Fish

Henry is really interested in fish and fishing.  (Another aspect of his primal caveman self, I guess.)  Michael and I went out to a fancy restaurant a couple of days ago (for work), and I had a whole fish, head included, on my plate for my entree.  I felt like I used to feel when I saw a backhoe and Henry wasn't with me: what a waste!  No one else at that table appreciated that fish as much as Henry would have.  Last summer we were driving and Henry saw a man fishing off a bridge.  "What's that guy doing, Mom?" He was immediately fascinated, and we explained fishing to him.  I have promised him that we will go fishing this summer, even though neither Michael nor I am much expert at it.  

Today I got a piece of salmon for our dinner, and Henry was quite intrigued, although he was disappointed that it wasn't a whole fish.  He wanted to know where on the fish the piece came from (Michael drew him a picture), where the fish itself came from (Scotland), and how it was caught.  I was trying to explain that this fish was farmed, and I used the word "harvested" to avoid saying "killed."  He asked me, "you mean cut and ground up, like a harvester harvests a field?"  (Being from Lancaster County, he knows all about combine harvesters.)  He doesn't shy away from the death involved in eating creatures.  He did comment on how the fish didn't want to be caught, and we talked about that.  I'm quite curious to see how he would react if we really caught a fish and cleaned it and ate it.  

And then we all devoured the fish-- including Agatha.

Cape Guy

Coming home from school: "Mom, we were playing Fire Rock today on the playground." "Fire Rock?  How do you play that?"  "It's a shooting game." [insert here my sermon against playing at violence.] "Who were you playing with?" [I asked because I am trying to figure out who is responsible for all this shooting business!]  "Just my friends, who I usually play with. [said in a fierce voice:] Fire Rock is a Cape Guy, Mama!"  "A Cape Guy?  You mean a guy who wears a cape?"  "Yes."  A few moments later, said in a sweet three-year-old voice: "Mom, what's a cape?"

So Michael showed him what a cape was.  Unfortunately, in that picture Henry is shooting Michael with a "shooter" (he doesn't yet know, or at least utter, the word "gun") made out of legos.  His fascination with superheroes and shooting is massive, deep, and ongoing.  I am helpless against it.  The only thing that I console myself with is that every time I say that we don't play at violence, that violence hurts people, and that there is no pretending to shoot at people, I am at least communicating our values to him, which will hopefully sink in as he matures.  

So Big

Arms raised

Agatha has learned a new trick-- she raises both arms above her head.  This seems to mean both "pick me up!" and "so big!"  

I know every baby can do this eventually, but it's still super-cute when it's YOUR baby!

My newest theory

Being the parent of a newborn requires a lot of theorizing.  The baby can't tell you what's on her mind or bothering her body, so you've got to be a scientist: observing, collecting data, looking for patterns, coming up with a hypothesis, testing it, coming up with a working theory.  When Agatha started waking up more often at night a few weeks ago (after we'd gotten to nearly sleeping through the night) and getting more fussy and impatient during the day, my theory was "teething"-- which is the default theory for nearly all new parents to explain nearly everything!  It seemed to fit my data, and occasionally seemed to be confirmed by testing things like, did Tylenol help.  But no teeth have appeared, and my favorite sleep scientist writes that teething does not cause night waking (unlike ear infections, psoriasis, and few other things).  My new theory is: she's simply growing.  She's getting more interested in the world and more aware of the connections between her actions and things that happen in the world.  She can't move herself yet, but she's more impatient with sitting in one spot and want us to move her around to see the world (hence her increased fussiness at times during the day-- at least compared to the serene girl who would happily play on her own or watch you from her bouncy seat).  And she realizes that if she fusses at night, we will come in and attend to her. 

All this is wonderful, of course.  And it helps to have a theory to explain it!   

Foodie

Today is Wednesday, and our normal Wednesday routine is: Henry goes off to school in the car with our wonderful neighbors at 8:15 am.  (We used to walk him in the stroller and leave the stroller at school for pick-up.  But now H loves to ride with the big boys and insists on it every day.  Luckily they are all sweet and accommodating!)  I go into the office for office hours, and then pick up Henry at school at 11:25.  Michael and Aggie have time together at home.  When we get home around 11:45 am, Michael goes into work and I stay home with both kids in the afternoon.  Michael gets home around 4:30, and then our very early dinner-bedtime crunch ensues, with everyone small in bed and asleep by 7 pm (Aggie at 6; Henry varies depending on how tired he is).  

So anyway, today I was holding Agatha, eating my lunch of pasta pesto, and talking with Henry.  Aggie grabbed a noodle off my plate and got very quiet and absorbed.  I put her in her highchair and put a few noodles on her tray.  She ended up devouring maybe 6-8 pasta noodles covered with pesto.  Just like Henry at this age, she really seems to love strong flavors and textures.  Yummy, and keeps your skin moisturized! 

Sitting Pretty

For some time, Aggie has enjoyed sitting in her bathtub and playing with toys (at least the tub is getting some use--we're certainly not bathing her much, due to her intense dislike of it).  But now she loves sitting up on her own.  She's become very stable the last couple of days, and is especially happy when she can mess with Henry's toys.