Wednesday, September 10, 2014

Today

Will, getting ready to go play in the water: "Oh! Put on my baby suit."

Scooping out water from the bucket and carrying it over to pour on my bare foot - walking ever so slowly, saying, "Be cafful... beee cafful...." - spilling the majority of it by the time he reaches me.

Will, coming up to me as I'm making dinner (pounding venison steaks), asking to help and receiving rare permission - I help him onto the counter and show him the plastic-covered steaks and hand him the hammer - he looks at it with a gleam in his little eyes: "Get hammer, bang MEAT!" A few "bangs" and he immediately begins looking around for whatever else needs his handiwork.

Abraham Kaplan was SO RIGHT: "Give a small boy a hammer, and he will find that everything he encounters needs pounding."

Barrett had a rough day today. Well, as rough as a day for Barrett can be. Short naps, not contented to sit on one spot for long, chewing desperately on everything, clinging to me like a little monkey. Normally my kids are "dead weight" kids when I hold them, but yesterday, B was stuck fast. Still happy, though, and just the sweetest thing. It seems like he's teething, but I wouldn't expect the top two quite yet. I was extremely thankful for my Ergo yesterday. He hung out in it - happily - a LOT.

He hardly nursed - ate a lot of food - bit me a couple times - finally I just pumped him a big old bottle and he drank/chomped his way through that. I love nursing a little baby, but when they get to this age I start to fall out of love with it. The biting is the worst. I instinctively want to smack him in the face (of course I would not) and I squeal, "Barrett, NO!" He's frightened and begins to cry. My milk production is haywire because he only gets a couple really good feedings (when Will's asleep). He needs to nurse but he's too interested in other things to have patience. I'm hoping to make it to a year, but I'm thinking pumped milk may be a good chunk of that.

Will was SO CUTE WITH HIM today. He is very tender toward him - he just needs a bit of direction. When he didn't want Barrett to chew on his tractor, I asked him to find another toy for his brother. He spent several minutes bringing an assortment of animals and when he was done, he pointed to the pile around Barrett and cried, "Oh look, Momma, Barrett MADE dat!" (Which is what he usually says about himself when he's proud of something - "I made dat!") Later, when Barrett whimpered in his command center, Will said sweetly, "It's okay, Barrett - don't be 'cared - don't cry -  Momma's right dere." I try to pile praise on him for being so sweet to Barrett.

It is truly one of my greatest desires that they love each other and be best friends.

Barrett is so close to crawling! Maybe the stress of growing and learning a new skill is contributing to his jumbled up sleep and increased fussiness (though I hate to use that word since he's really not fussy). But one thing I do know: I am not stressing about it. I know this will go by very, very quickly, and before I know it he won't be a roly poly chubby baby anymore. He'll be a big two-year-old whose sleep patterns are predictable (let's hope). So, Baby Barrett, I'll take it.

Tonight, in preparation for his hunting season, Brian strapped Will onto his back, hiked up and down the hill with him, and shot his bow ("you have to hold still, buddy"). It's been quite a while since Will's been in this carrier, but he did great. Brian says that the whole time Will observed, "I ride back, like Barrett."

two buds

  

uphill trek

little feet

Will says, "Good shot, daddy!"

"Oh! Get ayyows!"

 fussy(ish) baby selfie

Barrett looks funny here. I'm terrible with captions. He looks like he's pretty sure he's got bigger concerns than taking selfies.

  

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