Sunday, June 30, 2013

Boy number 2

I've been trying hard not to call Baby Plum the middle. I read a book on birth order, and the impression I got was that middles always feel cheated and squeezed. I don't want him to feel that way. But what to call him? At this point, I doubt he cares, but I hate to get into a habit that later upsets him. Little Elvis is the oldest. Cheese Puff is the baby. At this point, I'm saying, "Little Elvis is my 6-year-old, Baby Plum is my 3-year-old, and Cheese Puff is my 1-year-old." This evening, I was trying to get them to go inside for bed. I ended up saying, "Boy Number 1!" to Little Elvis. And Baby Plum yelled, "I'm Boy Number 2!!" Maybe I'll do that for now.
Here Boy Number 2 drew on his face with a pen. See the lines? I think Little Elvis took this picture.
I made lasagna last week. I do not like making lasagna. So much work! Why did I make it? Because Baby Plum loves cottage cheese. For a while, he would happily eat from a 3 pound tub (yeah, he would eat from that thing all by himself.) But then he decided the Sam's economy priced cottage cheese was not tasty. He likes Kroger's brand better. We found some Brookstone on sale, and tried that. He was NOT a fan. So, I had a big tub of cottage cheese to use up. I use it instead of ricotta, because it's cheaper. I slaved in the Mississippi heat to make it. All three boys did end up eating some if it, but the oldest two had to be coerced. I took a picture of Baby Plum while he ate to encourage him to continue eating.
He's not really into his Cookie Monster shirts anymore. I laid this one out for him. He much prefers a hand-me-down shirt from a boy at church. It's purple, and has the name of that boys' school on it. Baby Plum doesn't go to that school, but that doesn't matter. He likes that shirt. He dresses himself most days. He likes to pick out his own clothes. And he likes to dress himself with his undies on backwards, his shorts usually on backwards and his shoes on the wrong feet. It's intentional. I'm not sure what his message is, but I try to just let him do it.
Poor baby passed out the other day. He's been trying to keep up with Little Elvis who doesn't need naps. If Little Elvis doesn't go down for a nap, then neither will Baby Plum. And they stay up late at night playing and bickering in their room. He just can't keep up with Little Elvis. He napped for a long time that afternoon. We've been taking one step forward, and two steps backwards with the thumb-sucking. I think it's tied into his sleepiness. If he's tired, he's much more likely to suck his thumb. He's also much crankier.

Baby Plum is our most laid back child. He is. Not much bothers him. Except when it comes to Little Elvis. If Little Elvis runs ahead, then Baby Plum stops and screams for Little Elvis to stop. He doesn't run to catch up. He just makes what I call his "Robert DeNiro" face and cries.

We were playing with friends at the mall last week. The little girl we were playing with is Baby Plum's age. And she loves babies. She wants to pet Cheese Puff. Cheese Puff does not like being petted. He doesn't like  other people getting up in his grill. She needed to pet a head, though. So I told her to pet Baby Plum's head, because he wouldn't care. He didn't. He just put his head in her direction.

It's fun listening to Baby Plum express ideas and thoughts now. He was playing with Woody the other day, saying, "Don't say cowabunga, Woody!" He picked up that phrase from Little Elvis. Who learned it at theater camp. They did a Rock-n-Roll theme, and Little Elvis' line was in the part about the Beach Boys. He had to speak surfer words. We think cowabunga was one of those words.

We love that he's talking so much now. He will sometimes say, "Yeppy-yep" for yes, and "Nopey-nope" for no. And instead of nothing, he says, "No thing."


Blogger Ann Wyse said...

Your comments on birth order are really timely, because I'm bemoaning M's lack of attention a lot lately. At the same time, sometimes I think he has the best of both worlds and without all the special attention, he'll probably grow up to be the best adjusted of our three. Or not.

I'm so sorry about the lasagna: I would happily eat it and tell you it was great! Yeppy-yep! ;-) Cooking can be surprisingly unfun with picky kids.

6:08 PM  
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