Archive for the ‘Newsletters’ Category

Two No More

12 Jun

Dear Korenpants,

Well, here it is.  The day we bid the term “toddler” farewell.  You are officially a preschooler.

You have become very selective about the adjectives used to describe you.  For instance, the other day I told you that you were “awesome sauce.”

“Mama.  I am NOT a SAUCE.”
“Then what are you?”
“I’m just Awesome Koren.  No, actually, I’m Handsome Koren.”

I couldn’t help but agree.

You have turned into quite the little ham, full of mischief and fun, but also very loving.  You’re a cuddler and I can never get enough of the little hugs you dish out at random.

You are Mama’s little helper and always eager to accompany me on a shopping trip… though I suspect that has a lot to do with the fact that you often get rewarded for good behavior.  A couple of weeks ago, you earned a stuffed dog after a long morning at Ikea.  You named him Precious Pie and he is always by your side while you sleep, and often during the day as well.

Last week we started gymnastics.  You are thrilled with gymnastics, which is not surprising.  Jumping on a trampoline, climbing, swinging from bars, running through obstacle courses – these are all favorite activities of yours, and all a part of gymnastics.  Your class is small, with only two other kids, so you get lots of attention – that’s a good thing because Coach Olivia has to work to keep you on task during the obstacle courses.  You would much rather skip some of the obstacles to repeat your favorite parts over and over, and occasionally wander into a neighboring course to pursue some activity that looks interesting.  Every day that I ask you what you think we should do today, your reply without hesitation is, “Gymnastics!”

Swimming, on the other hand, is not your favorite activity.  You had actually made quite a bit of progress and by your 3rd lesson you were beginning to show some interest instead of crying through the entire 30 minutes.  But then your teacher quit and you had a new teacher.  A new teacher is unsettling enough at your age, but apparently nobody told this teacher that you had not had as many lessons as the other kids in the class.

Unaware that you had never put your face into the water, she immediately dunked you in the water.  And let go.

It was pretty traumatic after that.  Copious amounts of tears.  You were heavily rewarded with M&Ms once I intervened and she realized her mistake, but you have cried through every lesson since.  Here’s hoping you can get a little more comfortable with swimming over the next several weeks.

Your new love is baseball, and I wish it was cooler outside so you could hit wiffle balls with your big red bat for as long as you like.  I swear, you could do it all day.  And you’ve gotten pretty good at making contact.  I love the way you jump into position when I remind you to turn sideways before I pitch the ball.

Potty training is going well.  I was beginning to get worried when several attempts proved failures a few months ago.  You start Summer Camp tomorrow and they won’t take you unless you are fully potty trained.  While we do have the occasional accident when you’re fully involved in some really interesting task, for the most part you manage to keep your pants dry during the day.  Honestly, there was a time when I fully expected to still be changing your diaper when you turned 5, but we seem to have overcome that obstacle, hallelujah.

You have taken well to moving back to Texas, and really love having your old room back.  Whenever anyone comes to visit, you insist on giving them a tour of your room because it’s “So Cute!”  Sometimes you get sent there for Time Out but that doesn’t stop your mischief.  A couple of days ago, you were in “solitary confinement” for rest time and I was sitting at my desk.  You kept opening your door to whisper sweet nothings to me as I sat at my desk, which completely anything solitary or restful on your part.  But it’s hard to get angry or mete out consequences for such things when someone is whispering things like, “Mama, I love you.”  “Mama, I love building towers with you and knocking them down.”  “Mama, I love playing downstairs with you.”  “Mama, I love reading stories with you.”  “See you in a little while, Mama.”  “Mama, I love you.

While you are often a Mama’s boy, you love doing things with Daddo too, especially if they involve helping with the grownup stuff.  Today the girls went shopping and while we were gone, you and Daddo fixed Kaelin’s bedroom door.  You were SO VERY proud of yourself and wanted to take each one of us upstairs to show us your handiwork when we got back.

Your 3-Year doctor appointment went really well, except for a surprise shot and blood drawing that none of us were expecting.  Then when it was all over they had to come back and squeeze more blood out of your finger because your iron test came back low.  You were not a fan.  Fortunately, it came back normal the second time.  WARNING:  Proud Mama Bragging is About to Commence. The doctor was impressed by your abilities, both verbally and physically.  When I filled out the developmental progress questionnaire, I was well into the expectations for 5-year-olds before I had to stop.

The doctor was curious about your toes though, and I was a bit embarrassed at the condition of your feet.  You are uncannily prone to injuring your feet and I should just put shoes on you every hour of the day, including when you’re swimming.  Your big toenails are brown because you dropped my 3-lb hand weight on them (two separate times) a couple of months ago.  You have open blisters on the bottoms of your big toes and scrapes on the tops of your feet from monkeying your way around the pool wall.  You have a myriad of other cuts and bruises and scrapes on your feet from random slips, falls, collisions, door accidents, and any other injury you could possibly impose on your feet.  You are a little trooper though, and rarely complain.

Little guy, you are so full of life and love and joy that watching you grow up is entirely bittersweet.  I have informed you, as I have done with Kaelin, that you are not allowed to grow any more and must always remain small and two.  You kindly tell me that isn’t going to happen and that you’re going to grow up no matter what I say, but you’re sure to remind me that you’ll always be my little boy, no matter how big you get.

Love you Bub.


Daddo was informed this morning that 3 is old enough to shave.

Comments Off on Two No More

Posted in Birthdays, Kid Quotes, Koren, Milestones, Newsletters, Undeniable Cuteness


Kaelin: 5 Years

17 Oct

Dear Baby Girl,

You are no longer anything resembling a baby, but when I complain about that, you still reassure me that you will always be my little girl no matter how big you get.

Today, you are five years old.  FIVE.  I do not know how this happened.

I mean, I get how this:

Kaelin Baby

turned into this:

Kaelin Sailor Dress

But how this:

Kaelin Shoes

turned into this:

Kaelin Beachis a complete and total mystery to me.

(Insert the obligatory “WaaaaahMyBAAAAAYYYYYBEEEEEisGrowingUpTOOOOOFAAAAAST” mommyhood rantings)

You are active and friendly, setting up play dates with the kids at the library behind my back, and inviting the grocery store cashier to your birthday party (which, um, is going to be in Texas, so I hope you didn’t offer to pay her airfare).

Your main love at the moment is bugs and all things creepy-crawly.  In Texas, bugs are scary because of the huge variety of stinging, blood-sucking, biting ones.  But here?  You are thrilled beyond belief with the moths and other little winged creatures that make their way onto our porch and into our house.  Your teacher caught a butterfly for you and let you bring it home one day, and you would have thought he’d given you the moon.  We have to have daily conversations about how bugs aren’t pets and that you can’t bring them into the house, EVEN if they’re in a container.  I know that sounds cruel, but the container is inconsequential because of the fact that the bugs never stay IN IT.

You don’t know this yet, but you’re getting an earthworm farm for your birthday.  Because worms?  I can handle worms.  They’re still creepy-crawly and icky but they’re not bugs.  So when you’re talking to your therapist in a few years about how your mother restricted your childhood experience because I wouldn’t let you keep bugs, JUST REMEMBER THE WORMS.  I GAVE YOU THE WORMS.

(Please, please, please, please don’t let them loose in the house.)

You’re learning to read and write and do some math.  I have no doubt that you’re behind many of your Texas friends in these areas because your preschool seems to place little to no emphasis whatsoever on academics.  So the only academic environment you have is, well, me.  And the measly little homeschooling lessons we do at the kitchen table.  Which I will go ahead and apologize to you for because your Mama?  Was not meant to be a homeschool teacher.

You enjoy reading and your own progress as you begin to recognize and sound out more and more words.  You have begun to try sounding out words you see on cereal boxes and in magazines.  Also, you pick words and try to spell them in your head.  I often get random questions like, “Mama, what letter do you put in a word to make the ‘a’ say its name?”

Your writing needs some work because it bores you and I have to heavily reward you to keep you focused for 15 minutes a day.  Also, the concept of telling time is challenging and can be frustrating for us both.  You do enjoy math, because we use chocolate chips to demonstrate addition and subtraction. You’re pretty good at our little addition flash cards and can occasionally do the math in your head without the use of the chocolate chips.

You are becoming more and more independent and can play on the porch (catching bugs, of course) or in your room for long periods of time.  You have also developed the occasional ‘tude, which gets you sent to your room.

You are developing an interest in jokes, but don’t quite get the concept of a punchline.

“Why did the crayons color by themselves? Because they wanted to draw their owner!”

You have started a movement/dance class and are loving it.  I look forward to letting you try all kinds of extra-curricular activities this next year.  You have informed me that you wish to do ice skating and gymnastics when we move back to Texas.  Oddly, they don’t have any figure skating lessons available in this part of Alaska.

You have started thinking about the concept of marriage and are concerned about your lack of candidates.  You told me the other day that you couldn’t decide whether you wanted to be a boy or a girl (the concept of whether or not you actually get to MAKE that choice didn’t appear to be relevant).  It was good to be a girl because girls are better and more fun, but it would be a nice to be a boy because boys get to marry girls.  And it would be better to marry a girl than a boy because boys are mean and throw things.  And if you have to marry a boy, then you should be allowed to marry your Daddo.  Mama can just go marry someone else.

You are tenacious and think you can debate your way around any answer.  You are your father’s daughter.

You have a really selective memory.  You can remember a promise we made to you three months ago, but forget that I gave you a set of instructions within 15 seconds.  You are your mother’s daughter.

Little girl, you’re getting less and less “little” every day.  You’re tall and lean and love to run and jump and climb.  Your hair is getting long and we’re going to have to take care of that soon because you have inherited your mother’s tender head and brushing your hair in the morning is akin to ripping your fingernails off with a pair of pliers.

“Mama, which laugh did Tinkerbell come from?”
“I’m not sure, hon.  The movie doesn’t say and I don’t know very much about fairies.”
“Maybe she came from one of my laughs.  Because I laugh a LOT.”
“Yes you do.  Maybe she did.”
“I think you’re beautiful.”

You are precious.  And charming.  And sweet (when you want to be).  You have my heart.




Koren: 2 Years

12 Jun

You love to run.  You chase your sister around the house and spin in circles until you fall over.  You go romping up and down hills and climb the stairs without even holding on to anything.

You’re fast.  Especially when making a beeline toward mischief.  I’ve banned you from our bathroom but somehow you find your way in there to wreak havoc at every opportunity.  You cannot resist the kitchen cabinets – which, unfortunately, are ALL at your eye level.

You get an immense amount of glee out of stealing things, usually your sister’s favorite toys.  This morning it was my granola, which you acquired by bringing the bathroom stool into the kitchen and climbing up to steal the box off the counter.  “I stole it! Mama’s gahnola!” you informed your father as you rushed into the living room, digging your little paws into the box.

Your vocabulary has improved by leaps and bounds in the last 4 months.  You have your own way of phrasing things that makes it seem like English is your second language and has earned you the nickname “Little Yoda.” Your most frequent phrases include, “I drop it, my boppy” or “I stole it, Kaelin’s kitty,” or “I no like it, the beach.”

When you can’t quite express something that you want us to see, rather than your old method of (heaven help me) screaming at the top of your shrill little lungs, you now take our hand and lead us to it, saying “Come, I show you.”

The screaming hasn’t completely disappeared.  You are very possessive of things, regardless of whether or not they’re actually yours, and frequently let loose a shrill shriek when you think Kaelin is encroaching on your property or not sharing her things to your satisfaction.  “MINE” is a word you have learned very well and you use it often.

You’re still a good eater and will try nearly anything, then inform us whether “I like it” or “I no like it.”  Your favorite food is bacon, and sometimes you get so happy about it that you break out into a dance.  You also really love blueberries.  You and your sister can down 2 cartons of blueberries in a single sitting.

You’re not a huge fan of the beach anymore.  Ever since you were surprised by a wake wave a couple of months ago, you have been very anxious at the beach and want to turn around as soon as you can hear the water.

You have gotten noticeably better about boats though, and don’t seem to be bothered by the noise anymore.

You’re a total ham.  You make silly faces and try your best to be a total goofball at every opportunity.  A couple of days ago I was changing your diaper and asked you why you were (insert silly goofball antic that I can’t remember).  You smiled at me and said “‘Cause I silly.”

Yes, son.  That you are.

You love school.  Perhaps it’s because you can be in the same class as Kaelin or maybe it’s because they have guinea pigs, but there was no adjustment period of prying you off my leg during drop-off.  You love going and every time I pick you up you are happily busying yourself around the room.

I had prepared to write about your miraculous transition into (FINALLY!) sleeping through the night just before your 2nd birthday.  We had 3 good nights in a row this week.

And then you were up about 6 times last night.  So never mind on that.

You have gotten very particular about how your blanket is placed at night.  You insist on having the dark side facing upward – if it isn’t you complain, “Turn over” until we comply.

You have a sweet nature and are empathetic when other people get hurt.  When Kaelin fell off the bed and cried the other day, you practically smothered her with attention and “What happen, Kae’n?  What happen, Kae’n?”  Sometimes you get in trouble for hitting or playing too rough, and when we scold you and tell you that what you did wasn’t nice, you immediately offer “Hugs nice, kisses nice” and give a sweet hug and kiss.

You thoroughly enjoyed your birthday today.  Since we couldn’t go to Seldovia this weekend due to Daddo’s recent injury (more on that later), your Ana came to see you and you have thoroughly enjoyed having her around.  After a low-key morning and a nap, we all went to the park where you swung, climbed, slid, and ran around until you could hardly stand up anymore.

Then we came home for some good grilled food, followed by cake and presents.  You were a little unsure about the cake at first but warmed up to it pretty quickly.  At least, you warmed up to the frosting.  I don’t think you ever actually had any of the cake itself.  You enjoyed opening all your gifts and took to the books immediately, persuading your Ana to read them to you until your bedtime.

I am hopeful that tonight will turn out to be a good night for sleep after your big day.  Goodness knows we could both use it.

Happy Birthday, my little man.  You find new ways to make me smile each day, and I look forward to the next year with you.



Koren: 19 Months

13 Jan

Dear Mischief Monkey,

You are 19 months old.  This was supposed to be your 18 month newsletter, but the time passed so quickly that I didn’t get around to writing it until now.  I guess that’s what you get for having your half-birthday in the month of December.

You have grown in so many ways over the last month.  You’re taller, heavier, and learning new things every day.

You have finally started talking and not a moment too soon.  You have a select repertoire of words that you use and it’s so nice to be able to communicate with you verbally.  The patches on my head where I have pulled out all my hair are finally getting the chance to fill in again.  Also keeping me sane is the fact that you now answer yes/no questions with head nods instead of blank stares and cries when I guess the wrong answer.

However, your favorite mode of conversation is still an incessant calling of someone’s name to get their attention without any sort of follow through.  Our car trips consist of this:

“Yes, Koren?”
“What is it, Koren?”
“What do you need, Koren?”
“I hear you, Koren.”
“What, Koren?”
(whispering) “…Mama.”

Besides Mama, your vocabulary includes words like Daddo, Ana, Papa, Kakee (Kaelin), baby, doggy, kitty, book, bippy (sippy), milk, cheese, cookie, up, down, out, please, juice, turkey, hi, hello, bye-bye, and ta-da!, though many of these are lacking a few consonants when you pronounce them.  You have also gotten fluent in a variety of animal sounds.  You never call animals by name (other than doggies and kitties) but rather by the sound they make.  A cow is a MOO and a sheep is a BAAA.

You’re working on learning the “k” sound and words like milk and book, which were formerly “mo” and “bah” now end in long, exaggerated guttural sounds.  It sounds like you’re trying to hock a loogie, but it’s cute somehow.

Like your sister, you have also invented your own word for pacifier.  Whereas Kaelin called it a “bup,” you prefer the term “boppy.”  You are quite attached to your boppy and I don’t foresee you being willing to give it up anytime soon.

You love eating, laughing, running, wrestling, jumping, cuddling after naps, animals, dancing, Dora, dolls, and all things pink.  I have a feeling that those last few are a result of having an older sister, but your father gets nervous each time you ignore the trucks in favor of pushing Baby Timmy around in the pink stroller.

You are completely enamored with your grandparents.  You walk around the house asking for Ana and Papa, and when you see Grandmommy or Grandpa, you almost hyperventilate if you can’t bear hug them RIGHT. THIS. SECOND.  But they don’t seem to mind.

We’ve had to start enforcing Time Out in your crib, because you are stubborn and mischievous and completely unresponsive to scolding or hand swats.  Your are NOT A FAN of the isolation routine, but it’s the only way we can keep you from pushing all the buttons on the DVD player.

Speaking of your mischief, which is never-ending… 

You love to steal things and run.  You are, unfortunately, very good at this.  You love to stick things in your ear.  I don’t get the appeal of this, but to each his own.  Except the part where you need to STOP THAT.  “Mama, Koren’s got the scissors and he’s sticking them in his ear!” is a phrase I’d prefer not to hear again.

You also love to elicit certain reactions out of people.  This morning I made the mistake of yelping and dodging a strawberry that you offered to wipe on my clothes.  Giggling, you then proceeded to chase me around the kitchen with the strawberry.  This afternoon I squealed in surprise when you put your arm (which was very COLD after having just been outside) down the front of my shirt.  You thought that was HILARIOUS and took upon yourself the mission to reproduce that reaction as often as possible.

You are a total ham.  This afternoon, you would call Mama or Daddo, just to get our attention so you could giggle your silly little tilted-head “I’m a ham” snicker-giggle – which is hard to explain in writing but maybe I can catch it on film sometime.

You love books.  Love them.  You often bring me a book and we read 1 or 2 pages, then you shut the book and say “Bye-bye!” and then jump down to grab another book.  Wash, rinse, repeat.  You especially love books that have sliders and flaps and doors and triggers, and you’re attention span for those types activities far exceeds my own.

You have been banned from the cribs at Mother’s Day Out because you jump in them instead of sleeping.  I have been informed that we need to purchase a nap mat for you. 

I did get you a trampoline with a handlebar for Christmas and it remains to date one of the best purchases I’ve ever made for you.  You love to jump to Laurie Berkner Band music videos and any other music that comes on TV.

You remain a superb hugger and a pretty affectionate little guy.  Sometimes I’ll just be standing there and you come over and wrap your arms around my legs for a few seconds before continuing on your way with your busy schedule.  I love those moments.

I also love the fact that you’re reliably napping for 2-hour stretches these days and if you haven’t gotten enough sleep when you wake up, I can leave you in your crib and you’ll GO BACK TO SLEEP.  This trait is a novelty to me, and it’s pretty awesome.

All in all, kid, you’re active, curious, energetic, and we’re both exhausted by the end of the day.  But this stage between 1 and 2 is one of the best and your Daddo and I are enjoying every day of discovering your personality and nature as you discover the world around you.

Sleep good kiddo.  We both need it.









Koren: 15 Months

12 Sep

Dear Little Mr.,

At 15 months, you are busy, adorable, impish, fun-loving, loud, curious, frustrating, insatiable, determined, affectionate, irresistible, messy, relentless, hungry, mischievous, and exhausting.

While I wouldn’t go so far as to say you’re “talking” yet, you do have a few words in your vocabulary (in no particular order of importance to you): Mama, Dada, Doggy, Kitty, Thank You, Baby, Turkey and Bacon.

Speaking of bacon, you’ve found your latest love in life.  You will drop any and all activity or forsake any mission at the mere mention of “bacon.”

Obviously, you are your father’s son.

Short of bacon, there is pretty much nothing that can deter you once you’ve set your sights on something.  Distraction is a futile effort.  Scolding just makes you laugh and then it becomes a game to see how quickly you can disobey and then hold out your hand to me for a “swat,” open-mouthed grin in place.

You are a poo.

Especially since you have the most contagious laugh known to man.  You’re lucky that you’re so cute – it has saved your life on several occasions.

You are getting better at following directions.  Since you’re not really talking yet, it’s more difficult for me to know exactly how much of what I’m saying is actually connecting in your head.  But now you can get in or out of your car seat on command (minus the buckling, of course), as well as “go find” things like your sippy or paci.  You are also quite familiar with the directions, “Stop turning on the TV,” “Put the dog food back,” and “GET OUT OF THE DISHWASHER.”  But your favorite direction is when we ask you to give someone a hug.  You have always been an excellent hugger and it’s one of my favorite things about you.

Today I asked you why you were holding a piece of fuzz.  You looked at your hand with an expression that seemed to say, “Why AM I holding a piece of fuzz?” – and then you dropped it.

You are becoming very aware that certain things have certain places, and you like to put them there.  Sippy cups go in the dishwasher or the cup holder.  Dog food goes in the dog bowl, even if you’re the reason it’s currently on the floor.  Lincoln Logs go in the can.  Your baby monitor goes in its cradle on my night stand (after you have removed it and played with it for a while).

There are a few place associations we need to work on, however…  Remote controls go on the table, not in your mouth.  Your shoes go in the closet, not in the bath tub.  Tissues remain in the box on the table, not scattered around the floor.  My oven mitt goes in the kitchen, not in the dining room window.

You still love getting caught.  If no one witnessed your moves, you run gleefully into the room, holding the evidence of your heist over your head in victory.  You wait until you’re sure we’ve noticed your stealthy accomplishment, then run away to evade capture.

A few weeks ago, we watched Mary Poppins.  You fell in love with the scene of the chimney sweepers dancing on the roof tops, and started trying to mimic their moves.  You now “dance” to music or when you’re particularly happy about something.  Like Bacon.

You’re in the Mother’s Day Out program at church and even though I think you end up having fun throughout the day, you’ve started crying when I drop you off.  It makes me sad because you never did this last year, but I think it has more to do with your age than the circumstances.  I’m hopeful that once you get used to the routine and teachers that we’ll see less tears.

You’re finally down to one nap per day, a schedule that is much easier to plan around.  While making this transition, there were a few weeks when you would sleep from 8pm to 6am, and then only nap for 1 hour and 15 minutes during the day.  This was obviously not enough sleep for you, because you would wake up grumpier than a pit bull with an ulcer. During this time, I thought I might just lose my mind.  Lately, however, you’ve been sleeping until almost 7am and if I fill your morning with activities, you’ll sleep about 2 hours in the afternoon.

Little Man, you’re tackling life with a degree of gusto that makes us all stand in awe of your energy.  Staying one step ahead of you is becoming increasingly challenging.  But I can’t help looking forward to my next drive-by hug.





Koren: 12 Months

14 Jun

Dear Mr. Busy,

While there are a lot of things I could say to sum up the little man you have become during your first year, I think your Papa put it best during your recent visit to Seattle:  “Your son is perfect, and relentless, and hungry.”

It’s true.  You wake up in the morning happy and ready to destroy (after putting away a breakfast that could feed a team of construction workers, of course).  You are so BUSY.


You still have no interest in talking whatsoever and we have yet to get you to voice anything besides the ever-constant “Dada Dada” … but fortunately you have eased up on the nazgul shrieking somewhat.

You are now quite good at walking.  I think you had an epiphany this last week in which you realized that walking really IS faster than crawling, and you have refused to go back to crawling ever since.  You zoom around the house chasing Kaelin, or Kitty or anything you see out of the corner of your eye that might fit in your mouth.


Unfortunately, you also have a penchant for running away and/or finding things you should not be messing with.  My day is a continual cycle of retrieving you from the dog food, the toilets, the dishwasher, the stairs, and any open doorway that serves as an exit.  You are relentless and the number of times you have been thwarted never prevents you from trying again 2 seconds later.

When we went for your photo session, I put you down long enough to sign my name on the credit slip.  By the time I caught up with you, you were already out the door and down the hallway in the mall.  Today at church, I put you down and you immediately honed in on the exit doors, 100 feet away.  By the time I caught you, you were 10 feet from running outside.  Today at Grandmommy and Grandpa’s house, I must have pulled you off the stairs 50 times.


You are fearless, and succeed in giving me at least 3 heart attacks every day.  You have no qualms about jumping head-first off the bed, climbing up anything perilous, running toward an open oven, walking right off the edge of the pool, or any other maneuver that spells certain death.  If you live to see age 3, it will be a wonder.  If I live to see you turn 3, it will be a friggin’ miracle.

We’re trying an experiment, which you have taken to surprisingly well.  We’ve taken you off of dairy to see if it has any effect on your chronic cough and tear duct issues.  So far, we haven’t seen much improvement, but we’re giving it some more time.  Fortunately, you take goat milk in a bottle like a champ, and as long as we don’t eat string cheese in front of you, you seem to do fine without the dairy.  If the experiment isn’t effective, we have an appointment lined up in a couple of weeks for you to have your tear duct probed, which sounds horrific and I’m really not looking forward to it, particularly since I don’t think it will actually solve the problem if your tear duct is under-sized.

You’re a somewhat solemn kid, but you smile and giggle the most when doing something dangerous or naughty.  Your favorite game is when Dada throws you up in the air.  You smirk and run away when I catch you holding something you should not be getting into.  And chasing/wrestling with your sister sometimes brings on a total giggle fit.


Dear one, you are exhausting.  In a wonderful, fascinating and entertaining way. 

Just between you and me though, it’d be nice if JUST ONCE, I could unload the dishwasher without having to pull you out of it six times.



Koren: 11 Months

12 May

Could it be that I’m actually getting a newsletter out on the day my son turns a new month?  Surely not…something must be wrong.

Dear Koren,

It appears I’ve already run through the list of nicknames we have for you and have reached the end.  It took me 11 months, and with all those names, it’s a wonder that you actually know your real name.

You’ve reached a couple of major milestones this month, not the least of which is walking.  After months of “teasing” us, you are finally taking independent steps on your own.  You don’t have the process perfected yet, so crawling remains your primary mode of transportation, but you often intersperse your crawls with steps.  A surefire method of getting you to walk your best is to be without a camera to capture it with.  Nonetheless, I have managed to put a few glimpses on record of the progress you’ve made over the last few days…

As for other milestones, there’s THIS:

After months of trying unsuccessfully to get you to use a sippy cup, I finally realized what I was doing wrong:  Apparently, milk is not a sufficient motivator.

A sippy cup filled with milk is only good for slamming down on your bananas to see how far the mush squirts across the room (bonus points if you hit Mama).  Or perhaps chewing on and then leaving your mouth open so the little milk that does come out drools down your bib and into your lap.

Son, you know how to party.

A sippy filled with JUICE, on the other hand – especially watered down, 50%-less-sugar, tastes-like-it-was-left-out-for-a-few-days juice?  THAT is worth learning how to drink from.

Mama has much to learn.

I’m finally comfortable enough with your stability to let you take baths without me being in the bathtub with you, and you have a blast.  Part of me is a little afraid to introduce you to a swimming pool this summer because I can see it now: A GIANT BATHTUB WITHOUT A HARD BOTTOM-SCRATCHING METAL DRAIN PLUG?  BE GONE, WOMAN, I’VE GOT A DATE WITH PARADISE.

Your mouth is your pocket.  You carry everything around in it, and we are constantly entertained watching you crawl around on all fours with a blanket or large stuffed animal hanging out of your mouth and dragging under your body.

You have turned into a really good eater.  It takes an act of God to get Kaelin to eat enough food to sustain a fruit fly.  Yet we can set anything before you and you’re all, OOH FOOD, MY FAVORITE!  ..Though you’re a stuffer and sometimes forget the whole “chew and swallow” part of the eating process.  We have to ration out your meals to avoid having you burst into tears because you have plugged your mouth too full of food and don’t know what to do about it.

You have recently decided to make a habit out of refusing to sleep past 11am.  Apparently you didn’t get the memo that when babies go down to 1 nap per day, they’re SUPPOSED TO DROP THE MORNING NAP.  At 9:30am, you become one grumpy bunny and have to go down for a nap before you start blowing up nearby houses with the sheer force of your yelling.  And after sleeping for an hour to an hour and a half, you’re awake for the rest of the day.

Son, Mama no likey.  The AFTERNOON nap is the important one.  THAT’S the one that helps me keep my sanity.  Especially now that your sister is no longer napping.  And dude.  For someone who has yet to sleep through the night regularly, I think we could all use a little more sleep than you’re netting us right now.

I have tried to explain this to you, but your response is the non-verbal equivalent of “Let’s put a pin in it.”

But you’re still pretty cute, a fact that has saved your hide on a number of occasions, Mr. Nosleep Yellypants.  Let’s face it: it’s pretty hard to resist this face for long.


Koren: 10 Months

19 Apr

In case you ever wondered why I can never get a newsletter out on time…

Read the rest of this entry »