent at the elbows, crouch over slightly and bend his knees. Then he would utter in a low, long tone, "Rrready..." (just like the voice at the starting line always did on TV), and then "pschew!" -- at the sound of his home-made gunshot noise, he and Evie would take off, scampering around the living room at top speed. A couple times, William kept running/skating along the carpet as long as the speed skaters on TV were still circling the large oval. That really got his heart going, but I let him go, because it was going to tire him out for bedtime.

Earlier last week, William set up a track of pillows across the floor, recreating the moguls ski event. He and Evie would start near the couches, then go sliding/running along the carpet, and hop over each of the "jumps" in front of them, past the kitchen, toward their bedroom door.

After watching the end of the Canada/USA hockey game, William pulled out his red plastic fireman's helmet, the big red plastic baseball bat (holding it down on the floor), his little baseball glove, and a round red wood block as the puck. He cleared the chair away from the kitchen table, and stood in front of the two metal legs, as he played "Canada hockey" -- he looked just like the goalie. I got out my old walking cane and turned it upside down to send the "puck" toward him across the carpet, using the crook of the cane as my hockey stick. Evie also shot a couple goals with my help.

Even William's favorite online video games gave way to some new Olympic favorites: bobsled, snowboarding, and "ski and shoot."

Last night, as the party came to a close, I told them the next Winter Olympics were in four years, and they would be 9 and 7 years old. As I said that out loud, I realized how quickly those four years will go, and how different they will be. I quickly rehearsed in my mind all the fun we've had with them this time, and hoped we could recreate some of it next time.

As I put them to bed, William said he was sad that the Olympics were over. "I love the Winter Olympics," he said. "Me too," I told him. I kissed their heads as I sent them off to sleep, to dream of all the events they had participated in.

First night

2010-01-04T09:49:00.003-06:00

Tonight was the first night home for our new baby, Johanna. William and Evie were very excited to see her. They've been waiting for months, and asking for the past few days/weeks when she's going to finally arrive.

So after church, I loaded William and Evie into our new green minivan, and we drove through the city to the hospital. As we pulled around the parking ramp to the patient pick-up spot, Mirjam, the baby, and the nurse stepped outside into the bitter cold. I kept the engine running, quickly loaded Mama and Baby into the car, and we started our trip home.

Late that night, after Mirjam and I had put William and Evie to bed, we were sitting on the couch, trying to get Johanna to stop crying and fall asleep. From behind us, we heard the kids' door open -- I was about to stand up and send whomever it was straight back to bed.

But when we turned around, we saw a squinty-eyed William quietly but quickly scooting across the carpet on the red PlasmaCar that aunt Karen gave the kids for Christmas, pushing every few feet with his two legs stroking in tandem. He had heard his new baby sister crying, and he wanted to come see her and help her.

We let him say hello and good night, and give her a kiss, and he scooted back into his bedroom on the red plastic car, closed the door behind him, and climbed back up into his bunk bed again.

Good morning

2009-10-15T09:13:00.006-05:00

Act 1. All of a sudden, William walked into the bathroom this morning, right as I was getting in the shower. He opened the mirrored door on the small wooden cabinet that holds all my toiletries and grabbed the brown plastic canister of my American Crew pomade. "Was machst du?" I asked. "Ich mache mein hair spikey," he answered, quite matter-of-factly. And with my pomade in hand, he left.

Act 2. Evie and William have grown fond of the word "poopie." Instead of fighting a losing battle, I play a long and have fun with them. We call each other "Poopie" as a sort of pet name: "Hi, Poopie" or "Gute Nacht, Poopie." It sounds cuter if you don't think about it. Occasionally William, and sometimes Evie, will call me Papi, which to my ears is very endearing (maybe it's a mix of Papa and puppy?).

Act 3. Somewhere along the line, soap got involved, and at times they just run around saying "poopy soap, poopy soap!" I have no idea where they got it, or what sense it's supposed to make, but they sure think it's funny. So this morning as I'm in the shower, Evie came into the bathroom for a moment, just like William, and then left. As soon as she closed the door behind her, she opened it quickly again, said "poopy soap" and closed it again.

Hello Kitty!

2009-04-29T12:09:00.003-05:00

Evie loves Hello Kitty. She loves pink. She loves her dresses and princesses and those Barbie movies with the awful, catchy, melodic songs. But that's another story.

In the last few days, Evie has taken to crawling on top of the couch in front of the big window and laying there on her stomach, across the big back cushion. Sometimes that how she watches a video on TV. Sometimes she stares out the window, following the birds and the squirrels from her perch in the sun.

"Hallo, Evie-Katze," I say as I notice her from the kitchen. She doesn't move, or acknowledge my acknowledgment. Without looking up, she only smirks a little, and resumes whatever else she was doing.

Puzzle

2009-04-26T19:51:00.004-05:00

This afternoon, William asked if he could play on the computer. I randomly guessed that he was referring to his new Lego Star Wars game that he got for his birthday. He's allowed to play it once per day, with his sticker chart providing the necessary backup anytime he tries to get in too much screen time.

But when he asked today, I simply pulled out the trump card and calmly explained that we don't play video games on Sunday. He didn't blink. "I mean a church game!"

Of course! What was I thinking?

So I fired up lds.org, clicked on The Friend, and to my amazement saw that the Church is totally rocking this whole online experience thing with it's kids magazines. I clicked on the "Play Games" link. What happened next took my totally by surprise.

"Puzzle" said William. I couldn't believe it. Of the three options to choose from on the screen in front of him, "Puzzles" was the middle one. So I asked him, pointing with the mouse, "Did you read that?"

I then pointed to the other P word, right next to it, slowing moving the mouse under the word from left to right, and he said "Picture."

I couldn't believe it. (Yes, I already wrote that, but I thought it twice, too.) He had read two words, that I had never seen him read before, without prompting of any kind from me. Incredible.

So he clicked on the "Hidden Pictures" button, played with that for at least a half-hour, and totally forgot about Lego Star Wars. For now.

Say "cheese"

2009-03-26T15:22:00.003-05:00

William this morning asked his mom for a "boy cheese". After he asked a second time, and clarified "not a girl cheese" I understood. He wasn't making a joke -- he meant it sincerely. He just wanted a boy-cheese sandwich, please.

Neighbors

2009-03-19T17:26:00.005-05:00

William is riding his bike outside right now. (It's the green and purple one with white tires that our neighbor Steve gave him last year.) William is wearing his yellow fireman jacket; it's still a bit chilly today. He just rode across the drive to our Steve's house. Steve is in a wheelchair (but still quite active).

William set his bike on the ground in front of Steve's house and walked over to the newspaper that was wrapped in a thin, orange plastic bag and lying on the lawn. William picked up the newspaper from off the grass and stepped back onto Steve's front porch.

He just stood there a minute, facing the door, not moving -- looking at the paper, at the porch, at the tall, thin window next to the front door, thinking about where to put the paper. Then he pulled down on the gold handle of the storm door, opened it a little, placed the newspaper inside, and closed the door against it, making sure it would stay put.

Seeing that it wasn't going to fall down, he pushed the doorbell button with his little finger, then got back on his bike to ride away and help Burt's newspaper find the front door, too.

Snugs as bugs

2009-02-20T10:17:00.002-06:00

The past few nights we've put Evie and William to bed around the same time, in the same room, which means they sing and chat and play. Evie especially loves to lie (or sit) in her bed and sing. Sometimes she'll tussle Williams hair if I've wrapped him up tight in his blanket "like a baby, when William was small," he says. (Like a burrito, I say.) Sometimes they'll even climb into each other's beds.

For a while I tried to put a stop to the playing, insisting they lay down and sleep. A couple days ago I was too lazy to go back in, so Mirjam and I just sat there on the couch watching Biggest Loser or something.

Around 8:30 or 9:00 I noticed they were both quiet. I remembered how I would sometimes chat with my brother at night when we were little and shared a room, or on campouts with the other boys in the tent. After a while the conversation would naturally die down and taper off into silence.

So now we've sort of adapted, too. We put the kids to bed around 7:00 p.m., and I let them chat and sing for a while, with the Hello Kitty night-light still glowing. I might go in if it gets too rowdy, but usually I'll just check in around 8:00 to turn the night-light off, give them another kiss on the head, pack them up tight again in their blankets, and let them doze off naturally.

Last night I came home around 9:30 p.m. to find William and Evie snuggled together in her crib. It was so cute -- absolutely adorable to see them together, gently breathing in and out, dreaming about Valentine's candies and Star Wars Legos. They love playing together so much during the day, and especially so when they have to go to bed.

We usually leave the crib's retractable fourth side down so Evie can climb in and out more easily, but it had been pulled up all the way. Williams hand hung between the slats, Evie was facing the other way, two or three stuffed animals had joined them, blankets of many shapes and sizes and colors were drawn across them, or sometimes not, and they had nabbed my big pillow from off my bed for the two of them to share.

While they slept I lowered the side of the crib down again, gently nudging William and jiggering the far corner so it would move. I sorted the blankets out, laid William in his own little bed, on his own red square pillow, and covered him with three or four of the blankets. I set the stuffed animals back in their blue box, retrieved my pillow for myself again (noticing some drool on one spot), and wrapped Evie up in another three or four blankets.

I stroked their hair, kissed them good-night again, and gently closed the door.

Jon

Pullern!

2009-01-05T14:46:00.002-06:00

Evie is now completely half-way potty trained. Any time she needs to go Number 1 she suddenly and quickly exclaims "Avoll pullen!" which translated is "Ich will pullern" which loosely translated means "I need to pee."

Whoever is nearest then flies her to the bathroom (or sometimes she just hops or gallops) sets her upon her kiddie-seat throne and she puts her hand to her ear to make sure you're listening, and then lets it go.

When she's done, she hops down the little step we set in front of the toilet, and insists "I do myself!" She pulls up her pants, flushes the toilet, washes her hands, and returns to receive her daily dose of adulation for her great accomplishment. (William on the other hand makes a game of forgetting each step, so I have to remind him -- every time -- to flush and wash when he's done.)

Evie has even made it through naps staying dry. Not long after she wakes, sure enough, she exclaims, "Avoll pullen!" and bounces off again to the bathroom.

Philips

2009-01-05T14:38:00.003-06:00

William can write his own name now, in all caps: WILLIAM. He can also write STOP and MAMA and PAPA (which once came out as MPMP) and EVIE (or sometimes EVEI).

A couple days ago he showed me a piece of paper where he had written HARRY POTTER -- no joke -- in all caps, complete with the jagged letters that he copied from the front of the DVD case. It was quite impressive.

Then a day later, he showed me that same paper with the jagged HARRY POTTER, but he had added PHILIPS. It took me a second, then I realized he had copied it off the front of the TV. I started laughing and congratulated him again on his achievement.

Evie

2009-01-02T14:15:00.001-06:00

A while ago as I was writing the Milk Teeth post, a favorite bedtime scene played in my mind. I saved it as a draft but never returned to it. I think it might have started out of my realization that I needed to write more about Evie, that I've spent too much time writing just about William. I've forgotten where it was going, but I still like the image it creates. Here are those two lines I saved:

"I covered her with her blankets, plugged in her pacifier ("ga-ga" in her terms), and gently told her to roll over and close her eyes. She did, I caressed her back and hair a couple times, and turned to check back on William."

William's First Talk

2008-12-28T14:25:00.001-06:00

William gave his first talk in Primary at church today. I wrote it for him on the side of a program while I was sitting in Sunday school. He actually wrote his own talk the night before ("I do it myself!") but I thought it might need a little tightening up.

He was very excited all morning about his big day. When it was his turn, he turned around from his small chair in the front row of the Primary room, with eyes wide and a big smile, nodded his head toward me, and quickly marched up to the little podium with the microphone on it. I followed him up and whispered in his ear the words I had written, pausing after every phrase so he could repeat it out loud:

"I love Jesus Christ. I help my mommy, and my daddy, and my sister Evie. I share with my friends, and I love my family. I sing Primary songs, and Christmas songs. I read good stories, and watch scripture movies. I am learning to read, and learning to write. Soon I will read the Bible, and the Book of Mormon, and write my own talks. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen."

(Once or twice he whispered back at me "what you say?", and he muffled a word or two here and there, but overall it was a home-run first talk.) He jumped down and bounded back to his seat with a big, excited grin on his face. He was beaming with "I did it!" enthusiasm.

Carol of the Bells

2008-12-22T10:21:00.002-06:00

William has learned how to play the popular Christmas song, "Carol of the Bells," on the piano. Not the whole thing, of course, just the first four notes:

Dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum, dum da-da dum.

It's a wonderful sound. Merry Christmas.

Milk teeth

2008-11-11T13:25:00.006-06:00

Last night after William and Evie were both in bed, they called out an order for warm milk. I roller-skated into their bedroom (not really, but I felt like a waiter on wheels), took their order, and reminded them that they would have to both brush their teeth again.

"Okay," they answered.

I skated back to the kitchen, poured some whole milk into a ceramic mug and nuked it for a minute to warm it up. I emptied the mug into a blue-and-green plastic sippy-cup for William, and repeated the process for Evie.

I skated back to the darkened bedroom, handed them their beverages and reminded them about brushing their teeth when they're done. They again agreed, so I stepped out. Two minutes later I returned to their table, I mean, bedsides and asked if they were finished.

William had gulped down the warm milk and handed his bottle to me as he disappeared out the door. Evie hadn't sipped much of hers, so I asked if she wanted more. "No," she said, and handed it off to me. I leaned down and gathered her up in my arms, removing her blankets and baby doll, to go brush her teeth again.

As I left the room with Evie, William cruised past me to hop back into bed. I asked him if he already brushed his teeth again. "Yep," he answered without breaking stride and plopped into bed.

"Really?" I asked. He nodded excitedly, but I still wasn't sure, so I gave him the breathalizer test. He breathed onto my face, and indeed it did smell minty fresh. "Okay," I acknowledged, followed up with an enthusiastic, "good job!"

I scrubbed Evie's mouth and returned her to her crib, and the two drifted off into a plaque-free slumber.

It's pretty cool that they're both able (and willing!) to brush their teeth now, usually by themselves. In fact, most of the time they don't even want to let us help. I'll chalk that up as a victory for good parenting. :)

Tot

2008-06-03T12:30:00.004-05:00

Pronounced "toat" or "tote" depending on who's spelling -- it's German for "dead."

The other day William was squatting on the kitchen floor, and he noticed a few tiny ants crawling on the tile. With his little pointer finger, he squished them gently but firmly, and proclaimed each one "tot" as he did so.

Clock

2008-04-12T10:44:00.003-05:00

William is excited about his friend's birthday today. I explained to him that it's not until later this afternoon, but since he's a toddler, that didn't make any sense at all.

I showed him the clock and explained slowly and carefully that the small hand has to go all the way to the 3, and then it's time for the party. I pointed at the numbers and counted with him, "1...2..." and let him answer "3!"

Since then (about an hour ago) he has hastily and excitedly summoned me into the living room to show me that the little hand had moved a little bit. We're now sitting in the basement, and he and Evie are watching a German cartoon on DVD.

All of a sudden, he jumped up from the couch and started running toward the stairs. This is usually the sign that he has to go to the bathroom, so I asked him where he's going.

As he bounded up the stairs, one by one, he quickly babbled something indistinct, but I caught the word "clock." He was checking to see how far it had moved again. Incredible. Adorable.

When he came back downstairs, he reported back to me that it had indeed gotten a little closer to the birthday party.

Computer skillz

2007-11-17T10:26:00.000-06:00

Last night William was playing Moorhuhn, a silly flying-chicken shooter game. If you get enough points, you get to type in your name. After he had yet another successful match, I pointed out each letter of his name on the keyboard, and let him punch the keys a couple times in a row for practice.

He typed his own name in, then hit "Enter," and I pointed to the syllables on the screen while slowly repeating his name. As he sounded it out with me ("will-ee-yum"), I praised him ("good job!"), and then sat back down on the couch as he again fired off round after round of his virtual shotgun.

After a couple minutes, I heard him calling repeatedly, "Papa! Wookit! I did it! Yah!!"

I realized he wasn't just touting another high score, so I got up off the couch to see what he had accomplished, and I was amazed. There it was on the screen: "wiljma."

Good job, Papa!

2007-09-14T13:55:00.000-05:00

William is quickly becoming independently potty-trained. Mirjam has had him diaperless most of the day for a couple weeks, and any time we see him start to dance around, we send him to the toilet.

He pulls down his pants and his big-boy underwear, stands in front of the pot, squirts out a pale stream, closes the lid, flushes, and washes his hands. Sometimes we have to remind him to pull up his pants and undies again. Of course we reward him with oodles of praises and adulation, so that he understands this is a good thing. "Good job, William! Wow!"

We're still working on getting him to sit on the throne to go number two, but he insists on pooping in his diaper soon after we put it on for the long overnight sleeping time. He also seems to enjoy peeing on the grass or near the tree outside. It's amusing, but we still try to make him go inside whenever we can catch him before he's already dropped his pants.

Anyway, a couple days ago, I forgot to lock the bathroom door, and as soon as I started peeing, the door bursts open, and William was standing there, lit up with an encouraging smile, eyebrows raised, and voice high-pitched, proclaiming, "Good job, Papa! You did it!"

I couldn't help smiling a bit, and I told him thank you and to close the door on his way out.

Mampa

2007-07-12T10:51:00.001-05:00

William says more and more each week, but one of my favorite things is that he still says is "Mampa" (or "Mapa"). He's not quite sure who's name he wants to call, and he might be looking at me but thinking of Mama when he starts calling one of us, so it comes out a little mixed.

Of course, it's usually "Mapa" because Mama is the one he wants to call first. Occasionally it's "Pama" -- once in a while I'll still get first billing -- but it doesn't bother me at all. I'm perfectly okay being one part of the bi-parental unit, as long as I get at least one syllable every once in a while.

Playing Papa

2007-07-12T10:43:00.000-05:00

One of my favorite memories of William, from about a year or so ago, when he was not quite two years old, I think.

I was working at Target, and every morning I would get up, get dressed, and put on my glasses, watch, ring, and Target badge. When I came home from work, I had the same things on. I kept them in the little cubby hole next to my side of the bed.

One day, William walks up to me with my over-sized glasses slipping down his nose, my big ring on one of his fingers, or maybe his thumb, my watch dangling off his wrist, and my Target badge in one hand. "Papa!"

Indeed he was the classic example of what Papa looks like every day.

Lawn mower, leaf blower

2007-06-13T09:18:00.000-05:00

For a couple months, William has been wandering around the house pretending to do yard work.

He used to use the black plastic vacuum cleaner extension tubes to vacuum up everything in the house (if only it really cleaned!), while making a "zzzhhhrrr" sort of whirring noise to simulate the vacuum cleaner. He would even grab the attachments and put them on the ends of the tubes as he wandered around. He's always loved the vacuum cleaner. Even when he was a baby, he crawled into the next room if he heard it turn on and chased after it. He was never afraid of the noise. He was always fascinated with it.

This spring, the lawn service started waking him up in the middle of his much-needed nap every week, so recently he's been using Evie's plastic multi-colored walker to mow the carpet all around the house. But the best thing he does is when he's blowing leaves. He started out by strapping on Mirjam's black, one-shouldered backpack. He stuck his hand in the clear plastic pocket on the end of the strap and started walking around, doing the "zzhr" noise, pretending to be a leaf blower. He looked a little bit like a Ghostbuster with that black backpack strapped to him.

But he uses more than just that now. I've seen him use his t-ball stand before, and some other toys that just aren't used for their good established purpose anymore. He recently got two pieces of stick and some tape and asked Mirjam to help him stick them together. He used that self-made contraption for a few days, too. After the wind storm last week, he found a decent-sized three-pronged branch and brought that inside to use as his new leaf blower.

Yesterday I saw him pick up one of his favorite sticks (the big branch), and pretend to flip a switch halfway down one end. He started up his leaf blower by doing the "zzhr" noise sliding from a lower pitch up to the regular sustained pitch. Amazing. Totally incredible and fascinating to watch him.

A couple weeks ago, he threw a tantrum at Kids R Us, and he almost convinced Mirjam to buy him a super cool plastic lawn mower. After watching him blow some leaves around inside our house, I told her that if he had gotten the mower, he never would have constructed his own. He doesn't need any toys, just some sticks and a good imagination.

Beyond

2007-06-08T10:00:00.000-05:00

Last week I took William with me to go shopping at Bed Bath & Beyond. He's been there many times, since we've used our monthly 20-percent-off coupons to buy our entire dinnerware set, piece by piece.

I've tried more recently to prepare him for whatever we're doing, so he feels comfortable and safe and not surprised, so as we were approaching the store, I told him in a calm and pleasant voice, as he sat in his car seat in the back, "We're driving to Bed Bath & Beyond." I slowly repeated myself, to make sure he understood what I said: "Bed Bath & Beyond."

He then asked me a question: "Buzaityer?"

It wasn't very clear and I wasn't sure what he said, so I asked him "What did you say?"

"Buzzaityeer?" he repeated.

I slowly repeated it to myself, trying to decipher what he was trying to communicate to me: "buz-zite-yeer..."

Then it hit me: "To infinity...and beyond!"

He was saying "Buzz Lightyear!" He recognized the "beyond" part of what I said, and immediately associated it with his favorite flying space ranger. I couldn't believe it. I laughed out loud and told him he was exactly right. "That's right! To infinity and beyond!" He giggled, too, with delight. "Buzzaityeer!"

One, six, seven, go!

2007-05-14T20:51:00.000-05:00

Today at William's pre-school, all the kids built kites by cutting a big circle out of a paper grocery bag and attaching streamers to one side, for a tail. William has been running back and forth for a couple minutes from our bedroom into the living room and back, trying to get some air out of this thing. Every time he gets to one end, he pauses and says "One, six, seven, go!" and takes off running again.

The Maestro

2007-05-04T23:58:00.000-05:00

Last week on some night, William was lying in our big queen bed, because he didn't want to sleep in his bed. I was about to drag him (kicking and screaming, of course) into his room, but he ran over and hit the Sleep button on my little clock radio and begged "mu-sik?" I thought I'd let him indulge in one song, since it's always tuned to the classical station anyway. I was hoping it would be something mellow.

He climbed up onto the bed, flopped down, and tucked his legs under the covers. After he had settled, I realized exactly what was playing on the radio -- it was my favorite piece of music in all of classical music: Mahler's 2nd Symphony, "Resurrection," the fifth movement. It is a masterful piece of music, and William apparently liked it, too.

I watched him in silence, in the mostly darkness of our room as he lay on his back and shot his arms up into the air triumphantly at the climax of the symphony -- which is incredible -- then waved them majestically as the music descended back into a decrescendo. We both listened quietly as the music soared one last time, all the while, his arms conducting the music as it swept upward. He then struck his fingers into the air again at the final crashing crescendo, and the applause thundered. William yelled "Yeah!" and joined in the clapping himself. I hugged him and cheered and clapped along with him.

I hit the Snooze button to turn off the radio, and carried him into his bedroom. It was a nice five minutes at the symphony with my little boy conducting the massive orchestra and choir.

Happy Evie

2007-03-27T10:27:00.000-05:00

Evie has a new favorite head movement and sound. She raises her eyebrows and forehead while inhaling through her nose, and then exhales while dropping her eyebrows and head back down. This is all coupled with a slight sing-song vocal breathing to accompany her nodding.

So now, instead of the quick in-out-in-out breathing while crinkling her nose and pursing her lips, it's a gentle up, down, up, down with a gentle in and out breathy song.

Of course, she's smiling, or at least smirking and beaming with full self-satisfaction, the entire time.

William's words

2007-03-24T10:44:00.000-05:00

William likes to play with Mirjam's digital camera, and often he will request a "puhk-chur." Unfortunately, his cute mispronunciation is now all but gone, and he can almost always say "picture" as clear as a bell. Oh, well.

He also enjoys a "peeter butter" sandwich, much to Mirjam's dismay. (She can't stand the stuff!) I, of course, encourage the habit whole-heartedly and ask him often if he'd like to have some "peeter butter."

Because he's learning two languages, sometimes what comes out is a mix of both. He used to say "dee-too" any time we told him to say "danke," but now we hear either a clear "danke," full of all the correct consonants, or a quick "tanks," sometimes followed up by a tremendously heartfelt "merr much."

It's exciting to hear him talking more and more every day, and it's great to finally understand what he's been babbling about all this time (well, some of it anyway), but it's sad to hear him growing up so fast. Sometimes when I hear Mirjam coaching his pronunciation, I'll ask her to let him say it wrong for a while yet.

Dinner prayer

2007-03-22T10:50:00.000-05:00

William no longer wants to have help when saying a prayer. I used to tell him, line by line (sometimes word by word), what to say.

"Vater im Himmel"
"Ftrrhmml"

"Danke"
"Dee-too"

"Fuer Mama"
"A-mama"

And so on. The other day at the dinner table I asked him if he wanted to pray, and he said "yep." I asked him if I should help him, and he said "no." So I let him go.

"Ftrrhmml...(unidentifiable babbling)...Mamas Brot, ah-Papas Brot, ah-Evies Brot, Iiyams Brot, Amen."

We were completely stunned. Mirjam and I looked at each other. William had said his first situationally appropriate prayer. Of course we weren't sure what he had said in the middle, but most of it sounded pretty good, so we resoundingly praised his success and ate our William-blessed Brot.

Cackling Evie

2007-03-20T10:34:00.000-05:00

When Evie laughs, some other concerned parents thinks she's coughing or choking, and some will even ask Mirjam if her baby is okay.

Her laugh is a sort of forced-air, Tommy Gun-like cackling, and now William, who used to do something similar when he was a baby, has caught on again and occasionally laughs the same way.

It's hilarious to hear that coming from such a small baby, and it is contagious. Sometimes Mirjam and I catch ourselves doing it, too.

Angry Evie

2007-02-26T11:50:00.000-06:00

A week or so ago, Evie started making a new face. She pursed her lips slightly outward, wrinkled her nose, and glared just a bit while quickly breathing in and out through her nose--all with a little smirk on her face, as if she knew that her mock anger was so darn cute.

She got the attention she was looking for, so now she does her pursed-lips, wrinkled-nose huffing and puffing whenever someone is close enough to laugh at her. And of course any time she does it, we encourage her by mirroring what she's doing right back at her.

Lately the breathing through her nose is slower and is sometimes accompanied by a low growl, as if she is even more infuriated. And yes, we do the same right back to her, too.

Aflac!

2006-10-06T14:46:00.000-05:00

William is saying a lot more words, and pronouncing them quite clearly, too. His latest additions are "gabuud" with an adorably cute, slightly upward inflection at the end (for "kaputt") and "rrah-ra!" with an upward-downward inflection, which is his version of the Aflac duck's tagline.

The commercial with Yogi Berra in the barbershop comes on quite a bit during baseball games, and I tend to see a few of those in the summer. William ocassionally sits still enough for an inning or two before he's off again to inflict more destruction, so he inevitably has seen a few of the spots with the duck.

Yesterday, he saw my Scout bag with an embroidered head of a Common Loon on it, and without even looking up at me, he instinctively squawked, "rrah-ra!" and went along his business.

Aahhhuurrr

2006-10-06T11:55:00.000-05:00

Evie started growling a few days ago. It's a sort of long, low, sustained grunt. She mostly does it when she's either sitting up or lying stomach-down, propped up on a pillow.

Last night she was leaning up against my chest as I lounged back on the couch, her face a mere inches from my nose. For a couple of minutes, she made the same growly, grunty noise. I laughed at her and sat her up straight, but she stopped, so I set her back on my stomach, trying to avoid her slobbermouth, and she started growling at me again.

Smiles

2006-10-05T16:34:00.000-05:00

Evie is a very smiley baby. Every time I walk by her, she follows me around the room, and if I even look at her, her face lights up. Of course she can wail with the best of them when she's tired, but it never fails that when she wakes up from a nap, if she sees you, she'll be smiling.

She loves to be around people, and she's now old enough to know when she is not being admired. If I set her down for too long, she'll start complaining. I can return and look at her and she'll smile again, but if I walk away, it's not long before she's fussing again. I can pick her up and she quiets right down, gazing up with her blue eyes. Even if she's gnawing on a pacifier, I can see her cheeks twitch as she starts to grin at me again.

Ebbie

2006-08-03T16:27:00.000-05:00

William absolutely loves his new little sister. He smothers her. Sometimes literally.

He steals her pink pacifer right out of her mouth *pop!* and starts sucking on it himself. Then a few seconds later, after walking around (tipping his head back and forth while rocking from one foot to the next) he shoves it back in her mouth.

If she's lying in her blue bouncer on the floor, he bounces her more. If she's in the swing, he swings her higher. If she's being bathed, he splashes around to make sure she's wet. If she's sleeping in her basinette, he peeks inside and says, "Hi, Ebbie!" I think he's just making sure she gets the most out of life.

William always helps change Evie's diapers. If she needs a blanket, William runs and gets it for her. If she's crying in the car, William will help sing to her. When she was born, he instinctively asked to hold her in his arms, on his lap, as he sat in the hospital's rocking chair.

He kisses her on the forehead and rubs his nose on hers. He is a good big brother, and he loves his little sister.

These aren't the locks you are looking for

2006-08-03T15:34:00.000-05:00

You know those white, plastic, child-safety doorknob covers that you have to squeeze in on the sides to turn? William found a workaround.

It turns out, he walks right up to one of these pseudo-impediments, sticks his index finger into the big hole in the middle, grips the metal knob between his finger (on the inside of the contraption) and thumb (on the outside of the knob cover formerly known as functional), and turns. Voila!, he's in.

About a week ago on a Saturday morning, Mirjam and I were just waking up when we noticed that William was standing in our room. "Did you let him in?" "No, did you let him?" "William, how did you get in here?"

The darn things hardly even slow him down any more. We keep them on to try to distract him from trying to open the doors, but it's mostly to prove that we tried.

Who needs diapers?

2006-04-08T20:21:00.000-05:00

Mirjam's working tonight, so I'm on William duty. We raked the yard and went on a walk. I fed him whatever I could find in the fridge and the cupboard. Then he plugged his nose, which is the sign we're trying to re-teach him when he needs to go to the bathroom.

I pulled off his sweatshirt, t-shirt, and pants, undid his onsie and diaper, and set him on the trainer seat. He hung out there for a while, flushed the toilet with nothing in it, said "bah bah" and grunted for me to help him down off the seat. Since he was already naked, I filled the bathtub with water and set him in it.

As I was eating a bowl of frosted mini wheats, he looked up from the tub and plugged his nose again. I ran in the bathroom, plucked him right out of the water, and set him back on his throne. Nothing. I thought he was just toying with me, as he does occasionally (little stinker), so I put him back in the tub and started to wipe down the kitchen counter.

When I looked back in, I saw William making the subtle strained pushing face that we noticed he does when he's filling his diaper. But he wasn't wearing a diaper. I leapt toward the tub desperately pleading "wait, wait!" but it was too late.

As I grabbed him up out of the tub, I saw the little William poop floating there on the side. Crap. I missed it. Just barely. At least it was still in one piece. We've dealt with much worse tub-poop-hand situations, so this was actually a relief.

I put him back on the kiddie seat, guessing that there might be a little more on the way, grabbed a big wad of toilet paper off the roll and recovered the evidence from the scene. I flushed the toilet, set William standing up on the dark green towel next to the tub, and started draining the tub while confiscating the blue rubby ducky and bottle that were also floating in the water.

When I returned from putting the items on the dishwasher--no joke, two seconds later; ten feet away--I moved William off the green towel to find one last tiny little piece of brown poop-ball where he had been standing. I can't win.

He looked a little cold, so I quickly cleaned his bum with baby wipes, wrapped him in a big dark red towel, and set him on the couch. I went to find a diaper and his white "vroom" pajamas, and met him back at the couch. I unwrapped the towel and noticed a large dark spot on the towel between his legs. He peed on my couch!

I couldn't believe it. I wrapped up the freshly cleaned and newly soiled red towel, laid him on the altar, uh, I mean ottoman, and slapped the diaper on--as if it would have made a difference at that point. There is a minor consolation in that William's pee is usually quite clear and watered down. Still, I thoroughly wiped the couch with a wet towel as I recapped in my mind what had just happened:

1. Ignored warning signs--poop in tub
2. Turned away for two seconds--poop ball on green towel
3. No immediate diaper--pee on red towel and couch

I hugged him and kissed him and read him a book and put him to bed.

Duck!

2006-03-30T20:10:00.000-06:00

William learned a new word today: "truck." Sometimes it's "duck" and sometimes it's "guck" but it's always exciting when he sees one rumbling alongside the car. "Guck!" he exclaims, pointing out the window behind him.

A while ago he started trying to say "bus," but it usually ended up "bui." Nowadays he lets out a really excited "biss!" every time he and Mirjam pick me up from the bus stop after work. As we drive off, he waves and yells "bah bah, biss!"

Zoo and soup

2006-03-18T15:22:00.000-06:00

Yesterday we went to the zoo and we saw the polar bear jumping into his swimming tank over and over again, and the seals and penguins swimming laps in their tanks. (One of William's favorite things to say now is "Oh, wow!") We also saw the timberwolf trotting in the woods, the monkeys jumping around in the treetops, and the lions and tigers lounging around on their rocks.

The gorilla was fed right as we were walking toward its cage. The keeper dumped a bucket of veggies right next to the thick glass window, and when the huge black gorilla entered the area again, it lumbered on over to where the veggies were and plopped right down next to the glass. It was really cool to be that close to a live gorilla. As it approached, though, William took a couple steps back and grabbed onto me. It was cute. "Oh wow!" said William hesitantly, as the gorilla ate it's corn on the cob, oranges, carrots, lettuce head, etc.

When we went to see the big cats, the he-lion jumped on the she-lion and tried to do what lions do in the springtime. She didn't want much of that, but it was long enough to cause a few smirks and chuckles. William didn't get much of a look as the crowd (with cameras! hello?) was quite big around the lions' cage.

Afterward, we went to one of our favorite eateries and had two free bowls of soup, pop, and breadsticks, thanks to Mom's collection of frequent diner cards. Mirjam had the wild rice and I had the beef garden vegetable. Of course, we had lots of breadsticks, and smuggled out a few as we left. Yum.

A few more noises

2006-01-19T12:23:00.000-06:00

I still get "Dahn" instead of "Baba" every once in a while. "Mama" is now an extremely regular utterance, whether he actually needs Mirjam or wants something in general or is just running from one room to the next: "Mah-mah-mah-mah-mah-mah-mah-mah!"

I now practice going through everyone's names, in German, of course:
Jon: "Sag 'Papa!'"
William: "Baba!"
Jon: "Das bin ich! Sag 'Mama!'"
William: "Mama!"
Mirjam: "Das bin ich"
Jon: "Sag 'William!'"
William: "Ah-amm" (with just a hint of "y" and "l")
Jon: "Das bist du! Sag 'Baby'"
William: "Dee-dee!"

And just the other day, I tried asking him a couple of new names:
Jon: "Sag 'Oma!'"
William: "Ah-om"
Jon: "Sag 'Opa!'"
William: "Ah-omb"

Lobster hands

2006-01-19T11:49:00.000-06:00

A few months ago, William found the green oven mitts lying around in the kitchen and put them onto his small hands and started walking around the condo--tottering slightly from one leg to the other--while opening and closing his little hands so that it looked like he had giant, insulated, fuzzy lobster claws attached to his little boy arms. As he strolled around from the kitchen to the living room, staring at his new monster pincers, he made the appropriate short grunts of lobster-claw hand-moving sounds: "Meh, meh, meh, meh."

I don't know where he got it from, because it's nothing we taught him to do, but he must have observed me making the lobster-hands grunting noise at some time while wearing the green oven mitts--which is not a far stretch of the imagination--because he's done it ever since he first stuck his hands in them.

He still does it, any time he gets hold of the oven mitts. Even if he's wearing his little black winter mittens, or Mirjam's big brown knit gloves, he's learned to make the same noises while pinching his little hands open and close. "Meh, meh, meh, meh."

What's in a name?

2005-12-19T19:09:00.000-06:00

After all my efforts to get William to call me "Papa," he has recently taken to calling out "Dahn" from the other room, occasionally running up to the double French doors, slobbering all over the windows while he presses his face against the glass panels, and yelling out again, "Dahn," as if mocking me openly.

How did this happen, you ask? I'll be sitting here in front of the computer, minding my own business, and every now and then, Mirjam will call out my name from the kitchen. After having heard her call for me from across the house so many times, and having seen me appear from behind the doors on occasion, William caught on that I not only respond to "Baba," but also "Dahn."

I told Mirjam it's her fault he doesn't call me "Baba" anymore, and it's her responsibility to fix it.

Raisins for you

2005-11-16T10:04:00.000-06:00

This morning as I was eating breakfast at the table, William pulled himself up onto the old, beige WILL-TV director's chair, and started picking up the little raisins that Mirjam gave him with his small, pincer-like fingers and plopped them in quick succession into his mouth. I gave him a couple of milked-down bites of the bran portion of my Raisin Bran, which he gladly accepted. Then he started to climb onto the table.

I thought he was going to come after my bowl of cereal with both fists, as he has done before. Instead, once he was perched just inches from me and my bowl, he stretched out his hand toward my mouth, and then I noticed something small and almost-black between his fingers. He gently pushed the raisin between my lips, and after I said "thank you" he picked up the last one from the table and pushed that into my mouth, too.

He carefully pushed his way backward off the table and back onto the canvas director's chair, and I gave him another bite of the bran. He is such a great little boy.

"You must unlearn what you have learned"

2005-11-02T21:26:00.000-06:00

Mirjam noticed this week, that William has stopped saying "Mama" altogether, and is now exclusively proclaiming "Ba-ba" when he needs something. Triumph! Uh, I mean, I'm trying to get him to say "Mama" again. Ahem.

The Force is strong with this one

2005-10-31T21:30:00.000-06:00

Tonight we had a big Halloween party at our house, with lots of friends and lots of food. Costumes were encouraged, and, of course, we had a family costume theme.

I was Obi-Wan Kenobi (yes, I grew a beard just for the costume) Mirjam was Padme Amidala, and William was Yoda. Mirjam made a light brown robe, and a green hat with Yoda ears for William to wear (he was incredibly adorable, of course). She also made a light cape to go with her white outfit for herself. I sewed my own dark brown Jedi robe, and Mirjam helped with the hood and a couple of strips of fabric that ended up looking like a tunic under my robe.

Next year we'll have to construct a blaster for Mirjam and a light saber for me. We got a couple pictures tonight, but I want to get a some more good ones during the day with more light--maybe this Saturday.

Sharing with Papa

2005-10-26T22:50:00.000-05:00

Last week I fell asleep on the couch, and in the morning, after William woke up, he came over to the couch, greeted me excitedly ("Baba!"), and saw that I had left a cup on the table from the night before. He carefully picked up the big blue plastic tumbler, still half full, with both hands, lifted it to his mouth, and either tried to drink something or pretended to take a sip of whatever was inside, not sure if he wanted to tip it all the way back.

Then, because he's such a nice person and he likes to share, he gently put the edge of the cup to my mouth--I was still lying on the couch, half asleep--and lifted it to make sure I got some water. Splash! The cup emptied onto my face and dripped down my cheek onto the cushion, then onto the floor.

I just lay there, my face dripping with last night's water, for a couple minutes. William didn't laugh (he didn't think he'd done anything funny) and he didn't run away (he didn't think he'd done anything wrong) he just went along his business and kept playing with other things in the living room as I lay there, still stunned by the face full of water.

Mmm-hmm?

2005-10-24T23:10:00.000-05:00

William has gotten the hang of saying "Mama" (or sometimes "Baba," when I remind him) when he needs help, and now he's starting to grasp the association a little better.

Mirjam told me that when she drives by the Park and Ride lot, William will look out the window and say "Baba!" He also squeaks and says "Baba" when he sees me step off the bus. I could eat him up, and as you know, I sometimes take a little nibble here or there out of his neck or ear if he gets to close.

Well, last week, he started doing something a little different. When Mirjam asks him a question, any question, he answers with a simple, upward-inflected, "Mmm-hmm." For example:

Mirjam: William, do you like to eat your apple?

William: Mmm-hmm. (Not bothering to look up, as if this is all quite normal, and nothing new.)

Mirjam: Do you also like applesauce?

William: Mmm-hmm. (Slightly glancing up.)

Mirjam: Do you want to go to bed?

William: Mmm-hmm. (Smirking now, as if he understands the question.)

Mirjam: Do you know how to drive the car?

William: Nnn-hnn. (Smiling more, with each successive question.)

Jon: William, are you ten feet tall?

William: *blank stare*

Mirjam: William, do you like to read your Corduroy book?

William: Uhh-huh. (Now almost laughing at this silly game.)

Mirjam: Are you ready for bath time, William?

William: Aah-haa! (Now laughing with each answer.)

He doesn't understand the questions yet, but it's too much fun to play with him to care about little details like that. He must have picked up the habit listening to us answering each other, or him when he babbles to us:

William: Glaldegledabelgdiggledigel. (Sometimes nodding, always very certain of his important statement.)

Jon and Mirjam: Mmm-hmm! (In the same encouraging, upward-inflected tone he has now adopted.)

I tried to get some of this on video, because it's just so hilarious that he answers questions like this now. Of course, the moment I turn the video camera on, he becomes fascinated with it and stops answering questions. I'll have to keep trying some hidden camera moments.

Mba-ba

2005-09-23T22:56:00.000-05:00

Earlier this week, William started saying "Mama" for the first time. He babbles a *lot* all day long, but doesn't have any complete words yet. He whines and grunts when he needs something, which isn't as adorable as he usually is, so Mirjam taught him to say "Mama" instead. It goes something like this:

William: Nnnh...nnnh...aaaaahhh!

Mirjam: Say "Mama!"

William: Mma-ma.

Mirjam: Good!

He picked up on it quickly. Of course, after a few days of him saying "Mama" I started to get a little jealous, especially since he said "Mama" to me, too, when he wanted something. So I taught him to say "Papa." The first time, it went something like this:

William: Nnnh...nnnh...aaahhh!

Jon: Say "Papa"

William: *blank stare*

Jon: Pah-pah.

William: *kind of put his lips together*

Jon: Pah-pah... Pah-pah...

William, concentrating hard: Mba-ba.

Jon: Good! Mirjam, he said "Papa!"

William: Mama!

It's a start.

Edit: I forgot to mention that when he first started saying "Mba-ba" he had to concentrate so hard to make his mouth move the way he needed it to, that he blinked every time he did it. It was so adorable, of course, that we laughed at him/with him every time he said it.

William's first words...kind of

2005-07-19T10:51:00.000-05:00

We've been teaching William a few basic signs so he can communicate with us more easily, since he won't be able to say words for at least a few months, and sentences a few months after that.

He's been able to clap for a while now, and he can stretch out his arms above his head for "yeah!" He can also wave goodbye and sometimes he'll blow kisses. But now, he puts his fingertips to his mouth for "hungry," he interlocks his fingers for prayer, he puts his fists together for "shoes," and he puts his hand on the side of his face for "bedtime."

A couple of days ago he had a major breakthrough. Without gesturing at all with my hands, I simply asked him if he was hungry. He responded by putting his fingertips to his mouth. It was incredible! He had recognized what I said and was able to answer the question with the appropriate sign! Then today, Mirjam wanted to take him outside before it got too hot, and we were looking for his blue leather giraffe shoes. I asked William if he knew where his shoes were, and he made the sign for shoes! Incredible.

He's learning so many things every day, it's hard to keep up with them all.

Feeding frenzy

2005-04-05T23:29:00.000-05:00

I just got done feeding William. I need to shower again.

Since when do children believe their feeding technique is more efficient than mine? I insert the little spoon into the mush, scoop some mush, scrape the spoon on the side of the mush container, insert the spoon with mush into a gaping wide baby mouth, and scoop upwards as I pull the spoon out. Repeat until mush is gone.

William seems to think that his motor skills are better than mine. Once the spoon is in his mouth, he clamps down with his terrible teeth of terror, and he won't let go unless the spoon is in his own hands. He inspects the spoon with his eyes and fingers, taps on his plastic high-chair table like a drum, and points and grunts to the mush container as if to say, "Come on, let me try." "Sure, why not?" I think, not remembering that he tricked me like this the last time I tried to feed him.

So I helped William guide the spoon into the mush, scooped out a small amount, and helped him guide the spoon back towards his mouth. Again he wanted to inspect the spoon, this time with mush on it. Of course if he's not happy with my assistance, he flaps his arms, grabs my shirt, and wails for a second or two. Mush everywhere.

I quickly finished off the last of the mush and gave him some Cheerios, a piece of toast, and a bottle with diluted apple juice. Amazingly, in the process of snarfing down the Cheerios like there's a war on, and sloshing the juice around like a bum, his face and fingers ended up relatively clean. I don't know how he does it. Maybe his method is better.

What's that noise?

2005-03-31T13:49:00.000-06:00

A few ways we manage to communicate with William:

He started when he was very young with a simple "nnn-G" or "mmm-MA!" He gradually added the traditional "da-da-da-da" and "ma-ma-ma-ma" to his repertoire, and occasionally the "ba-ba-ba-ba." But he's added a little complexity in the last few months.

One day I noticed William copy me as I inhaled quickly through my nose. So I started rapidly sniffing in and out like a dog panting through his nose. William looked up at me, squinted his nose, and did the same quick in-out "sniffsniffsniffsniff." I showed Mirjam when she got home. She loved it.

William can also click his tongue now, and if you start, he'll smile at you and join right in with his slow "click...click...click." He used to make a "brrrbrrr" noise with his lips. Now he stick his tongue out slightly between his teeth and blows a sort of slobbery, smiley "thhhbthhh."

Of course we encourage all of this. We're terrible.

Our favorite is in church when he sings along during the hymns. I set him on my lap, open the book and let him hold the sides, making sure he doesn't rip the pages out while he watches Mirjam conducting the music. I doesn't do words yet, just a simple "aaaah-ahhh." It seems as if he's unaware that he's even singing. He just does it to join in with everyone else.

On Easter Sunday we sang "All Creatures of Our God and King," and after each verse, I could hear William carry over for a second after the organ had stopped playing and everyone had stopped singing. Mirjam has to really control herself, standing in front of the entire congregation. I can't help but laugh, knowing that the rest of the congregation can hear him, too.

Sometimes I sing to him at home, and I catch him quietly moving his lower jaw up and down as if he were mouthing the words without making a sound. He's so adorable I could eat him up.

Big & Tall

2005-02-28T23:26:00.000-06:00

William discovered tonight that he is big enough to reach the horizontal oven door handle. He reached way up with one hand, grabbed on with his fingertips, then pulled slightly while pushing up on his tip-toes and grabbed on with his other hand. Of course once he had a firm grip, he got really excited and started rocking forward and back, taking the oven door along with him. Bang-squeak, bang-squeak, bang!

Carrot stick

2005-02-27T22:30:00.000-06:00

As Mirjam was cleaning the kitchen tonight, she gave William a big round carrot to chew on while he crawled around. So he stuck it in his mouth and started to crawl around, the carrot sticking straight out in front of him, showing him which direction to go in. If he turned and looked to the side, the carrot reeled around with him. Ocassionaly he plopped down on his diaper-padded rump and pulled the carrot out with a hand or two and chewed or nibbled or gnawed on the end of it.

If this were a real emergency...

2005-02-25T22:52:00.000-06:00

William plays with the phone a lot. He crawls over to the side of the bed in our room where the phone used to be on the corner shelf. It's on the floor now, because that's where it inevitably ends up every day. He loves to pull on the cords--oh, how he loves cords, of all kinds. He likes to chew on them and tug at them, and wave his arms frantically while holding onto them and squealing with joy.

He also likes to press the buttons. That was one of his first controlled actions with his hands. He holds onto the side of the phone and presses downward with one of his fingers or thumb. Sometimes he leaves the phone off the hook and crawls away. He hasn't learned to put it back yet, so I have to do it for him. Our cordless phone battery has suffered grieviously since William started excercising his button-pushing fingers. *Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep* I once found it lying on the floor with the readout showing it had been off the hook well over 90 minutes. That little green LCD screen seemed to be crying out, "Put me back on the charging station, please!"

Today, William learned how to dial the telephone. I was lying on the bed watching him play with the phone on the floor, and he seemed to be finished, so I hung up the reciever. A few seconds later, the phone rang again, so I picked it up:

"Hello?"

"This is the Provo Police Department. We just received a 911 call from this phone number, is everything okay?"

"Oh. Yeah, that must have been my son," I said with a smile toward William. He didn't care at all; didn't even look up. He just kept playing. Typical.

The nice woman on the other end then verified our address, thanked me, and hung up.

"Thanks," I said, thinking she probably gets a lot of those calls in our town.

There's no stopping them

2005-02-18T21:20:00.000-06:00

A few nights ago, William was having a hard time sleeping. I was still up, and I didn't want to wake Mirjam. I was wondering why he wasn't sleeping as well as usual, then it hit me. He had been drooling a lot lately, too. It could only mean one thing: another tooth.

I pulled him out of his crib, and between sobs of grief (his, not mine), I pushed his lip out of the way to see a small slit in his lower gum next to the two teeth that were already there. I triumphantly marched with William to the bathroom, proud of my sleuthing abilities, and gave him a dab of Anbesol, which he quickly sucked off my finger. It takes some doing to actually plant the stuff on the proper gum without his tongue moving in to take over.

Sticking out his tongue

2005-02-14T23:31:00.000-06:00

William stuck his tongue out today for the first time. It just happened, out of the blue. I can't tell you how absolutely hilarious it was. He just sat there, sticking his tongue out and pulling it back in. Later he combined his tongue trick with his "dadadada" noises, chewing on the end of it with with his mouth closed while talking to us. Of course we had to mimick him. "Mlamlamlam." We don't mind encouraging potentially bad habits right now. They're just too darn cute.

Just standing around

2005-02-12T21:38:00.000-06:00

Last week William started standing for a few seconds without holding on to anything. It happens sometimes while he's holding a boardbook from the library or his sippy bottle or his little stuffed elephant. He ocassionally leans with his back or stomach gently up against the chair or the couch or my legs to keep his balance. But every now and then he pulls himself up to a standing position and grabs on to something with one hand, leaving the other in place to help him stay up. Then without a second thought, or any concious decision, he just lets go, holding with both hands his treaure for that moment, and simply stands there looking at it, completely unaware of what he's actually doing, and totally oblivious to his parents who are quietly bursting with joy over the simple act of their little boy standing on his own two feet.

Crawling and barking

2004-11-08T21:44:00.000-06:00

Okay, so William can crawl now. This is getting serious. He thinks he's a puppy, though. He loves to chew on things--anything, really. If it's in his hand, it's in his mouth. Sometimes he just bypasses the hand requirement and just opens up his jaws. He's got quite a grip.

Anyway, he sometimes sticks a sock in his mouth with one hand while on all fours, and takes off through the apartment, with the sock still hanging from his mouth. We'll have to teach him to fetch, next. When he's crawling around, with a sock (or stuffed animal, or wood block) hanging out of his mouth, he makes small squeaking noises while lunging gently forward, as if he were barking.

A Halloween trick

2004-10-31T22:06:00.000-06:00

Mirjam mentioned this in her blog, but I wanted to write about it, too.

Last year in October I bought three pumpkins for a part of our Halloween decorations. One large pumpkin for me, one medium-sized for Mirjam, and one tiny pumpkin for the little baby nobody yet knew about. The three pumpkins sat in our living room for months next to the old chair--we never got around to carving them, and the drafty window helped keep them--but nobody ever caught on to the significance. I forgot about that until I read Mirjam's blog.

William the Destroyer

2004-10-28T23:01:00.000-05:00

Today William was on the bed moving around, heading for the small bookshelf where we keep the phone, alarm clock, books, papers, and other things. I stretched my leg out to keep him from advancing forward and eating something. As he tried to climb over my leg, I noticed his back legs were not moving in unison, as they usually do when he's trying to get somewhere. They were kicking one after the other, as if he were trying to crawl! He's almost there. Oh, the humanity. It's time to do a serious child-proofing of the apartment.

Bedtime

2004-10-28T21:26:00.000-05:00

I just put William to bed. I went through his normal routine. We all had dinner together about 6:30; William had some banana puree and avacado puree. Mirjam left for her orchestra class at 6:45, and a few minutes later I put William in his little tub to splash around in. I pulled him out after about ten minutes, and dried him off and dressed him, even though he prefers to be naked. I wrapped him up like a burrito in a couple of blankets, set him in his crib in our room, and read to him "Goodnight Moon."

As usual, he listened quietly all the way through, staring intently at each page. "Goodnight little house. Goodnight little mouse." I turned off the light in the closet, which I was reading by, and left the room, closing the door behind me.

A couple minutes later William started to make some noise, which soon turned into crying. Normally he falls asleep without a peep. I went in, picked him up, consoled him, re-wrapped him, and set him back in the crib after he was calm. A few minutes later he started crying again. I let him cry for a while, but after almost a half-hour he was only getting louder.

I picked him up, patted him on the back, walked around the darkened room, and after he had calmed down, I laid down on the bed, with him on my chest. He kept his head down and sucked on his thumb as he continued to whimper and sigh for a couple minutes. Mirjam called at 8:06 to check up on us. I rolled over to answer the phone, holding William close to me to keep him from looking around and finding something to play with or eat. After hanging up the phone we laid there for about fifteen minutes as he fell asleep with his head on my arm and his hand on my face.

Working up an appetite

2004-10-27T22:52:00.000-05:00

Holy cow. Yesterday I saw William scoot across the room faster than I've ever seen him. He's still not officially crawling, but he got up on all fours and fell forward four times in a row to get to something across the room. Just up and down and reach. Up and down and reach. He especially likes cables and cords of any kind. Whether it's bookbag strings, a USB cable, or the phone cord, if he sees it, he wants to chew on it, and he's going to go after it.

We had to move all of Mirjam's giraffes to the top of the bookshelf because he had launched his assault on them. It's not his fault; they were right next to the bookbag. He also likes to eat anything that makes noise, including paper and krinkly plastic. If it moves or makes noise or is the remote control, he wants to chew on it.

Dinnertime

2004-10-17T22:00:00.000-05:00

Today is William's first real food day. We bought him a high chair attachment so he can sit at the table with us now. Mirjam made him a small bowl of scrumptious rice cereal. Yum!

William was so excited to get his first taste of real food, he could hardly keep his hands away from the little baby spoon. One of us had to hold his arms down and the other had to aim the spoon carefully as William lunged forward with his mouth wide open for each bite. It was a lot of fun for all of us. Soon he'll be graduating to other real foods such as bananas and avacados. How exciting!

Moving day

2004-10-03T22:39:00.000-05:00

William is officially mobile. He's figured out how to move in any direction. The last couple of weeks he's been getting steadily better at pulling his legs up underneath him as he supports himself with his hands. He then slowly rocks forward and back a couple times, and softly lunges forward, pushing off his hands and leaving them back and to his sides. Sometimes he still shifts backwards, but he's really getting the hang of it. He's even picked up on the ability to bring something closer to him this way.

If he's lying on his stomach and reaches for something that's out of reach, he methodically gets up on his hands, gently jerks his legs forward and softly lands on his chest, and he reaches out again to try to grab whatever's in front of him. If he can't reach it yet, he slowly gets back up on his hands and knees again and repeats the process enough times until he can grab onto it with his tiny fingers and quickly bring it to his mouth and chew on it.

Don't feed the animals

2004-09-18T14:50:00.001-05:00

William has gotten very grabby lately. He likes to latch on to whatever is closest and pull it in toward his gaping, eager mouth. He especially likes to grab hair, pillowcases, fingers, cheeks, his stuffed giraffe, and his wooden teething ring from Germany. Of course, two can play at this game--now I'm biting back.

If he reaches toward my face, I start chomping away at his hands and quickly move up his arms to his shoulders, neck, and chest, and he starts squealing and laughing wildly, which of course only encourages me to continue. Sometimes I go for the inner forearm, bypassing the shoulders and neck, and head straight to his stomach. Anything for a laugh.

Ready for takeoff

2004-09-17T22:29:00.000-05:00

After church this afternoon we were sitting on the blue couch outside the bishop's office talking with some other people in the ward. William was on the floor, lying on his stomach. For the past week he has been pushing himself up onto his hands to get a better view of things and occasionally he's pulled his knees up under him as well, so that he's kind of been on all fours.

Well today he got up on his hands and knees, and after pulling his knees forward, he sort of pushed his hands backwards and fell onto his chin. Of course we erupted in cheers and wanted to see him do it again, as he looked up at us and laughed right along with all the excitement.

First signs of a tooth

2004-09-13T14:14:00.000-05:00

Today we discovered William is growing his first tooth. He's probably been working on it for a while, but we just noticed it today. When he was laughing, I saw his lower gum and thought I saw something white on the right side. I thought, "That couldn't be a tooth already, it's too soon." I felt it and it was definitely the start of something harder than a gum. Later in the day, I was going to ask Mirjam what she thought, but before I could ask her about it, she announced to me that "William is getting his first tooth!" Confirmation. We are both excited about all the new things happening with William. I'm sure he's excited too, but he hasn't told us yet.

Driving Master William

2004-09-07T19:45:00.000-05:00

I took William with me to the bank during Mirjam's violin lesson today. His car seat is in the back and faces backwards, so I can't see him when I'm driving. To keep him calm, I made up a song for him about how I like driving with him: "Wenn ich mit dem William fahre, fahr' ich gern, fahr' ich gern...."

On the way back home I noticed that the rustling behind me had diminished as I was singing. I turned around in the middle of the verse to see him staring up at me! He had cocked his head around to the right and tilted it back so that he could look at me from his rear-facing car seat. I felt so proud of him for finding a way to find me in the front seat, I couldn't help laughing, and when I did, so did he. Every time I looked back, he was looking up at me, smiling and listening to me sing to him.

It's fun to travel with a friend.

Sneaky, sneaky

2004-08-28T14:23:00.000-05:00

William rolled from his back to his stomach for the first time today. I wasn't home, but Mirjam told me about it as soon as I walked in. Of course, she didn't see it either, but we know it happened. She had just changed his diaper, on a blanket on the floor in the living room, and left him lying on his back. She left the room for a moment to throw away the diaper and wash her hands, and when she came back--no more than a minute later--William was on his stomach! He has gotten very good at propping himself up, and so he just looked up at Mirjam with his big blue eyes and smiled when she came back in the room. This isn't the first time we've missed out on something because we left the room for a minute.

A couple months ago (he was seven weeks old at the time) Mirjam and I had just finished changing his diaper and laid William on his stomach. We left the room to throw away the diaper and wash our hands. When Mirjam returned to the living room she yelled for me to come back quickly. I ran in and saw William lying on the blanket on the living room floor--on his back! We put him on his stomach again and told him to repeat the action. He just looked at us for a while and grunted. But after a couple minutes of encouragement, he slid one arm forward so that it was no longer propping his chest and head up, tilted to one side, and did a sort of slow sideways flip to end up on his back. Mirjam and I cheered, of course and wanted him to do it again. William surely thought we were nuts.

Up all night

2004-07-24T06:40:00.001-05:00

The family flew to Germany on Tuesday, which means we arrived on Wednesday, but weren't coherent until Thursday. It is now 6 a.m. Saturday, and having been unable to sleep since about 3:30 a.m., because that's what international travel does to me sometimes, I decided to write a little about our adventures flying across the Atlantic. *Edit: this turned out to be quite long, so grab a glass of lemonade.* Oh, I am typing on a Germän kezboard, sö if things löök a little fünnz, it#s becäuse söme öf the kezs äre bäckwärds.

The flight from Salt Lake City to Atlanta (three hours) went just fine. Of course Delta is now charging real money for anything more than pretzels and apple juice on domestic flights. Caveat emptor! An announcement about menus over the P.A. in the terminal reminded me of the new food-for-cash policy, so I quickly dashed to the nearest food counter to purchase two $2 bagels and two $1 bananas before boarding the plane. Yes it was pricey, but I thought they would be more filling than one $8 dollar sandwich on board. We also brought two water bottles and some granola bars with us from home.

Once we were airborn, William slept in Mirjam's sling for most of the flight. Of course he's so curious, we had to let him get up and look around at all the interesting people. He cried only briefly a couple times, and take off and landing went fairly well. The plane had three seats on each side of the aisle, and the woman who booked our seats tried to give us some extra room by putting my seat on the aisle and Mirjam on the window, in the hopes that no one would want to book the middle. Didn't work. The guy who got the middle seat graciously offered it to me in return for my aisle seat so Mirjam and I could sit next to each other. He had an iPod, so I would have agreed to just about anything at that point. After his initial attempts at small talk couldn't distract me from sitting next to my favorite 3-month-old, he started listening to a John Grisham audio book. Oh, Delta also charges two dollars for headphones on domestic flights so you can listen at dangerously high volumes to the bad in-flight movie on the five-inch screen above you.

The flight from Atlanta to Frankfurt was a little harder on us all. Hey, you try flying east for three hours and then eight more and see what that does to your mind. This time, the in-flight meals and movies were all free, probably only to avoid any allegations of international imprisonment.  I just remembered, Delta lost $2 billion in the last quarter. That was announced the day we flew. Anyway, we got pretzels and apple juice, we got a tray full of airline "food," we got movies at deafening levels, and in the "morning" we got a nice little pre-packaged wet wipe instead of my favorite "hot towel?" I was really disappointed about that. I also look forward to being asked if I would like to scald my face first thing in the morning. Alas, $2 billion is a lot to lose in one quarter. Oh, for breakfast we also got a warm croissant, four ounces of orange juice and a cold banana, which probably also cost me a dollar, but I forgot to ask for an itemized bill at the airport, so I couldn't say for sure.

At the gate in Atlanta, I asked if we could get a bassinet for William, but was told they were already reserved. I went back later and asked if we could get our seats moved a little further forward, and I was told that the coach class starts only five rows in front of us. With a smile on my face, I returned to where Mirjam was sitting and shared the good news, when , a few moments later, I was called back to the ticket counter.

The woman who paged me took my boarding passes, scribbled something on them, and after I asked if there was a problem, she informed me that she was changing our seats so we could have the bassinet that we had reserved. It took me a couple of seconds to understand that apparantly, she wasn't able to match up the name from her printout with my face immediately after seeing me for the first time in her life. Clairvoyance, people! It's a great thing!

Our new seats were directly in front of the class-dividing wall and William's bassinet was connected to it after takeoff. The wall's always a nice place to sit because you don't have another seat inches in front of your nose, but you give up some toe room.   The seats on the plane were in a 2-5-2 arrangement, and Mirjam and I sat by ourselves on the right side. From our position in the first row behind first class, we could see that it wasn't even close to being full, so you know what we were thinking from Nova Scotia to London. William cried a little more on this flight, but that was probably because the contrast between the classes was more prominent--it was oh so close. Also, he was a little more tired.

Mirjam's parents picked us up from the airport in Frankfurt. We were all very tired at that point, not having slept much the last 24 hours. The four-hour drive home was especially hard on William. It was a warm day, and the car didn't have A/C, which is still considered a luxury in Germany. Between the heat and the long drive, William relenquished his role of being the model child for a while. He cried and cried until finally we had to pull over at a rest stop.

We nibbled on some food that Mirjam's mom had made. I had forgotten how good German bread, meats, and dairy products are. Oh, man, I'm glad I'm here. *Drool* Anyway, after a little cooling off, we got back in and drove at an exhilerating speed (love that Autobahn!) for a while longer until William just couldn't take much more. Another rest stop. This time, a deli was selling bratwurst, so of course we had to have one. These aren't your dad's Johnsonville brats, mind you, these are the real thing--Thüringer Roster--and there *is* a difference.

After a brat and a walk with William, we got back in and zoomed off again. We were so close to Zwickau, and there weren't any more rest stops, so Mirjam had to (*warning* close your eyes while reading this next line) take William out of his car seat and hold him in the sling to quiet him down.

That evening, William went to bed around 6 p.m. He didn't wake up until about 8 a.m. the next morning. There he goes, doing that perfect baby thing again.

Family photos

2004-07-15T23:05:00.000-05:00

We had our first family photo session yesterday at Sears. I told my dad and he laughed and said he used to go to Sears with the family, too. I don't remember that, but he's got the pictures to prove it, so I'll believe him--this time. You were right, Dad, they do a good job for a good price. It's the price that attracted him, I'm sure. To be fair, we had a coupon, too, otherwise I probably would have grumbled a lot more about it. In the end, it was worth it, and we'll be sure to get more pictures professionally taken, probably from Sears, as soon as we have more kids. I'll let the pictures speak for themselves.

The games people play

2004-07-15T21:32:00.000-05:00

When William is lying on his back, I take both his feet, pull them up in the air and let them drop while saying "kaaa...boom!" At first, the corners of his mouth twitch upward. With each "ka-boom!" his smile widens, his mouth opens, and sometimes I even get a laugh. He seems to like it; either that, or he's already learned to just humor me once in a while. It works best when he's well rested, otherwise he doesn't find it as amusing. It's always good for a distraction from crying.

He also likes it when I bicycle his legs, faster and faster, while exciting my voice. I also like to bounce his hands and arms around, or try to tickle him under his chin and on his chest, which I think he's starting to understand is supposed to make him giggle. He's still learning.

While I'm on the subject of smiling and such, I've heard that smiles from newborns are usually just gas. Well, I am going on the record right now to state unabashadly that gas and other internal discomforts produced a completely different facial and aural reaction in my newborn. He wasn't laughing, I can tell you that, and neither were we.

Being three months old, he now has less gas, or at least has learned which muscles to flex and which muscles to relax in order to produce the most relieving effect. Ahem. He also smiles a lot more lately. I wonder if the two phenomena are related.

Favorite noises

2004-07-14T01:36:00.000-05:00

I think my favorite squeak that William does is this: "nnn-G!" That's with a hard "G" on the end. Mirjam said her favorite is "mmm-MA!"

Tonight when I came home from work, Mirjam said he had been crying for hours, but he wouldn't fall asleep. Sometimes when he cries, his chin tenses up really tightly, his lower lip sticks way out, and he frowns so hard it looks like his cheeks might fall off. It's terribly sad and terribly adorable at the same time.

I guess that qualifies as more of a favorite facial expression than a favorite noise. But there is absolutely nothing more adorable than when he stretches when he's just waking up. His little body slowly contorts this way and that, fists clenched and arms up by his head. It's so cute I could just eat him up. In fact, sometimes when I'm holding him close to my chest, so that his ears are just at my mouth's level, I take a nibble or two.

First post

2004-07-07T23:28:00.000-05:00

This will be a space where I will keep the world informed of the latest news regarding William. I'm hoping to set up a family site where we can regularly post pictures, this blog, and other stuff. I also thought about having Mirjam write a blog in German. Two perspectives, two languages. More to come.