I think it was Saturday evening when Reilly came up to me in the kitchen and told me that she had to go poopy. (Yes, that’s what she calls it: “poopy.”) She’s been using my bathroom lately, so I walked her over to the toilet, set up her stool (no pun intended) and closed the door. She likes her privacy.
A few minutes later, we heard a call from behind the closed door: “Mommy! Daddy! I went poopy!” Shawn and I rushed over to the bathroom and were greeted by a certain scent which let us know that Reilly had indeed been successful. We helped her wipe up and then gave her hearty applause and congratulations (positive reinforcement, positive reinforcement, positive reinforcement).
To further celebrate, Shawn gave her not one, not two, but three Special Treats (M&M’s). Since she normally maxes out at two, three Special Treats was indeed a momentous occasion.
After the excitement died down, Reilly joined us in the kitchen, where we were cooking dinner. Reilly approached me right away and told me that it was time for me to go poopy. I told her that I didn’t currently have to go poopy. But she insisted, explaining to me that I could get three Special Treats. Though her encouragement was tempting, I tried to explain to her that as much as I might try, there was no poopy in my plans until sometime the next day.
She then said, “Come on, honey.”
I said, “What?”
“Come on, honey, it’s time to go poopy!”
Shawn and I started to die laughing, not because of her insistence, but because of her use of the word ‘honey’ which was so clearly an appropriation of Shawn always calling her by that same word.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Happy Valentine's Day!
It's been baby crazy lately around these parts, so I thought I would send out a hearty congratulations to the three new babies who have entered our cirlce of friends in the past two weeks! (They are all Valentine's Day babies, if you know what I mean.)
Welcome to:
Aidan James Wilson
Born October 10th at 3:19pm
7lbs even, 20 3/4 inches long
Samuel "Sammy" Edward Hendrix
Born October 15th at 11:26am
5lbs, 15oz and 19 1/2 inches long
Lila Katherine Calipari
Born October 25th at 2:00pm
7lbs, 3oz and 21 inches long
Welcome to:
Aidan James Wilson
Born October 10th at 3:19pm
7lbs even, 20 3/4 inches long
Samuel "Sammy" Edward Hendrix
Born October 15th at 11:26am
5lbs, 15oz and 19 1/2 inches long
Lila Katherine Calipari
Born October 25th at 2:00pm
7lbs, 3oz and 21 inches long
Still waiting for one more, Charlie Wong, due in three weeks or sooner...
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Friday, October 26, 2007
No limp fish here!
When Shawn was away earlier this week, I decided to teach Reilly a proper handshake. For some reason, I have an aversion to a poor handshake, or should I say, I have a true appreciation for a properly executed handshake. Since it is never too early to plant your neuroses in your own child, I taught my baby how to shake my hand.
As Reilly is prone to do, she not only understood what I was trying to teach her, but also shook my big hand with her little one like she’d been doing it her entire life.
I enjoyed our little lesson, then, as I am prone to do, forgot all about it.
Flash forward to yesterday. The phone rings at work.
“Hi, Bri.”
“Hi, Shawn.”
“So, I asked Reilly to give me a high five today, then she told me to shake her hand. Did you teach her that? Because it was really cute.”
“How was her handshake?”
“Good.”
“That’s my girl.”
As Reilly is prone to do, she not only understood what I was trying to teach her, but also shook my big hand with her little one like she’d been doing it her entire life.
I enjoyed our little lesson, then, as I am prone to do, forgot all about it.
Flash forward to yesterday. The phone rings at work.
“Hi, Bri.”
“Hi, Shawn.”
“So, I asked Reilly to give me a high five today, then she told me to shake her hand. Did you teach her that? Because it was really cute.”
“How was her handshake?”
“Good.”
“That’s my girl.”
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
One mint, or two?
This morning in the car, Reilly asked for a mint. I keep Altoids in the car for bad breath emergencies, and she knows right where they are.
“Daddy, can I have a mint?”
“Sure.”
“I pick a pair?”
“Sure, Reilly.”
Every morning, the first step to getting ready is when we ask Reilly to pick out a pair of underwear to put on. We typically have to make this request a half dozen times before she actually complies.
Because a “pair” of underwear is actually a singular object, when she said “pick a pair” this morning, she was really only asking for one mint.
“Daddy, can I have a mint?”
“Sure.”
“I pick a pair?”
“Sure, Reilly.”
Every morning, the first step to getting ready is when we ask Reilly to pick out a pair of underwear to put on. We typically have to make this request a half dozen times before she actually complies.
Because a “pair” of underwear is actually a singular object, when she said “pick a pair” this morning, she was really only asking for one mint.
Protection
Yesterday, we went to the park after school. Reilly asked to go to the swings, but when we got there, three of the four swings were taken up by some loud 12 year old boys. I saw Reilly hesitate to join them, and she looked up to me with a little trepidation on her face.
“Daddy, you protect me?”
“Of course I will protect you, Reilly.”
“Okay!” she yelled, and she ran off to the swing.
“Daddy, you protect me?”
“Of course I will protect you, Reilly.”
“Okay!” she yelled, and she ran off to the swing.
There is a difference
This morning while Reilly was watching the show “Franklin” on TV, I set her bagel and juice down before her.
“Here’s your breakfast, Reilly.”
“Thanks, Daddy.”
“You’re welcome. And thank you for saying ‘thank you.’”
“I didn’t say ‘thank you’ daddy. I said ‘thanks.’”
“Here’s your breakfast, Reilly.”
“Thanks, Daddy.”
“You’re welcome. And thank you for saying ‘thank you.’”
“I didn’t say ‘thank you’ daddy. I said ‘thanks.’”
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Just think how she'd react to Tabasco
Last night I was sitting on the couch in the living room and listening to Shawn and Reilly in the bathroom. Shawn was leading Reilly through her bedtime ritual. I heard the water turn on in the sink, and then Reilly shouted out, “That’s spicy!” which let me know she was brushing her teeth.
You see, being the parents we are, we bought Reilly three different kinds of organic, safe-to-swallow, mild-flavored, ridiculously expensive toothpastes, none of which she liked. We should have known that Reilly would not want her own toothpaste. She wants mommy and daddy’s toothpaste.
So, we let her have a bit of our Crest on her toothbrush. Every night when she first puts it in her mouth and the minty tingle hits her tongue, she exclaims, “That’s spicy!”
I have considered teaching her the word ‘minty’ in place of ‘spicy’ but it is just so damn cute hearing her yell out “That’s spicy!” each night, that I just haven’t been able to do it.
You see, being the parents we are, we bought Reilly three different kinds of organic, safe-to-swallow, mild-flavored, ridiculously expensive toothpastes, none of which she liked. We should have known that Reilly would not want her own toothpaste. She wants mommy and daddy’s toothpaste.
So, we let her have a bit of our Crest on her toothbrush. Every night when she first puts it in her mouth and the minty tingle hits her tongue, she exclaims, “That’s spicy!”
I have considered teaching her the word ‘minty’ in place of ‘spicy’ but it is just so damn cute hearing her yell out “That’s spicy!” each night, that I just haven’t been able to do it.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Such a big girl
I am amazed each day on how much Reilly's speech is maturing. Here is an example of a dialogue Shawn had with our 2.3 year old daughter:
Last night, Reilly had a coughing fit that woke her up from her slumber. Shawn picked her up from her crib and brought her into our bed to calm her down.
Reilly ended up sleeping between her mom and dad, her feet at our faces and her head at our knees.
When Reilly woke up this morning, Shawn asked her if she had a good sleep.
Reilly looked up at her and said, “Yes. I’m still a little bit tired though.”
Shawn said, “Okay, baby. We’ll go slow this morning.”
Last night, Reilly had a coughing fit that woke her up from her slumber. Shawn picked her up from her crib and brought her into our bed to calm her down.
Reilly ended up sleeping between her mom and dad, her feet at our faces and her head at our knees.
When Reilly woke up this morning, Shawn asked her if she had a good sleep.
Reilly looked up at her and said, “Yes. I’m still a little bit tired though.”
Shawn said, “Okay, baby. We’ll go slow this morning.”
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Reilly Grace - Week 118
I was away this week, so I've only got one picture to share, taken by Grandma:
Do you think she was missing her daddy?
Do you think she was missing her daddy?
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
Five more things
1) I forget what day it was, maybe last Friday, but Reilly was refusing to let me help her get dressed. I sat down on the couch and told her to go ahead then. Show daddy how you do it. She then shocked me by not only undressing herself, but also dressing herself. All the way down to the socks and shoes. She even got her underwear, shorts, and shirt on facing in the right direction. I was stunned.
2) Reilly’s two cutest mispronunciations: “surprise” is “puh-prize,” and “porcupine” is “porkypine.”
3) Reilly has a fear of thunder, which is probably a good thing for a girl growing up in Florida. The last time it thundered, Reilly pulled me into her room, slammed the door, and said, “Now we’re protected.”
4) Reilly has started telling us stories about past events in her life. For example, she told Shawn a story the other day about her recent haircut:
“Mommy, my lollipop is all gone.”
“It’s all gone?”
“Yeah, I got my haircut with grandma and now my lollipop is all gone.”
5) Last night, after Shawn had put Reilly in her crib and was walking to the door, Reilly called out to her, “Mom, mom, come here. I need to tell you something.”
Shawn walked back over to the crib and said, “What is it, Reilly?”
Reilly responded, “My eyes are blue.”
2) Reilly’s two cutest mispronunciations: “surprise” is “puh-prize,” and “porcupine” is “porkypine.”
3) Reilly has a fear of thunder, which is probably a good thing for a girl growing up in Florida. The last time it thundered, Reilly pulled me into her room, slammed the door, and said, “Now we’re protected.”
4) Reilly has started telling us stories about past events in her life. For example, she told Shawn a story the other day about her recent haircut:
“Mommy, my lollipop is all gone.”
“It’s all gone?”
“Yeah, I got my haircut with grandma and now my lollipop is all gone.”
5) Last night, after Shawn had put Reilly in her crib and was walking to the door, Reilly called out to her, “Mom, mom, come here. I need to tell you something.”
Shawn walked back over to the crib and said, “What is it, Reilly?”
Reilly responded, “My eyes are blue.”
Puzzling
On Friday, Mrs. A. called Shawn to tell her that Reilly was sick. Diarrhea. Come quick.
Shawn picked up our baby girl from school and brought her home to get cleaned up and down for a nap. Reilly, being a two-year-old—a sick two-year-old—woke up from her nap with devil horns sprouting from her head. It got so bad at one point that Shawn decided to give “Time Out” a try.
Shawn sat Reilly in a chair in the corner of the dining room and told her that she had to stay there for two minutes. Much to her surprise, Reilly not only stayed there, but when the two minutes were up, apologized for kicking her mommy and gave her a hug and kiss to make up.
Flash forward to Sunday afternoon. Reilly and I are playing with a peg puzzle of various shapes. Apparently, the circle, diamond, and star made some bad decisions, because Reilly picked up the three puzzle pieces, walked over the chair and set them down. When I asked her what she was doing, Reilly said quite sternly that the puzzle pieces were, “doing time out.”
Shawn picked up our baby girl from school and brought her home to get cleaned up and down for a nap. Reilly, being a two-year-old—a sick two-year-old—woke up from her nap with devil horns sprouting from her head. It got so bad at one point that Shawn decided to give “Time Out” a try.
Shawn sat Reilly in a chair in the corner of the dining room and told her that she had to stay there for two minutes. Much to her surprise, Reilly not only stayed there, but when the two minutes were up, apologized for kicking her mommy and gave her a hug and kiss to make up.
Flash forward to Sunday afternoon. Reilly and I are playing with a peg puzzle of various shapes. Apparently, the circle, diamond, and star made some bad decisions, because Reilly picked up the three puzzle pieces, walked over the chair and set them down. When I asked her what she was doing, Reilly said quite sternly that the puzzle pieces were, “doing time out.”
Monday, October 8, 2007
(Oil) Change
It’s Saturday morning. I am standing at the counter at my local auto shop, waiting to pay for the oil change they just performed on my car. I have my debit card out and while I wait for my bill, use the card to flick around a little piece of paper that was left on the counter.
The clerk at the counter looks at me with a raised eyebrow, and then says with a wry smile, “Are you playing?”
I laugh and explain to her that I was just at the playground with my daughter, and that the effects haven’t quite worn off yet.
Then, almost as an aside, she says, “Well, she will grow up to break your heart, I can promise you that.”
I am really caught off guard by this comment. Lately, I have been thinking a lot about how Reilly might turn out to be a difficult teenager, but until this moment, haven’t yet considered that my heart might get broken in the process.
Not knowing what to say, I just mumble, “I believe you’re right,” and then sign my receipt and head out the door.
The clerk at the counter looks at me with a raised eyebrow, and then says with a wry smile, “Are you playing?”
I laugh and explain to her that I was just at the playground with my daughter, and that the effects haven’t quite worn off yet.
Then, almost as an aside, she says, “Well, she will grow up to break your heart, I can promise you that.”
I am really caught off guard by this comment. Lately, I have been thinking a lot about how Reilly might turn out to be a difficult teenager, but until this moment, haven’t yet considered that my heart might get broken in the process.
Not knowing what to say, I just mumble, “I believe you’re right,” and then sign my receipt and head out the door.
Sunday, October 7, 2007
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Little Girl Blue
While we were away in New York, Reilly stayed over at her grandma and grandpa’s house. One of the cuter stories that came out of that weekend follows:
When Shawn was a toddler, her mom used to sing her the song “Little Boy Blue.”
Little Boy Blue, come blow your horn.
The sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the corn.
Where is the boy that looks after the sheep?"
He's under the haycock, fast asleep."
Will you wake him? "No, not I;
For if I do, he'll be sure to cry."
When Shawn’s mother (aka “Donna,” aka "Grandma") would say the line, “Will you wake him?" little Shawn would answer, “No, not I” and then her mother would finish the song.
Donna decided to continue that tradition this weekend by teaching Reilly “Little Boy Blue.”
However, when Donna sang the line, “Will you wake him?” Reilly would respond, “Yes! Wake him up!”
When Shawn was a toddler, her mom used to sing her the song “Little Boy Blue.”
Little Boy Blue, come blow your horn.
The sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the corn.
Where is the boy that looks after the sheep?"
He's under the haycock, fast asleep."
Will you wake him? "No, not I;
For if I do, he'll be sure to cry."
When Shawn’s mother (aka “Donna,” aka "Grandma") would say the line, “Will you wake him?" little Shawn would answer, “No, not I” and then her mother would finish the song.
Donna decided to continue that tradition this weekend by teaching Reilly “Little Boy Blue.”
However, when Donna sang the line, “Will you wake him?” Reilly would respond, “Yes! Wake him up!”
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
Old Home Place
Over the weekend, Shawn and I traveled back to our old home turf. The real purpose of the trip was for Shawn to attend a baby shower for our friend Sara, who is due at the end of October. Unfortunately, we ended up visiting her in the hospital, and it appears that she will now be due today! Welcome to the world, baby Brian Seth Wilson!
I’m not sure how to put this, but with each visit to The City, I feel like I always have a second, underlying purpose: to figure out what my relationship is to New York. The City became a part of my fabric in the five years I was there, and grew to be like a friend to me. And an enemy. And like those complex relationships you often have with certain friends, I am always trying to figure out if I love The City or if I hate it.
Poor Shawn. As we walked through the city streets, I would start nearly every sentence with, “Well, now that is something I love about The City,” or, conversely, “God. I hate that about The City.” This constant back and forth probably made her crazy, since she loves the city wholeheartedly; like a bosom buddy.
I am always trying to make sense of things, and New York City puts this personality trait into overdrive because everything in The City is out in the open, is raw and present. The problem here is that one cannot make sense of The City, there are too many variables. To try is to flirt with insanity. Yet still I try.
In the end, I had fun last weekend, but I mostly had fun because of the people I had around me, old, good friends. We ate sushi, we drank wine, we walked to favorite pubs and old streets, and as good friends are prone to do, we picked up right where we left off.
As Shawn and I rode the A Train back to JFK airport on Sunday, sitting across from us was a stinking bum chugging from a quart of malt liquor. At one stop, the door opened and he stood up to throw his empty bottle into some bushes by the platform. Through the open door came the soft sunlight and cool fall air of the north. At that moment, I was able to distill my conflicting relationship with the city down to one sentence:
At the same time, The City represents everything I can’t take with me, and everything that I am willing to leave behind.
I’m not sure how to put this, but with each visit to The City, I feel like I always have a second, underlying purpose: to figure out what my relationship is to New York. The City became a part of my fabric in the five years I was there, and grew to be like a friend to me. And an enemy. And like those complex relationships you often have with certain friends, I am always trying to figure out if I love The City or if I hate it.
Poor Shawn. As we walked through the city streets, I would start nearly every sentence with, “Well, now that is something I love about The City,” or, conversely, “God. I hate that about The City.” This constant back and forth probably made her crazy, since she loves the city wholeheartedly; like a bosom buddy.
I am always trying to make sense of things, and New York City puts this personality trait into overdrive because everything in The City is out in the open, is raw and present. The problem here is that one cannot make sense of The City, there are too many variables. To try is to flirt with insanity. Yet still I try.
In the end, I had fun last weekend, but I mostly had fun because of the people I had around me, old, good friends. We ate sushi, we drank wine, we walked to favorite pubs and old streets, and as good friends are prone to do, we picked up right where we left off.
As Shawn and I rode the A Train back to JFK airport on Sunday, sitting across from us was a stinking bum chugging from a quart of malt liquor. At one stop, the door opened and he stood up to throw his empty bottle into some bushes by the platform. Through the open door came the soft sunlight and cool fall air of the north. At that moment, I was able to distill my conflicting relationship with the city down to one sentence:
At the same time, The City represents everything I can’t take with me, and everything that I am willing to leave behind.
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