Tales of the Jonah-nah

Assorted Miscellany

Thu, 15 Dec 2005 16:29:47 GMT

Time to catch up on some cute stories:

The Big Mack Daddy
Last week, a new girl was transitioned into the Toddler room. She was playing at the little kitchen activity dealie and Jonah walked over to her, casually leaned against the stove and started jibber jabbering at her. What a flirt! I was, like, 25 before I could approach chicks that casually. Geez.

Pasta Pasta!
We were sitting on the couch watching the all-important “beebee moo-we” (that’s the baby sign language movie) when Jonah suddenly points out the porch door and proclaims: “Pasta!”

We looked out on the porch and couldn’t see any pasta, or even anything that looked like pasta, so we asked him where he saw pasta. He gave a little sigh and walked over to his little picnic table and pointed to the book that was laying on it – the letters in the title were fat, chunky, and tan. They looked like pasta.

Potty Mouth
Most nights, after dinner, Jonah will decide that he has to “peepee poh’y”. So we’ll go in, take all his clothes off and sit him down on the potty we got him. Apparently, he has decided that the entire purpose of going peepee on the potty is to pull of every single piece of toilet paper, one by one, stuff it into the potty, and flush it down waving “bye” to it. And, then, after washing his hands, he clearly feels the need to Strut His Stuff, and usually escapes before we can re-apply his diaper. Generally, he decides this is the optimum time to jump up onto the rocking chair, stand on it facing the back, and start rocking back and forth so violently that Tara thinks he’s going to catapult himself into the kitchen.

And, of course, he feels this is the most hilarious thing that anyone has ever done, anywhere.

I’m so proud!

Language
I knew that this was supposed to happen, but it still surprises me. It seems like every day, Jonah learns more words, and uses them with more confidence. He’s still primarily obsessed with wawa (water), b’loony (balloons), ngga (light), and moooooonuh (moon) – and he sees these things everywhere. I’m still amazed when he points to me and proclaims: Mooonuh! because my t-shirt has a poorly drawn moon on it. He recognizes drawings of water as water.

But even beyond the Four Foundations of Jonah’s World, he is picking up so many words: animals, actions, things.

On the Baby Signs video, there’s a kid in a soap box derby racer shaped like a car. When Jonah saw that, he shouting “Wok!”. We pointed out that the kid was actually driving a car. Jonah shook his head, pointed at the screen and shouted “Heet!” We looked at the screen more carefully, and sure enough you could see the kid’s feet under the car – he was using them to walk when the hill wasn’t steep enough. “Walk! Feet!”

He can tell us what he’s seeing and thinking and we can usually figure it out! This is freaking me out. He’s going to be able to tell us more subtle things, like his mood. He’s going to be talking in complete sentences some day.

Jeezaloo! I’d better start cutting down on the casual swearing around him!

Rock Em Sock Em Toddlers!

Mon, 12 Dec 2005 13:34:03 GMT

We went over to Tara's folks' house yeterday. Tara's sister and family were there with Jonah's cousins: Emilie (5), and Nick (a couple months younger than Jonah - maybe 19 months?) The boys were crahsing around and chasing each other. Suddenly I heard an earth shattering kabooom! and Nick started crying. (Quick tangent - I'm still amazed that I can tell if it's my kid crying, and the fact that other kids crying in the agonies of a death throe don't bother me as much as Jonah's most minor "I'm most put out" cry.)

Emilie declared that Jonah did willfully, and with malice aforethought, shove Nick into a table. I'm not convinced that it was entirely malevolent, but I thought it was a good time to see if Jonah has any empathy. So I sat him down and had a little talk with him. Nick was still wailing like the Yakuza has just cut off his pinky finger, so I asked Jonah: "Do you hear Nick crying?" Jonah nodded his head.

"Does he have a booboo?" Nod.
"Do you push him?" Nod.
"Booboos hurt, don't they?" Nod.
"Do you like when you get a booboo?" Shakes head.
"Are you sorry that Nick got a booboo?" Nod.
"OK, let's go tell Nick you're sorry."
(This is somewhat condensed - I cut out the parts where Emilie kept interrupting to tell Jonah that he really hurt Nick's feelings, and, Uncle Shawn, you have to tell him about feelings, and Jonah do you know you hurt Nick's feelings?)

So went into the other room where Nick was *still* crying, and Jonah walked up to him and (with a little prompting) said "sowwy" and then we sat down on a chair nearby. After a few minutes, Nick stopped crying, and Tara's mom put on the couch and left the room. Nick got down, and Jonah jumped off my lap, walked over to Nick and gave him a big full-body hug, which Nick returned. They held that for a full 60 seconds and then moved on with their lives. I must've had something caught in my eye because I started to tear up a little. Or maybe 2 years of fatherhood have turned me into a World Class Sap.

In any case, it was the sweetest thing I've seen in a long time.

We make holes in gums!

Mon, 12 Dec 2005 13:20:55 GMT

OK, so the previous few nights of uninterrupted sleep were just a pipe dream. The last week has been hateful. UGh. Multiple night in the last week, Jonah has woken up in the wee hours of the monring and could not be put back into his bed for hours. And, of course, our No More Nighttime Nursing offensive has turned around and bit me in the ass - he won't let Tara rock him, it has to be "dada dada!". So, I've been regularly staying up for 3 hours rocking him in the middle of the night. It has alllowed me to renew my acquaintance with an old fried: Crappy Infomercial TV.

But, we did ascertain the reason for these nighttime nutties. Wednesday night, I was rocking Jonah to sleep and he had his entire fist jammed in his mouth. I asked him "Jonah, what's wrong with your mouth?" and he replied, very clearly: "Huwt!" So I checked to see what he was digging for (oil? Nazi gold?). He's got two gigantic molars erupting out of his tender little gums. Each one of them is about 2/3 the size of his head. And it feels like a third one is cubbling up from the bottom. He's only got 8 teeth now, and it's been months since the last one made its appearance, so he probably doesn't remember the last one. So it's no wonder the little guy's got trouble sleeping - even when we dope him up with Motrin, Tylenol, and vodka.

There are some plusses: my ego does swell from the fact that he wakes up, jumps on the rocker in his room and starts yelling "dada dada!" until I come out and rock him. Tara just will not do. That does give me a nice warm feelign in my stomach.

But so does grain alcohol, and I don't feel so bad the next day.

Sleep update

Mon, 05 Dec 2005 13:24:52 GMT

Friuday night was a bitch. Jonah went to sleep pretty well. But he woke up at midnight and apparently the Bed Bugs electrifed his bed because he simply would not let me put him back in bed. I rocked him until he was asleep and as I put him to bed - "nuh-NO!". *sigh* We repeated that delightful dance about 4 times, until he started saying "mama!" and "nuuuuhse". So, I woke up the big guns, hoping that Tara could rock him back to sleep.

Nope, ten minutes later, he's standing next to my bed: "wock! Wock!". So, I got up, took him into the living room and rocked him, while watching TV. Until 3:30 in the freaking morning. Yeesh!

On the plus side, I did get to see an Episode of Family Guy, and most of the forgotten classic con/poker movie Maverick.

On the negative side: 3:30! And furthermore, I couldn't get to sleep at that point. And when I finally did, I slept for about 30 minutes before he woke up again. Where are those gypsies when you really need them?

Eventually he did actually fall asleep again and I did actually get some more sleep.

Now, keep in mind that this happened after 4 nights of pretty solid sleep. And he slept the entire night Saturday and Sunday night. Even better - he didn't get a nap yesterday, so we knew it was going to be a bad night. He fell asleep on the drive home from Tara's parents' house, around 6:15. When I got him out of the car, he barely even twitched. So, I rocked him a few minutes (just to make sure), and put him in bed. We figured he'd wake up between 8 and 9, and probably a few more times during the night - when his sleep is that disrupted, he generally sleeps poorly.

Goes to show what we know - he didn't make a peep until 5 in the morning. Wow. I could get used to that.

Oh, and on a separate tangent. Jonah is clearly a man of refined tastes and artisitc temperment. Saturday morning, he woke me up by walking into the room, standing right next to me, holding up a DVD he'd somehow managed to pull out of its case, and exclaiming: "Homuh! Moo-wee!" [Translation: Homer! Movie!]. He loves the Simpsons. Especially Homer, in whom he clearly sees as a resemblance to his own father.

*choke* That's my boy!

The power of Envy

Mon, 05 Dec 2005 13:09:42 GMT

For a long time now, it's been clear to us that Jonah is powerfully motivated by a desire to do whatever it is other people are doing. He started eating solids very early on, simply because he refused to lety us feed him anymore - he wanted to use utensils like we were doing. He won't sit in a high chair or booster seat because he wants to sit on a big chair like we do.

A few months ago he started to ask where Tara and I were if we weren't in the room. So, he and I would be sitting on the couch watching his Baby Signs video and he'd suddenly start looking around: "Mama? Mama?". And I would tell him: "Mama's sleeping", or "Mama's going peepee on the potty", or "Mama's gone to see how much the gypsies will pay for you". After while, he started to realize that "peepee in the potty" is what we are doing when we go into that secret room that we don't let him into (except for tubby time).

The bathroom door, by the way, doesn't latch properly most of the time. And, since we rent in a complex that has been converted to condos, and they would really like us to move out so they can sell it for a ridiculous amount of money, it'll probably stay broken until we move out.

You see where this is all going, right? About two weeks ago, Jonah decided to investigate and find out what this "peepee in the potty" stuff was really all about. So, when one of us went into the bathroom, he'd wait for his chance. As soon as Tara's back was turned - BAM! - he'd explode through the door with enough force to qualify as a tropical storm. We decided that, rather than shrieking "Don't look at me!!!" and teach him that he's a dirty filthy little boy, we'd instead satisfy his curiosity and talk him through what was going on. You,know, explain to him what's going on, have him close the lid, let him help flush, and then let him wash his hands.

Needless to say, he loved it. Which is great - I love how curious he is. But it has it's downsides - it used to be that the Irish Reading Room was the one place I could be assured of a few minutes of privacy. No longer!

We went to Tara's parent's house yesterday, to visit and do laundry. At one point, I was sitting at the dining rtable doing an evil newspaper Sudoku, while Tara was drooling over the Sales flyers, when we hear Jonah chanting "Potty! Potty! Potty!". He led Tara's mom into the bathroom because he wanted to use the potty! She took him in, took off his diapers, and sat him on the toilet. He sat there and really concentrated. He knew that he was supposed to do something. I don't think he actually did anything, but hell - he wanted to use to potty! I'm still in shock.

Potty training is the thing I've been most terrified of. How the hell do you teach someone when to go to the bathroom? How do you not turn potty training into a constant battle for supremacy? Well, apparently, you simply have to make sure the kid is driven by envy.

With any luck, he'll potty train himself, and maybe even the zimmersibling...

Jonahstone National Park

Thu, 01 Dec 2005 14:54:35 GMT

Apparently, being born in a jacuzzi altered Jonah's genetic structure such that he needs to play in water to live.

Last night, my parents called to go over last minute Emergency Christmas List Stuff (plus my dad needed to suggest the next baby be named Victor Warren Xavier Yorick Zimmerman, but I won't dignify that with a mention). Naturally, at this critical juncture, when I needed to be in the living room writing down lengthy lists, Jonah moved the step stool over to the sink (full of dirty dishes) and started yelling "wawa! wawa! Mine!.

Taking the path of least resistance, I pulled everything out of the sink and turned the water on, just a little. He happily splashed around while I did a little TCB (Takin Care of Business). When Tara came home 10 minutes later, we were both somewhat surprised to find that Jonah had turned the kitchen into a Water Park. I believe he intends to charge admission of $10.

He had grabbed one of our Lexan water bottles that was on the counter and would fill it about halfway up and then SLAM it down into the sink, causing a geyser of sudsy water to shoot ten to twenty feet in the air. He then would gurgle delightedly and do it again. I estimate he used approximately 5,000 gallons of water, and about 1/2 of that ended up on the floor, dripping down the cabinets, or soaking the ceiling.

Eventually, we had to lure him away from the sink with promises of soup and a post-dinner tubby time.

And, somehow, against all laws of physics, he managed to get more soup on him than water.

Enter Sandman!

Thu, 01 Dec 2005 14:17:06 GMT

Quick sleep update since last post. Tuesday night, Jonah pretty much slept the whole night through, again. There was one brief bobble, but that was my fault. When I ducked my head into his room at 10 to check on him, I noticed that his sleep position was not entirely condusive to a full night's sleep. He was face down, with his legs dangling off the bed.

History shows that this is not a tenable position for a young toddler to sleep in. And it isn't the oddest position I've found him in. Saturday night, I'd checked on him - he was sitting on the floor with his head resting on the bed, using one arm for a pillow, and the other pointing away from his head. I decided to leave him be, and less than 15 mintues later - as soon as I'd settled in for a long winter's nap - he woke up straddling one of the post on the bookshelf next to his bed.

So, Tuesday, I decided I'd better try to shift his legs b ack on the bed so he didn't wake up somewhere in Charlton. Naturally, this act of gentle kindness irritated him so much that he woke up. But he was back asleep within 5 minutes, so it doesn't *really* count against the Full Night Sleep Tally (which currently stands at 4)(that 3 more than the previous record).

AH! Cobras!

Tue, 29 Nov 2005 13:08:29 GMT

Sunday night, Jonah went to sleep really quickly. I only rocked him for 1 1/2 cycles of the tadpole before he was out.

(Leap Frog makes a stuffed frog called Tad. If you push his left hand, it'll play a nursery rhyme. His right hand, however, is much more magical - every time you push it, he plays another minute of lullaby. But it only goes up to six minutes. So it makes a very convenient timer to gauge how long I've been stuck in the sensory deprivation chamber, aka Jonah's room.)

About 40 minutes after Jonah went to sleep (just as the Simpsons were starting), he wakes up and starts crying. No biggy, I went in to pick him up and rock him back to sleep. But then, as we were rocking, he started shrieking, like he was in pain. I picked him up and looked at him and there wasn't anything obviously wrong with him. So, I held him and walked around the apartment singing to him. After a minute, he calmed down.

Usually, in this kind of situation, I can sit on the rocking chair and watch TV while I rock him back to sleep. Not this night. Pretty much as soon as my butt hit the chair, he started shrieking again. It was horrible. He was sobbing and howling like someone was punching him in the gut. In desperation, we gave him the option to nurse - he wouldn't even calm down enough to do that. It was truly awful.

We didn't know what to do, so I just walked around, holding him and singing. When he'd calm down for a few minutes, I'd sit and rock. He'd seem like he was falling back to sleep, but after a few minutes, he'd rutch around and start screamin again.

After about 30 minutes of this torture, he finally seemed to calm down. I rocked him in his room for another 10 minutes and put him to bed.

You know what, though? He didn't wake up at all that night. He slept straight through until 5:30 in the morning. I don't think he's ever slept that long without waking up. And last night, he did it again (though without the screaming, thank god) - he went to sleep around 8, and didn't wake up until 5:30.

We figure the screaming must have been either from a nightmare or maybe even night terrors - he really didn't seem to be awake.

Now that I think about it, Jonah always seems to have a really really bad night or two just before he makes a developmental leap of some kind. Maybe that episode was just his head cleaning house before being ready to sleep all night. That would be marvelous.

And so would winning the lottery. I guess we'll just have to wait and see....