The Woes of the 20+ Pound Boy

All this kid wants is to crawl. The problem is that his belly is so big that when he gets on all fours, he gets high centered. He keeps moving his arms and legs, but they're not on the ground so he just ends up air-swimming.

Sunday Best

Whose kids are these, anyway?

The Evil Hairdresser

Curtis got a real haircut from Grandma Martha today. Fortunately, Paige had prepped him for it.

Warning: A Picture So Cute You Will Die

Curtis kind of has a drooling problem. Fortunately, now he has a legitimate excuse. At just under five months, the little guy is getting his first tooth. The other day I had him in the Bumbo for about five minutes. By the time I got him out he was literally wet down to his toes. He didn't mind. Just look at that face.

All The Things Curtis is Not

Curtis shows the happiness that comes from Grandma giving you 'business hair'

Paige spends every waking moment talking. She comfortably executes both sides of the conversation, but still has to be acknowledged in everything she says.

Example:

PAIGE: Where's Danny? (the drummer in my band)
ME: [I am forced to repeat this question in order for her to answer. If I don't she just keeps asking, FOREVER.] Where's Danny?
PAIGE: He's at playing the drums.

We have this same conversation about airplanes, helicopters, grandma, kids in her nursery class, and the moon...every day.

The other night, Traci was at work and I was hanging out with both of the kids. Paige and I had to have the following conversation:

PAIGE: Is Curtis a refrigerator?
ME: Is Curtis a refrigeratior?
PAIGE: No!!!
PAIGE: Is Curtis a window?
ME: Is Curtis a window?
PAIGE: Nooooo!!!

This went on for about half an hour. We were able to determine that Curtis was not in fact a kitchen, a ball, a dog, or a computer (thank goodness!); nor was he in the swing, in the tub, or outside. Fortunately, we did get to the bottom of the mystery. Paige was able to verify that he was "a cute little guy," "a little brother," and "on the floor." Phew. I had really been worried that Curtis was either a lamp, a couch, or a tuba.

Second Kid Blues

Curtis is right to be frightened of his scary big sister

I can already tell that Curtis is getting different treatment than Paige did. Case in point, we made Paige wait until the mature age of two years old before going to her first concert. Curtis got to see Nada Surf at just three months. Lucky dude.

The show was at the Gallivan Center and I thought we'd be able to find a place where we could sit down and see the band. No. Having to settle for one or the other, we chose sitting down. Traci and Curtis spent the evening on the grass. Paige and I alternated between sitting with them and watching the show. I gauged her enjoyment level by the intensity with which she pounded my head while she sat on my shoulders.

I was very happy to get to see the band and the rest of the family seemed to have a good time as well. The last song, however, reminded me that I might want to keep the kids home for a few more years. Singer Matthew Caws encouraged the crowd to join in the refrain of "The Blankest Year," by screaming "*&$# it! I'm gonna have a party" repeatedly. After the second or third time, I was sure that Paige would have learned a new phrase. Fortunately, she wasn't paying attention.

I know she catches on to lyrics. She has to sing and dance along every time we see the Ting Tings iPod commercial. When it hits the chorus she loves to yell "Shut up and let me go. Hey!"

Life of the Pool Party

Curtis made his swimming pool debut tonight. It took a half hour to pour him into this getup (at 3 months, he’s a bit too big for this 6 month swimsuit). After five minutes of having his feet in the pool, he promptly fell asleep. Party animal.

Do It Again!

I put Curtis in the tub for my first time the other day. I get intimidated by the fragility of newborns, so I let Traci handle tubby time. I usually wrestle with Paige instead.

But Traci was at work and I was feeling brave so I decided to give it a shot, with Paige's help of course.

Things were going well. Paige and I were both hunched over his little tub scrubbing him down when a high-arching spray shot right for us. Luckily we were both able to dodge it. I was caught off guard and thrown off of my game plan. Paige, however, was blissfully amused.

"Curtis squirt!" she squealed. "Do it again!"

I was happy, Paige was sad, when he didn't do it again.

Golf, Anyone?

This is what Curtis wears when he needs to head off to the links.

Born to Rock

Here's Curtis in the Born to Rock onesy my mom bought him at the Hard Rock Hotel. My family members keep saying that he doesn't look like either Traci or me.

Hup Holland Hup

Since the Jazz's early departure, I've lost all interest in the NBA playoffs (I am still passively rooting for Kobe to lose). I'm now focusing all of my energy on soccer. It's Euro 2008 time and the Dutch have come out of nowhere to dominant the first round.

Dutch voetbal always brings out the nostalgia in me. It's been eight years since I walked down Dutch streets painted entirely orange in support of their team--Holland hosted the tournament in 2000. I've never experienced such sports excitement and watching the watching the games with my friends the Bloms, Butler, and Wix was one of the highlights of my mission.

It's been four years since I was sneaking out from my job at the Community College to drive to Provo to watch Euro 2004 on TV with my friend RB. That was a life-changing tournament. Not because of the soccer, but because RB decided to have a kid. (Fortunately, his wife was able to give birth without making us miss any of the games.)

RB was the first of our friends to (purposely) venture into parenthood. When we found out they were going to have a kid, it became time for us to start seriously considering the proposition.
Here we are, four years later, with two little kids. It's 4:00 a.m. and Traci is sitting next to me, giving Curtis a bottle.

Paige loves playing soccer. She dribbles the ball from one side of the backyard to the other, kicks it against the fence and yells "Goooooooooooooal!!!!" So we watch Euro 2008 together and we both cheer when Holland scores. (She just likes cheering.)

For the next round, I'll probably bust out my orange, inflatable Dutch crown, Oranje jersey and wooden shoes. RB has promised to find his Snickers Lucky Pants, the orange promotional whitey-tighteys from 2000. Hup, Holland, Hup!

Six Weeks of Curtis

So, little Curtis has been with us for almost six weeks now. We like him pretty good and intend to keep him. (I have a friend who adopted a kid a few months ago. I was a little surprised to hear that you basically have a one year guarantee when you adopt. If it doesn't work, you can just give 'em back.)

In some ways, newborn #2 seems easier than the first one. But it's likely just a change in perspective. We had a tough go with Paige from the beginning. She had acid reflux and would cry and cry. We spent many hours bouncing her and trying to hold her just right so she'd be happy. Curtis is pretty good for the most part, though he still isn't a very good night sleeper. And he barfs a lot.

Curtis probably seems a lot easier to deal with because we are so busy trying to handle Paige. It's nice to have a kid who just lies there and never cries, "No! Bye, bye change diaper" or "Bye, bye, wear Paigey's shoes."

But adding a second kid makes everything harder. Traci and I are back in the stage where going to the grocery store, getting in the shower, or cleaning the house seems like an insurmountable task. Much planning is required for anything.

Paige is doing pretty good with Curtis, or Cur-TIS, as she calls him. She has to climb all the way over him in order to regularly "kiss his head, kiss his head." She likes to hold him. But when she's done, she just pushes him over.

Traci is getting very little sleep. But she likes the kid, too.

word association

Though she never wants to listen to us, it's obvious Paige at least hears the things we say. Now when we change her diaper she immediately says, "Whoa, big poops!" regardless of the contents.

Diapers have become very intriguing to her and she's very interested in what's going on with Curtis' diaper. Yesterday I was just about done changing him when he squirted all over me. Paige watched the whole thing in quiet amazement. After I had gotten him all cleaned up and in a new diaper, Paige declared, "All gone, water poops!" Apparently, we have never taught about urine. But she knows about water and she knows about poops. Water poops. Makes sense to me.

On a linguistic note, I also like that Paige calls motorcycles "motor bicycles" and refers to her belly button as her "tummy button." I loved when I said goodbye to her this morning she replied, "Fax me."

Curtis at Three Weeks

Curtis seems slightly less amused.

Curtis in Real Life

So this is pretty much what Curtis is like.

Paigey vs. Curtis

My week of being home/at the hospital with my family is quickly coming to a close. The hospital stay went well enough (despite the generally poor service at Intermountain Medical Center) and we were happy that it was much shorter than our first go round. When the time came to leave, though, we were just as nervous as first-time parents. We worked to get Curtis into Paige's old car seat. We had to keep tightening and tightening those straps until it was small enough to fit the little guy. When we got him in the car we both immediately had the feeling of 'what are we going to do with this kid now?'

The first big challenge was facilitating his permanent introduction to his big sister. We took Curtis over to Traci's mom's to pick up Paige. We sat Curtis' car seat down in the living room and didn't say much about it to Paige. She saw him and kind of half-acknowledged him. We were okay with that. When we put them both in the car to go back home, we took away all books/toys that could have possibly been used as a projectile weapon.

Once at home, things went okay. Paige's only real reaction came when Curtis began to cry a bit. "Waaa!" Paige exclaimed. "Paigey's sad."

"Sure you are, sweetheart."

The next morning came the real breakthrough. Paige got out of bed and headed into our room to start her morning routine of watching The Wiggles with Traci. Traci was on the bed, with Curtis lying next to her. Paige walked up to the side of the bed and happily exclaimed, "Baby Brother!" She got up on the bed and had to hug and kiss him. "Oh, it's Curtis!" She then had to hold him, which she affectionately did with her arms wrapped tightly under his chin, not unlike a sleeper hold.

Since then, she's been pretty good about having him around. She only gets upset when I'm holding him instead of playing with her. We'll see how she does tomorrow when Traci's on her own and Paige can't have someone's full attention.

Welcome to the Club

I guess I am now officially part of the raising-a-boy crew. Curtis gave me an initiatory squirt this afternoon when I attempted to change his diaper. His distance was matched only by his aim.

Little Baby: Day 2

When I got back to the hospital this morning, little Curtis had already had a visit from the snip-snip doctor. I almost fainted when I saw it, but he seemed to be taking it like a champ.

Welcome to the Family

Just 8 1/2 short hours ago, we welcomed little Curtis into our family. He was 7 lbs, 4 oz and 19 inches long with a ton of brown hair.

At about 8:30 this morning Traci said that she didn't think we should go to church because she was having contractions; by 9:30 we had all of our stuff together. We dropped Paige off at my sisters and were on our way to the hospital. By 10:00 Traci was dilated to a 7 and by noon she was ready to start pushing. At 1:24, the little boy formerly known as Max Power made his appearance.

We are very happy that everything went so smoothly (and were incredibly surprised by how quickly) and that Traci didn't have to have another C-Section. Traci is feeling much better than she did after having Paige and Curtis is doing just fine.

This afternoon, Jenny brought Paige to meet her little brother. When she walked in the door, she saw me lift Curtis out of his crib and sit down on the chair. She immediately came over to me and said, "Put him back in the bed, put him back in the bed." It's going to be a rough transition.