Monday, April 25, 2011

Mmm...Montessori giveaway

Montessori philosophy is one of those things that I have heard about, know a little about, and love everything I've heard.  I hope that one day I can dig a bit deeper.  For now, I like to hop around some Montessori-related blogs, including this one.  It has some good ideas that can be incorporated pretty easily into your house.   And right now they are giving away some super-sweet Montessori materials.  So check it out.

"He has your eye shape"

I am always quite skeptical when someone says a newborn looks just like Grandma, has Daddy's nose or is a spitting image of Great-Aunt Edna.  To me, they all look very similar, which is to say, ugly.  Even Elijah, who is clearly the cutest baby ever, managed to look like a troll in some of his first pics.  Big babies like mine have the advantage of not looking exactly like a newly hatched chick in that they've got a little meat on the bones, but that's about it. 

Somewhere around 2 or 3 months, though, something happens.  The little guy or girl starts to look less like Ziggy, Mr. Magoo, or Abe Simpson and more like...somebody.  More like him or herself.  And, if you are me, my sister-in-law Beth or my friend Jenn, more like Dad.  After her second daughter was born, Beth was quick to draw parallel's between her baby pictures and Sydney's, saying, "It's my turn for a Mini-Me."  For me, it has gotten to the point where the only people who ever say Elijah looks like me are either a) obviously lying or b) unaware of what Kurt looks like.   Perhaps the only person who Elijah resembles more that his dad is Grandpa Buddy. 

But, hey, maybe he'll get to look more like me as he ages.  And this way we cut back on the inevitable postman jokes.  Plus, you know, he has my eye shape.  Whatever that means.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

One-man food fight

Feeding a baby is gross. 

 Let's face it. 

And by face it, I mean rub it all over our faces, put it anywhere but inside our mouths, and hope that some nutrition is absorbed through our pores.  At least, that's seems to be Elijah's interpretation of "face it".  As in:

"Elijah, open your mouth so I can spoon some mush into it."
"No, Mom, I'd rather face it."

We have progressed from totally body coverage to mainly face/bib/hand/spoon in the past few weeks, but it's still a messy, messy business, this baby feeding.  Also, somehow this little person, who 7 months ago wasn't even breathing oxygen, has an opinion about food, measured by how many bites he will eat.  Peaches are clearly God's gift to the palate.  Squash rates a few bites, 3 or 4, unless mixed with the blessed peaches.  Green beans are a two-biter, and mango is a one-bite-"what the heck is this"-face-spit-it-all-back-out-kind of dish.  I will say, that particular mango was a little tart, but you'd think he could have said "No, thank you," rather than spraying it all over my shirt.

He is frustrated that I won't let him "feed" himself, evident in his attempts to grab the spoon, bowl, and my sandwich.  Little does he know that if he got what he wanted, he might not be as frustrated, but he would be really hungry.  Then again, I hear mango makes a great topical skin treatment.