We play a lot of pretend. Julia is always saying, "You be ___ and I'll be ___." If one of the characters is male, she always assigns me that role. If I protest, she tells me that it's just pretend. If I protest further, she explains that I have to be the boy because I'm bigger. In this video, Julia, enamored with her new ballet dress, makes the rare decision to play the prince.
June 10, 2009
May 21, 2009
Big Numbers
Wes at his 2 month visit:
15 lbs. 11 oz. (a gain of 6 lbs and 12 oz. since birth!)
25 3/4 in. (a gain of 3 3/4 in. since birth!)
15 lbs. 11 oz. (a gain of 6 lbs and 12 oz. since birth!)
25 3/4 in. (a gain of 3 3/4 in. since birth!)
I love chubby babies as much as the next person, but seeing as how it's unlikely we're going to have a baby #3, I wish he'd slow down a little so I could savor that newborn stage of tiny clothes, delicate baby. I imagine Wes in a parody of an Anne Geddess photo shoot - the kind where they lay a baby across an adult's forearm in some cute (or creepy - it's in the eye of the beholder) pose. Only Wes wouldn't be lying horizontally - the arm would be sagging with the weight of a giant baby. Hmm, perhaps I'm not describing it appropriately, but I think such a parody calender might sell well.
A few days after his one month birthday, I took this picture with his gold jewelry. I don't know anything about this Chinese tradition, I just know you are supposed to put gold jewelry on a one-month old and take pictures of him naked. Unless that's just a family tradition. In any case, I preferred Wes keeping his diapers on. (And normally, I wouldn't beam so openly, but that tummy is quite something, wouldn't you say?)
May 01, 2009
Sleeping . . . or Not
Oh, so much to catch up on. Wes is already 6 weeks old! There's a lot I would like to share, but I'll just start with something random as I am still adjusting to this new life and the crazy amount of laundry I now do - there's Wes' clothes which pile up quickly (spit-up and poop accidents), cloth diapers (going pretty well so far) and more of my own clothes (spit-up and breastmilk accidents). Anyway, Wes is still sleeping in a cradle in our room, although to be honest, half of the night is spent in our bed. This was Wes his first night home.
When I went to put Wes down for a nap today, this is what I found.
I guess Julia keeps busy with "Baby Julia" when I'm busy with Baby Wes.
For most of last night, this cradle was empty. Instead, for the second time since Wes was born, our queen-sized bed hosted Wayne, Julia, Wes, me and Ralphie. Julia never expressed interest in sleeping with us until Wes. In the first few days after Wes came home, Julia would tell me that Wes ought to sleep in his own room. I found her transparency touching, but the resulting behavior has not been so pleasant. She has frequently woken up in the middle of the night and made a fuss (once a thirty-minute tantrum) to have me sleep with her in her room. For now, I think the 5-in-a-bed is a better option when Julia is insistent. As uncomfortable as it is to sleep all together, it is cozy. And once Wes starts sleeping in his own room - probably in another 2 weeks - I think Julia will go back to being the good sleeper that she used to be.
When I went to put Wes down for a nap today, this is what I found.
I guess Julia keeps busy with "Baby Julia" when I'm busy with Baby Wes.For most of last night, this cradle was empty. Instead, for the second time since Wes was born, our queen-sized bed hosted Wayne, Julia, Wes, me and Ralphie. Julia never expressed interest in sleeping with us until Wes. In the first few days after Wes came home, Julia would tell me that Wes ought to sleep in his own room. I found her transparency touching, but the resulting behavior has not been so pleasant. She has frequently woken up in the middle of the night and made a fuss (once a thirty-minute tantrum) to have me sleep with her in her room. For now, I think the 5-in-a-bed is a better option when Julia is insistent. As uncomfortable as it is to sleep all together, it is cozy. And once Wes starts sleeping in his own room - probably in another 2 weeks - I think Julia will go back to being the good sleeper that she used to be.
March 26, 2009
Wes Ai-Yu Narucki
As many of you know, we have been considering 3 names for the baby boy for a long time. Clyde, Wes or Ellis. We solicited opinions throughout the pregnancy and while there was no clear front runner, "Clyde" received the most intense negative reactions. Julia refused input on our three selections, except to say that Ellis was a girl's name (Alice and Ella). Her choices were Baby Jesus (a favorite of hers after learning the nativity story this year) and Picture Picture Mama Mama (I have no idea). We thought she'd forget about the name Baby Jesus by February, but she consistently kept it as a contender. In fact, when cousins Lorenzo and Joaquin came to visit and called the baby Mitchin (as they have for the past 6 months), Julia argued, "But his name is Baby Jesus."
As with the naming of Julia, we waited until the last possible minute to make a decision -when having to fill out the paperwork to leave the hospital. In our despair, we did consider "Jesus Mitchin Narucki." Julia finally decided to weigh in on the real choices and selected Wes. So there's the story. (We'll ignore the part where we made her indecisive (call him Clyde, we just want to hear you say Baby Clyde . . .) and she told us that the baby actually wanted to be named Ellis and then that she thought Clyde was a good name).
March 23, 2009
A New Addition - No, not the "Cool It Now" kind
After a 12-hour induction, most of which was spent watching March Madness and 2 movies, Carol triumphantly pushed out our newest addition at 11:01PM . Measuring in at 8lbs. 15oz. and 22 inches, it's no wonder he took so long to come out. Anyhow, here are some pics.
March 22, 2009
Paranoid Learning
(As I wait to hear from the hospital as to when I can go in to get labor induced, I figure I should try to write one last post completely centered around the little girl)
"Stop, Daddy. That's Dangerous."
In his attempts to get Julia to appreciate juvenille male humor, Wayne is jokingly putting fingers up his nose. Wayne laughs, and respectfully obliges Julia's instruction.
"Now go wash your hands daddy."
Julia has been preoccupied with germs and cleanliness for the past month. I think they did some lessons at school and we happened to find what we thought was a cute book from the library, "Germs," about a little germ named Pox, who doesn't like to infect kids like all the other bad germs. Pox helps a little girl's immune system thwart the evil intentions of other bad germs and becomes a celebrated hero. Julia is quite enamored of him. But she is currently very concerned about washing her hands (which is a great thing, I know!) so that she doesn't get a rash. She will ask you before and after you go to the bathroom whether you washed your hands.
In the procrastination period after bedtime stories, but before she falls asleep, Julia talks about sickness. How she doesn't want anyone to get sick. What happened to the Strep germ that infected her uncle? Her belief that Uncle Eddie got better after eating the Ginger Snap cookies that she made with her daddy. Her concern that her cough will never go away without medicine. Why won't we give her medicine? The latest escapades of her immune system (the Germs books cutely depicts your immune system as a miniature armored army of little yous).
We all helped create Julia's paranoia with our explanations of why we get sick, why we wash our hands, etc. I wonder if you can instruct without creating these obsessions. But I'm reminded of all that gets lost in translation when you communicate with a child. I remember forgoing cereals for probably 2 years after watching some health video in second grade. I don't know what that video was really about, but I remember it showing microscopic bugs that eat cereal. I was horrified at the thought of eating those bugs when eating cereal. I'm pretty sure I never explained this to my parents - I just told them I didn't want cereal.
I'm not too worried about raising an OCD kid - I've already seen her outgrow some obsessive behaviors, like needing every door to every room closed at all times. But I'm just reminded to try and be a little careful with how we explain things.
"Stop, Daddy. That's Dangerous."
In his attempts to get Julia to appreciate juvenille male humor, Wayne is jokingly putting fingers up his nose. Wayne laughs, and respectfully obliges Julia's instruction.
"Now go wash your hands daddy."
Julia has been preoccupied with germs and cleanliness for the past month. I think they did some lessons at school and we happened to find what we thought was a cute book from the library, "Germs," about a little germ named Pox, who doesn't like to infect kids like all the other bad germs. Pox helps a little girl's immune system thwart the evil intentions of other bad germs and becomes a celebrated hero. Julia is quite enamored of him. But she is currently very concerned about washing her hands (which is a great thing, I know!) so that she doesn't get a rash. She will ask you before and after you go to the bathroom whether you washed your hands.
In the procrastination period after bedtime stories, but before she falls asleep, Julia talks about sickness. How she doesn't want anyone to get sick. What happened to the Strep germ that infected her uncle? Her belief that Uncle Eddie got better after eating the Ginger Snap cookies that she made with her daddy. Her concern that her cough will never go away without medicine. Why won't we give her medicine? The latest escapades of her immune system (the Germs books cutely depicts your immune system as a miniature armored army of little yous).
We all helped create Julia's paranoia with our explanations of why we get sick, why we wash our hands, etc. I wonder if you can instruct without creating these obsessions. But I'm reminded of all that gets lost in translation when you communicate with a child. I remember forgoing cereals for probably 2 years after watching some health video in second grade. I don't know what that video was really about, but I remember it showing microscopic bugs that eat cereal. I was horrified at the thought of eating those bugs when eating cereal. I'm pretty sure I never explained this to my parents - I just told them I didn't want cereal.
I'm not too worried about raising an OCD kid - I've already seen her outgrow some obsessive behaviors, like needing every door to every room closed at all times. But I'm just reminded to try and be a little careful with how we explain things.
January 18, 2009
The Girl Spider Died And Isn't Here Anymore
In our home, we have photos of our grandparents who are no longer with us. On occasion, we have shown Julia these pictures so she understands that her nana, baba and gong gong also had moms and dads. We've tried to casually explain that they died and are not here with us anymore and she hasn't asked any further questions.
At school, with the kids who are already into superheroes, I think Julia has further picked up the words of kill and die and death. Not sure what she thinks it all means though.
When our fish died recently, I thought she might be ready to hear that it died. But when I told her, she asked me if it jumped out of its bowl and ran away. So I made the instant decision to back away from truth and replied yes, it went to visit its cousins.
During our recent vacation in Aruba, when Wayne or I would push the buttons on the safe and it would beep, she would yell at us, "If you push the buttons, you will die!"
A few days ago, Wayne and I looked at old photos with his parents while Julia was in the other room watching Little Einsteins. Occasionally we would show her a picture of Bertha's or Ed's parents and Bertha and Ed as children. We did not put it in any context of death or absence, but as we were getting ready to leave, she started singing a made up, repetitious song, "I don't know why you died, I don't know why you died."
Later that night, she drew a picture of a spider with 30-some legs and said, "This is a girl spider who died and isn't here anymore. Do you remember her? I miss her. . . . "
I responded, "But she had a happy life with friends and family. And they will always remember her." Some point later in the conversation, I mentioned that everyone dies.
Julia, with bright eyes and a wide smile, "But I'm not going to die."
Me: Oh really? (awkward parenting moment). Yes, you are going to live a very long happy life.
Julia: Baba's mom died and isn't here anymore.
Me: We're lucky she took care of Baba when he was a little boy. Baba is so happy his mommy loved him and Uncle Frankie and Aunt Rose.
* * *
Julia: Nana and Baba are not going to die. I need them to play with me.
Nana and Baba are active and healthy (thank goodness), but tears fill my eyes and I'm not sure if it's just me or pregnancy hormones. I can't say anything. I just smile and hug her.
I think I'll delay our plan to start celebrating the Chinese New Year tradition of paying homage to one's ancestors with a "mini-shrine" of pictures, food and incense. I'm not prepared for the sudden increase in the degree of difficulty of Julia's questions.
At school, with the kids who are already into superheroes, I think Julia has further picked up the words of kill and die and death. Not sure what she thinks it all means though.
When our fish died recently, I thought she might be ready to hear that it died. But when I told her, she asked me if it jumped out of its bowl and ran away. So I made the instant decision to back away from truth and replied yes, it went to visit its cousins.
During our recent vacation in Aruba, when Wayne or I would push the buttons on the safe and it would beep, she would yell at us, "If you push the buttons, you will die!"
A few days ago, Wayne and I looked at old photos with his parents while Julia was in the other room watching Little Einsteins. Occasionally we would show her a picture of Bertha's or Ed's parents and Bertha and Ed as children. We did not put it in any context of death or absence, but as we were getting ready to leave, she started singing a made up, repetitious song, "I don't know why you died, I don't know why you died."
Later that night, she drew a picture of a spider with 30-some legs and said, "This is a girl spider who died and isn't here anymore. Do you remember her? I miss her. . . . "
I responded, "But she had a happy life with friends and family. And they will always remember her." Some point later in the conversation, I mentioned that everyone dies.
Julia, with bright eyes and a wide smile, "But I'm not going to die."
Me: Oh really? (awkward parenting moment). Yes, you are going to live a very long happy life.
Julia: Baba's mom died and isn't here anymore.
Me: We're lucky she took care of Baba when he was a little boy. Baba is so happy his mommy loved him and Uncle Frankie and Aunt Rose.
* * *
Julia: Nana and Baba are not going to die. I need them to play with me.
Nana and Baba are active and healthy (thank goodness), but tears fill my eyes and I'm not sure if it's just me or pregnancy hormones. I can't say anything. I just smile and hug her.
I think I'll delay our plan to start celebrating the Chinese New Year tradition of paying homage to one's ancestors with a "mini-shrine" of pictures, food and incense. I'm not prepared for the sudden increase in the degree of difficulty of Julia's questions.
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