Lock Out

I was thinking this morning of a funny story I never shared here. It happened just about a year ago, in one of the first few weeks after Elliott was born. I was on my own – Keith was back to work, my mom had gone home, it was just the boys and I. The stars were aligning and Elliott was fed and sleepy as Colter's nap time approached. I left Colter downstairs to finish his afternoon cartoon as I took Elliott up, changed him and swaddled him, and laid him down to nap.

I retrieved Colter from downstairs when his cartoon ended and took him up to use the potty. In the upheaval of Elliott's arrival, Colter decided the potty was going to be our biggest battleground. After a bit of whining and pleading (probably on both our parts), I decided to just close the door and let him take care of his business. When the door is latched, the knob is stiff enough that he couldn't turn it at the time. I went downstairs to wait him out for a bit.

Less than ten minutes later, I returned to see how he was making out. I turned the knob and pushed, only to find I couldn't open the door. I tried again and again but obviously that didn't change anything. The door was locked.

You see, in our 90-plus-year-old house, the doors each have a skeleton key for locking them. Most of the keys hang on a nail in each doorframe, but we had always left the bathroom one in the lock for convenience. Colter, in his grumping about, had managed to turn the key and lock me out of the bathroom. And lock himself in.

As I took a few deep breaths and peered under the door at Colter's toes, I was not yet panicking. If he could lock it, certainly he could unlock it. Right? I convinced him to give it a try, but those little two-year-old fingers just couldn't manage to get that tight lock unlocked. He got a little upset at first, but soon found plenty to explore in the cabinet under the sink.

Meanwhile, I was thinking up all manner of things to open the door.

If I put a key in from the other side, could I manage to open it? Nope, the key on the inside was in the way. No surprise there.

Was there a way to get in the window? Well, even if I got the ladder all the way up there, the window was locked and the storm window was down. That's out.

How about the hinges? Nope. They were on the inside of the door.

Ok, I'll take the knob and plate off and see what I can do. I went down to the work bench in the basement to gather tools: screwdrivers, Allen wrenches, picks, whatever I thought might be helpful.

In the midst of all this, I was still asking Colter to keep trying to unlock the door. I also slid a spoon under, instructing him to put the handle of it through the loop of the key, hoping he could gain a little leverage to turn it. I promised a cookie if he opened the door. He did what I asked, but still couldn't get it unlocked.

Oh, and at one point I heard him chewing and frantically asked, "What are you eating?!? Take it out of your mouth!" Visions of calling 911 and firemen chopping down the solid wood door crossed my mind. Finally, he slid the cap of a little sample tube of lotion for Elliott under the door. You know, the perfect size for choking on.

Seeing no quick fix to the problem after I had the plate off, I texted Keith to call me. I also called my dad, hoping that in the realm of his experiences was something that would help me and Colter out of this jam. He laughed, but had no save-the-day ideas.

About now Colter decided to sit down and poop. On the potty, thank goodness.

Keith called me and I let him know what was going on. I told him I'd work on it for awhile, not to come home just yet, but he decided to head straight home. Oh, and this little escapade pulled him out of a meeting just weeks after he started his new position at work. After awhile of fiddling with some little picks and tiny screwdrivers, I hadn't even budged the lock.

Finally, an hour or so into this ordeal, Keith arrived home. Seeing no other options, he drilled several holes around the lock mechanism so that we could put skinny screwdrivers in and push the key around, unlocking the door. Approximately an hour and half after being shut in the bathroom, Colter was freed. He promptly requested the cookie he had been promised.

Amazingly enough, he still went down for a nap. But by then, Elliott was up, though thankfully he had slept through the whole thing and I wasn't dealing with a crying baby in the midst of all of it.

If you are visiting and want to lock the bathroom door, the key now resides on top of the medicine cabinet. Please don't make us come in after you.

Grinching

I have been told a story of my brother and cousin piling every last one of my brother's toys on his bed, sitting on top, and telling my mom they were playing Grinch.

Colter has never seen the Grinch, but somehow he knew exactly what to do, all on his own.

And, like the original Grinch, he likes to be pantless.

There used to be toys here...

I think, perhaps, it is time to pare down the toy selection.

Chatting with the C-Man

Ready for some more of Colter's wisdom? Here's what has made us smile recently.

Colter: Elliott had big hands. Now Elliott has little hands. Elliott took off his big hands and Elliott put on his little hands.

Colter: I'm just growing horns.

(Conversation about carnivals going on at the dinner table.)
Colter: That's what Carmela has in her belly. There's a carnival in her belly.

Colter: (to me) I'll get taller and you'll get littler and then I'll babysit you.

Colter: (after sneezing several times in the yard) Sometimes I just put my snot right in the grass.

Colter: Horseradish mustard? That's what the horses put on their cheese sandwiches?

Colter: (watching a truck pull a tractor backwards) The truck is going forwards and the tractor is going backwards. They are going in both directions at once.

Me: Look, that's a picture of your baby cousin in Carmela's belly.
Colter: I think Carmela just ate my baby cousin.

Colter: (stops in his tracks while walking) I just ran out of walking.

Colter: Dear God, please keep my family safe and happy and healthy. Almonds.

Colter: (slapping his forehead with his hand) I am just cracking my head and I will be a pistachio!

Colter: Why are your toenails red?
Me: Because I painted them.
Colter: Why did you paint your toenails red?
Me: Because I wanted them to be pretty. Would you like me to paint your toenails?
Colter: No, my toenails are already pretty.

Our friend Mego: How old are you?
Colter: Old enough!

(While at the pharmacy)
Colter: Who is that man?
Me: He's the pharmacist.
Colter: A farmer?
Me: No, a pharmacist.
Colter: He has hair like a farmer.
(The pharmacist had dark hair and a beard like Popper, the #1 farmer in Colter's life.)

Colter: (building a pillow castle) Elliott, come in! We'll cover ourselves with pillows and live happily every after!

Colter: (looking at Elliott's belly) He just has another baby inside him.

(Colter has been using the word "love" a lot..."I love this pickle. I love this cartoon. I love this tractor.")
Me: Do you love Elliott?
Colter: A little bit.

Me: (tucking Colter in) I love you.
Colter: Ok.

Balloon Animals

When we saw my aunt a couple weeks ago, she gave Colter a book about making balloon animals and a handful of balloons. A few days later, Colter was asking incessantly for balloon animals, so I dug around for a pump to blow up the long balloons and made my first attempts at an air-filled menagerie. First we had a red dog that provoked a tantrum because – and I quote – IT'S NOT A BLUE CAT! Then we had a yellow swan that looked much more X-rated than elegant. Next up, per Colter's request, was a pink snake, which did nothing for the age-appropriateness of this endeavor.

But our crowning achievement, and the photo-worthy creation, was a giraffe. Ok, it is not very proportional (or perhaps even photo-worthy) but it got a lot of mileage when we hit on the idea of adding spots with stickers.

See? Even Elliott wants one.

I don't suppose I'll be hiring out for any birthday parties, but it was a fun way to fill that time between dinner and bedtime. Thanks Aunt Debbie!

Let's Talk

Colter is quite the chatterbox, and he often says funny (and sweet) things. So funny (to us, anyway) that we've taken to writing them down. I'm going to share a few from the last year, but be warned: there's some potty talk. And not 4-letter words, unless that word is "poop."

Me: When Elliott is born, Mommy will have to go to the hospital. Will you come visit us?

Colter: No.

Me: I'll be in the hospital for a few days, and you can come meet your baby brother.

Colter: I'll stay right here.

Colter: (talking about Elliott) We forgot to put gasoline on his pee-pee. 

(He meant Vaseline.)

Colter: I love my daddy because we go in the basement and work on our workbenches.

Colter: (laying next to Elliott) We're dreaming about rhino rides and tractors.

Colter: (to Elliott) Would you like your burp cloth so you can burp and spit up all your milk?

Colter: (sees a coffee pot in a store) I would like to buy that coffee pot.

Me: You would? What would you do with a coffee pot?

Colter: I would make Daddy some coffee.

Me: You are my sunshine.

Colter: I am your golden rock.

Keith: We use money to buy food. Where do we get the money?

Colter: At Turkey Hill.

(That's where the ATM is!)

Colter: (after putting his stuffed monkey, Percy, on the Boppy on my lap) Percy needs to eat.

Colter: I'm going to read you a story…Once upon a time there was a star and it loved its mommy. And a spider crawled on it. And then it crawled off. That was a great story.

Colter: (as Keith got home from work and put his wallet and money clip away) Awwwww…I just want your money.

Colter: It's good to pee on the farm.

(Further questioning revealed that he and Keith had an involved conversation about how the guys pee outside on the farm, but that he shouldn't do it in our yard.)

Colter: I'm just going to leave my work clothes on. These are my work pants, this is my work shirt, and I even have work underwear.

Me: (talking to Keith) It would be ok if there were subcategories.

Colter: I like cat parties!

Colter: (clearing his throat) Daddies and Poppers and Pop-pops do that.

Me: (talking to Keith) It would be good to be within walking distance.

Colter: Walking biscuits?!?

Keith: Walking biscuits?

Colter: If they had legs!

Colter has a shamrock-shaped pancake for St. Patrick's Day.

Keith: Mommy made you a special pancake. What does it look like?

Colter: It looks like….cauliflower!

Colter: The flowers are sad because we're not looking at them.

Colter: (to Elliott) You have a crazy outfit.

Colter: (to a random woman at the library) My daddy is Bob and I am just Kevin.

Colter: We have to turn the fan on and get all the stink from the poop out.

Me: Oh yeah? Where did you learn that?

Colter: Popper.

Colter: I tried to do a pee but my pee-pee just needs new batteries.

I hope that brightens this dreary day for you!

Weekly Photo Outtakes

It's tough to get a good shot around here. Not just because Elliott moves, but because we have an inexperienced photography assistant who is not so adept at setting up a shot or posing the talent.

Why is it that when I want a picture of Colter, he pitches a fit but when I want one of Elliott, he feels the need to be in it?

Anyway, the weekly photo is up. Let's keep it quiet that I had to pull the white onesie out of the hamper, shall we?

1000

A picture might be worth a thousand words, but this t-shirt is worth a thousand books.

We took part in a program at the library called 1000 Books Before Kindergarten, which is exactly what  it sounds like. We kept a log of the books we read with Colter, getting a sticker or coloring page for every 100 books. When we reached 1000, he got a t-shirt. It took us exactly six months, starting on October 31 and filling in the last book on April 30.



(Can I just say it drives me nuts that two out of the 1000 book titles are written in blue pen? What was I thinking? I should just rid the house of blue pens.)



We definitely read more that weren't recorded in that six month span, but if 1000 is about average for six months, that means we've probably read well over 5000 books in his lifetime. (I'd venture a guess that about 1000 of those would be Curious George.) It was within the rules to write down the same book every time it was read, as repetition builds language skills. That's good because our 1000 books probably has more like 300 titles listed.

It makes me so happy to be raising a little bookworm. I hope he continues to love to read all through his life.

And instead of wondering what to do with the book log now that it's filled up, I have the great pleasure of filing it away in his memory box.

Oh, and in case you are wondering about Elliott and reading, we are working our way through Anna Karenina. Just kidding. We are getting into a routine of reading two books before each nap and bedtime, and sometimes he lays on the bed with Colter for his nap and bedtime stories. So he's getting plenty of reading in, but we haven't started a book log for him. Is it wrong that I don't want to keep track of another 1000 books? Curse of being the second child, I suppose. (And I'm a second child, so I know.)

Anybody read something good lately? Something that doesn't start with, "George was a good little monkey, and always very curious…"?

Behind Every Great Picture...

Behind every great picture...

there's a toddler trying to pants his dad.

Brothers

Not much of note has been happening around here lately, except that these boys keep growing right before my eyes.

Watching a little Curious George together (Elliott doesn't actually get to watch tv but sometimes Colter likes to sit together for a couple minutes)...

Reading with Daddy...

Bath time! Why Colter was so intent on Elliott licking the spoon, I don't know.

Weekly photo. Guess who can't stand to not be the star?

Elliott has a new toy? Big brother must do thorough inspection and rigorous durability testing first.

One evening Elliott would not eat for Keith or I. Colter said, "I can feed him." And he did. Elliott ate every last bite too.

Ah, the concentration tongue. Warms my heart to see it.

I'd like to say he was pretending to be Simba on Pride Rock. Really, he's just being goofy.

These two boys – it's hard to imagine what shenanigans they'll be up to in another year.

Cuteness Overload

A slow, snowy day seemed perfect to throw a little cuteness overload your way. Not that I'm biased towards my handsome boys or anything...

Colter worked so hard at getting his finger puppets on his toes. I do believe there will be another toe-pincher in the family!

Stay warm!