tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15391358718567010622024-03-04T15:23:44.574-05:00gus & other thingsabigailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17967437497263900031noreply@blogger.comBlogger1341125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1539135871856701062.post-20362623100536113312015-06-02T08:32:00.002-04:002015-06-02T08:32:35.442-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />abigailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17967437497263900031noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1539135871856701062.post-11914405058602822012015-06-02T05:09:00.000-04:002015-06-02T05:09:00.341-04:00bowls<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />abigailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17967437497263900031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1539135871856701062.post-930094592548867572015-05-11T22:34:00.000-04:002015-05-11T22:34:03.047-04:00Happy Mother's Day<div id="fb-root">
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<blockquote cite="/LastWeekTonight/videos/710854785710200/">
<a href="https://www.blogger.com/LastWeekTonight/videos/710854785710200/">Last Week Tonight with John Oliver: Paid Family Leave (HBO)</a><br />
Many American companies do not offer paid family leave, which means (among other things) they probably shouldn't run sappy Mother’s Day ads.<br />
Posted by <a href="https://www.facebook.com/LastWeekTonight">Last Week Tonight with John Oliver</a> on Monday, May 11, 2015</blockquote>
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abigailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17967437497263900031noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1539135871856701062.post-47007231483939853952015-05-03T17:38:00.001-04:002015-05-03T17:38:52.839-04:00conversation with a 32 month old<br />
All snuggled up on the deck in the cool night air to help with is croup (I hate croup) he started talking. I didn't say much, just the occasional words of agreement.<br />
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"Maybe Sarah will come over soon. Maybe today. Maybe we can go to a store with her. Maybe we can go to the dinosaur museum with her. We can see the mastodon. We can see his toes. We did go see a hawk. We did see an eagle. The eagle was loud. The turkey vulture was having a snack. There's the moon. Goodnight moon. Good night room. Goodnight cow jumping over the moon...." and then he launched into the extended version of "Frere Jacques".<br />
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<br />abigailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17967437497263900031noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1539135871856701062.post-7570501437277954582015-05-03T17:38:00.000-04:002015-05-03T17:38:00.941-04:00My baby is an 80's superstar<br />
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<br />abigailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17967437497263900031noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1539135871856701062.post-58356987633924493892015-02-22T14:08:00.002-05:002015-02-22T14:08:23.704-05:00watermelonI found Ezra licking his Busy Town book the other day.<br />
Me: What are you doing?<br />
Ezra (heartbroken and sighing): This watermelon is pretend.abigailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17967437497263900031noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1539135871856701062.post-59751237820455717542015-02-22T14:06:00.001-05:002015-02-22T14:06:07.451-05:00makes senseEzra calls furniture "furni<u>chair</u>" and it pretty much kills me.abigailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17967437497263900031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1539135871856701062.post-6801338692604509542015-01-23T21:53:00.003-05:002015-01-23T21:53:55.789-05:00yummy, yucky<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Ezra's addition to the book <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Yummy-Yucky-Leslie-Patricelli-board/dp/0763619507">Yummy, Yucky</a>:<br />
"Leaves in a bowl are yummy. Leaves in the grass are yucky."abigailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17967437497263900031noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1539135871856701062.post-57586829066621542122014-12-07T21:14:00.002-05:002015-02-22T14:28:16.931-05:00rooster<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Stevie Wonder makes Ezra think of roosters. Every time we hear a Stevie Wonder song he asks to see a rooster.<br />
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I have no idea.abigailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17967437497263900031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1539135871856701062.post-2482395004149071182014-12-07T21:07:00.001-05:002014-12-07T21:07:23.470-05:00Weight lifting"Carry me, lazy bones. What? Are your legs broken?" Ezra<br />
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oops.abigailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17967437497263900031noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1539135871856701062.post-73399346378592347042014-12-01T20:26:00.002-05:002014-12-01T20:26:19.426-05:00Where's that baby? <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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He used to just put his hands over his eyes...abigailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17967437497263900031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1539135871856701062.post-88461407982948812742014-12-01T20:21:00.001-05:002014-12-01T20:26:59.944-05:00Conversation with a 28 month old<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Me to Ezra: "You have to hold somebody's hand when you cross the road."<br />
Ezra to me: "Holding Ezra's hand!"abigailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17967437497263900031noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1539135871856701062.post-25438152000030795782014-10-22T20:27:00.000-04:002014-10-22T20:27:00.410-04:00good tip<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0EjXAELWJ7s/VEhLNhkesqI/AAAAAAAAHWc/fW-f8O9xH5I/s1600/1937-Wheat-Penny-Front-Back.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0EjXAELWJ7s/VEhLNhkesqI/AAAAAAAAHWc/fW-f8O9xH5I/s1600/1937-Wheat-Penny-Front-Back.jpg" height="308" width="640" /></a></div>
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Ezra handed a penny to his babysitter and said, "It's money. You can't stick it in your nose."abigailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17967437497263900031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1539135871856701062.post-23336414700477617732014-10-17T12:59:00.001-04:002014-10-17T12:59:36.711-04:00Double QEzra was playing with his alphabet blocks, mostly building towers and knocking them down, he held up one and said, "It's a W!" Then he held up another and said, "It's a double Q!"<br />
<br />abigailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17967437497263900031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1539135871856701062.post-84920054523962431442014-09-23T12:58:00.003-04:002014-09-23T12:58:54.887-04:00conversation with a 24 month old's doctorEvery time we go in for a check up Ezra's doctor she and I reminisce about how tiny he was when he was born, and how freaked out I was. And then, after a minute of talking about how tiny he was, she tells me how great he is doing. (Needless to say, I really like his doctor.)<br />
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At his 2 year check up he was in the 99th percentile for length and 75 for weight with a giant head. And this is a baby who wasn't even on the baby growth chart when he was born! (except his giant head. He looked like a lollipop.)<br />
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The doctor asked the routine questions, "does he eat his vegetables?" yes. "does he brush his teeth?" yes. "How is he sleeping?" pretty well, most of the time. Etc, etc. <br />
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And then she asked: "Does he go to school?"<br />
Me: "Not yet."<br />
Dr: "That's good. He'd just make all the other kids look bad."<br />
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Love that doctor.abigailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17967437497263900031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1539135871856701062.post-59568868923128639572014-09-23T12:55:00.003-04:002014-09-23T12:55:31.460-04:00Summing up what it is to be twoEzra: "I want to do it all by myself with you."abigailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17967437497263900031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1539135871856701062.post-26983976895657088332014-09-03T07:31:00.002-04:002014-09-03T07:31:59.610-04:003 things I want to rememberThe way you crinkle your nose when you really laugh.<br />
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The way you say, "Make a painting!" and spread things around when you spill something on the table.<br />
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The way you say, "Mmmm mmm!" and shake your head with happiness when you put a piece or roasted eggplant in your mouth.abigailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17967437497263900031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1539135871856701062.post-21797931145648777492014-08-05T20:43:00.000-04:002014-08-05T20:43:42.250-04:002<div class="p1">
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Much to my astonishment, you turned 2. You're looking more like a little boy every single day, and less like a baby. I can’t believe how much you’ve grown, and all the things you’ve learned to do this past year. </div>
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You made your first two word “sentence” ("cat go!”) about a month before you took your first steps (12 and 13 months respectively). And you haven’t stopped talking or running since. </div>
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You learned to walk up and down a step without holding on to anything, draw a circle, stack a bunch of blocks, kick a ball, and climb on the furniture without help (thank you developmental checklist sent by the doctor).<br />
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You love motorcycles, trucks, flowers, dogs, babies and kids. And pretty much everything else too except loud noises. (Somehow you don't mind loud noises made by motorcycles.) You have an ever increasing menagerie of stuffed animals in your crib and have also started sleeping with a 35 year old fisher price motorcycle.</div>
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But Pony is still the one buddy you can’t live without. <br />
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You went to France last summer and to Italy this spring, and you loved both. I think Italy might be a slight favorite because people kept sticking chocolate in your pockets everywhere we went. And because you got to sit on a tractor, feed chickens pasta, and a cat prosciutto.<br />
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You ask to “make a painting”, I love that you put it that way. It makes me so happy when you come to visit me in the studio and "play with playdough". You've got snake and ball making pretty much down, and I think you'll be making pinch pots in no time.<br />
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I love that when you say things like "I want to sit with me" "I want to see me" you mean that you want me, your mommy. Other people get called "you" or by their names, but I always get the first person pronoun. I kind of like that you're not so sure you and I are separate people yet, because I'm not so sure either. (I read somewhere that figuring that out is what being 2 is all about. Good luck to us both!)<br />
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You've been having a hard time with me leaving lately, and most days I'd rather stay home with you too.<br />
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You know lots of flowers by name: magnolias, sweet peas, echinacea, daffodils, poppies, hydrangea, roses, peonies and more. But I'm pretty sure dandelions are your favorite because I let you pick and destroy them.<br />
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You are a great gardener! Very efficient at harvesting berries, tomatoes and cucumbers. You are not so good at putting the stuff you pick in the bucket, but you're very good at stuffing it in your mouth and eating it. </div>
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You are obsessed with letters and books. Your current favorite books are <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/blueberries-for-sal-robert-mccloskey/1100222924?ean=9780140501698">Blueberries for Sal</a>, <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/press-here-herve-tullet/1100192750?ean=9780811879545">Press Here</a>,<a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/found-salina-yoon/1115438155?ean=9780802735591"> Found</a>, and <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/iggy-peck-architect-andrea-beaty/1103278969?ean=9780810911062">Iggy Peck Architect</a>. (when we went blueberry picking you said, "Just like Sal! Kerplink, Kerplank, Kerplunk!" About 100 times.)<br />
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You love to eat! I can't think of anything you really don't like, except really spicy food.You are currently obsessed with salmon, pickles, paella, and mango popsicles (not together, though it wouldn't surprise me). At your request we had porcini risotto and blueberry pie for your birthday dinner. </div>
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You always ask for 11 blueberries and 2 pieces of chocolate. You know if I try and cheat with the berries, but I can still get away with breaking the chocolate in half and giving it back to you. I probably won't get away with that much longer and you still haven't forgiven me for telling you that jelly beans (pronounced jelly jeans) are just for Easter. </div>
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You love music, the Beatles, Elizabeth Mitchell, and the Afro Cuban All Stars most of all. You don't usually call songs by their title so it's sometimes hard to figure out what you're asking for, but I think we've got most of them down. </div>
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And you sing! Almost on key.<br />
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Gramma Becky got you a motorcycle for your birthday and you've woken up asking to go ride it on the sidewalk every day since.<br />
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You are a fish! You are so confident in the water it kind of freaks me out. You like to float, don't mind sticking your face in and blowing bubbles, and the other day you even pulled yourself up out of the pool all by yourself! </div>
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You are so curious, always asking questions and making associations and I love nothing more than listening to the things you have to say.<br />
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You give the best hugs and always ask for "nother one". You laugh so easily and often and when you really get going you have a tiny little snort!</div>
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Happiest of Birthdays to you my dearest darling boy, I love you so much I might explode. </div>
abigailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17967437497263900031noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1539135871856701062.post-69688097629254429082014-07-31T21:53:00.001-04:002014-07-31T21:53:11.671-04:00eagle lips?<br />
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We went to the visit a bird sanctuary the other day to see the owls, hawks, falcons and eagles.<br />
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When the eagle squawked Ezra said, "He's licking his lips."<br />
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I have no idea.abigailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17967437497263900031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1539135871856701062.post-15425631820960850832014-07-27T22:33:00.000-04:002014-07-27T22:41:44.601-04:00Parenting tip<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="480" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/g266Uwp6ZnI" width="640"></iframe><br />
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If you'd rather not listen to "The Motorcycle Song" 24 times in a row, do not let your 1 year 360 day old son know it exists.abigailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17967437497263900031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1539135871856701062.post-56343269442165701802014-07-27T13:47:00.002-04:002014-07-27T13:47:12.373-04:00good ear<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="480" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/gRtAO-nffz0" width="640"></iframe>
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Ezra sat down at a piano for the first time a couple days ago and after a few minutes of playing he said, "It's just like the Beatles!"<br />
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The next day I was fiddling around trying to figure out how to play "Happy Birthday" and even though I only got the first 6 notes he said, "It's like Happy Birthday!"<br />
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<br />abigailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17967437497263900031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1539135871856701062.post-92029368537401024382014-07-23T21:14:00.000-04:002014-07-23T21:14:16.252-04:00Conversation with a 23 month old #4While riding on my bicycle past a parking lot:<br />
Ezra: It's a car yard.<br />
Me: What?<br />
Ezra: It's a car yard!abigailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17967437497263900031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1539135871856701062.post-53216337161137681632014-07-22T00:13:00.001-04:002014-07-22T00:13:06.409-04:00conversation with a 23 month old #3 While washing his hands in the kitchen sink:<br />
Ezra: It's like the ocean!<br />
Me: What's like the ocean?<br />
Ezra: That's just like the ocean!<br />
I figured out he was talking about the blue baking dish that was filled with soapy water.<br />
Me: It does look like the ocean.<br />
<br />abigailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17967437497263900031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1539135871856701062.post-53045671643995833562014-07-19T23:33:00.001-04:002014-07-19T23:35:17.360-04:00freight train<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="480" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/VpP8SEh6GxM" width="853"></iframe>
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I told Ezra we were going to go visit <a href="http://molassescandy.blogspot.com/">Chiara </a>in Brooklyn and he wanted to talk about it.<br />
Ezra: What are we gonna do in Brooklyn?<br />
Me: We'll see Chiara in Brooklyn.<br />
Ezra: And Jackson in Brooklyn.<br />
Me: Yup.<br />
Ezra: And Cade in Brooklyn.<br />
Me: Yes!<br />
Ezra: And Jon in Brooklyn.<br />
Me: Aren't you excited? What else do you want to see in Brooklyn?<br />
Ezra: Wanna see.... ahhh.... ummmm..... Freight train?<br />
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(we listen to that song a LOT.)abigailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17967437497263900031noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1539135871856701062.post-33846365882298992642014-07-16T00:49:00.002-04:002014-07-16T00:49:56.289-04:00RosieWhen Ezra is sad, bored or mad, I ask him if he wants to talk about something. We talk about the farm we visited in Tivoli, the puppy he got to pet in the park, and lots of other things. He often wants to talk about the conservatory we went to 3 times a week this past winter so we chat about it for awhile.<div>
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Me: What do we do at the conservatory?</div>
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Ezra: We sniff the flowers at the conservatory!</div>
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Me: What else do we see at the conservatory?</div>
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Ezra: Goldfish!</div>
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Me: What else?</div>
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Ezra: Waterfall. </div>
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Me: What does the waterfall do?</div>
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Ezra: The water goes all the way down! </div>
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Me: It does. </div>
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Ezra: I don't like it because it's loud. </div>
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We talk about the toilets and the fans(they're loud too, he doesn't like them), the cactuses (they're sharp, can hurt your fingers, need the rocks to grow), and the grapefruit, jasmine and bay laurel (all get sniffed) but every once in a while Ezra will talk about Rosie, a little girl he met and shared some cookies with last October. He hasn't seen her since, but he still talks about her and gets a little moony eyed when he does. </div>
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I'm half convinced I'll tell this story at Ezra and Rosie's wedding one day. </div>
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abigailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17967437497263900031noreply@blogger.com0