He didn't have nearly enough self-inflicted injuries

So my parents got him a bike.

This was fully sanctioned by us, and we would have gotten it for him, but we'd already gotten his birthday present. They still needed something to augment a weekend away to meet the driver of Gravedigger, so they got him his own wee bike. My mother's thoughts on it were optimistic.

"You can pop HM in her stroller and walk behind him."

The first time out, sure.

Second time out, I was at a good jog to keep up.

I'm thinking by summer's end, training wheels will be off, and I'll need my own bike to keep up. Or better shoes.

Seven years

Today, the boy turned seven. Seven is a surreal kind of birthday. He's no longer a cute little moppet with baby fat around the edges toting around floppy stuffed dog. Overnight, it's like I see how lean he is now. He's tackling bigger things at school, moving beyond the things that kids pick up without effort (like the ABC's) and on to things he has to take a pause to work out.

He's also becoming more independent, so we decided this would be a good year to celebrate that: my parents got him a bike. He rode it with me tailing him around the block three times before he wanted to put it away.

At first, he didn't want to get one... then he saw stunt bikes on TV. Bikes going through hoops of fire, jumping helicopters, evading raging tigers, etc. After that, he definitely wanted a bike.

Did I mention the self-destructive tendencies have gone up, too?

New Blog

This one is still going to be updated now and then, but I've started one for work and personal things:

http://elephantangelchild.blogspot.com

I'll do another kiddo update later, but for now, here's a picture:


She rolls!

Back at work!

Did you know how hard it is to blog with one hand? Well, it's not easy. Hence, lots of half entries that were deleted due to lack of time. The irony, huh? At home, no other thing to do than tend to a smallish humanoid, and nothing can ever get done.

I'm back in the land of adult talk now, but I have not come empty handed. A video!

Smile!

And yes, we have pictures

Here she is, one month, with her blanket buddy.
And yes, still kicking our rears.

A month as 1 + 1, rather than 2

One of the things you noticed first on being two separate entities? When you go out alone, people don't hold doors for you anymore. Or smile for no reason. Or strike up conversations as you compare expiration dates on the milk. It doesn't bother me, so much, as I've always been one that likes the ability to go invisible at will. But I caught myself smiling at an guy in passing, and realized I probably look unbalanced. I had just gotten used to random smiling.

We've adjusted fairly well, and faster than we did with JT. People have been asking how JT's been reacting, and he's been taking it all in stride. Being almost seven is a world away from being three or four, which was when people were saying I should have my second.

If I had listened, and had them three years apart, one or both would have ended up on eBay.

JT reacts as most boys do to babies. "Oh. It's a baby." The contrast between him and his girl cousins is sharp. We have to swat them away anytime HM is within their reach, and keep them from climbing up our pants when she's not. JT is generally fond of her, but has a strict 'hands off' policy. The one time he held her, he told us she made him nervous, and was glad to have us take her back.

His male classmates reacted similarly as well. They boys? Hands behind their backs, looking politely interested. The girls? A mob scene. And surprisingly sophisticated. Some questions I got (from six year old girls!):

* How big is she?
* Does she eat a lot?
* How's she sleeping?
* Did it hurt when she came out?
* Did you yell out?

The last two floored me. I mean, JT just put together the fact that I didn't have a belly anymore, and Hannah's being born, and that there must have been some sort of process involved.

Oh, and to anyone who thinks maternity leave is a big vacation? This blog post took me three hours to write.