Dillierama

Different

- Alex hated breastfeeding, resorted to pumping after a few weeks and finally quit all together at 9 months.
- Max exclusively breastfed for 6 months, continued for over a year. Would still nurse now if I'd let him! (I don't)

- Alex slept through the night at 8 weeks old and continues to give me no trouble during bedtime and even sleeps in most days.
- We're still waiting for Max to sleep through the night.

- Max usually comes into my room in the wee hours of morning. Usually around 4 or 5 o'clock. He snuggles in bed with me for about an hour before he starts poking me "is it time to get up?" When I agree, he gives me a squeeze, tells me I'm "the best Mommy i ever had!" and leaps out of bed and begins zooming around the apartment.
- Alex staggers out of bed, usually about 2-3 hours after Max and I have gotten up. He'll give me a groggy hug and collapse on the couch with his blankie. It's about another hour before he's really up and going. I'm glad he'll be in afternoon Kindergarten this year, because I don't know how we'd make it to school on time in the morning!

- Alex is the pickiest eater ever. I am surprised he has survived this long on nothing but Gogurt and Apple juice.
- Max will eat anything.

- Alex would rather sit and make art projects all day long than do anything else.
- Max wants to RUN! and JUMP! Preferably both at the same time, off of things much taller than himself. He was BORN for parkour!

- Alex will throw tantrums, but is easily distracted by deals and bribery.
- Max can (an often does) throw a tantrum for upwards of THREE HOURS. His tantrums can not be stopped or quieted or bargained with. Once the tantrum train has started, you just have to wait it out.

- Alex insists that he is a BIG BOY.
- Max insists that he is a LITTLE BOY and sometimes even says he's the baby.

- Max is obsessed with trains, cars and blocks. Preferably trains and cars that ARE blocks (Lego anyone?). He plays with his toys.
- Alex is obsessed with collecting stuff. He doesn't care what the stuff is, he just wants it. Preferably MIB (Mint in box). He won't play with his toys, he just organizes them in boxes and baskets and bags. He'd display them all if he could without little brother grabbing them and playing with them. (This behavior reminds me of his Daddy, seeing as how we can't use our closets because they are full of BOXES OF STAR WARS TOYS!)

- Alex wants to make things and put things together.
- Max wants to break things and take things apart (there is a reason we refer to him as "THE DESTRUCTOR!")

- At the park Alex goes up to new kids and asks them to be his friend. He doesn't really play with them until he gets confirmation that "Yes, I will be your friend"
- Max doesn't need confirmation. He just goes up to kids and says "You're my new friend! CHASE ME!"

- Alex is afraid of bugs.
- Max thinks bugs are totally cool and loves to try to catch them.

I never knew that two brothers so close in age could be so different. I love this. I love that they have such unique personalities. They're both so weird and wonderful, and even though they often make me pull at my hair in frustration, I am enjoying being the mom of these two.

News From The Trenches

July has been consumed by the war I've waged on fleas. Yes, fleas. AGAIN! Grrr! We don't even have the dog anymore. Fancy has been living her new and wonderful flea-free life for nearly a year back in Utah with John's sister. No, this time, the fleas appeared on our cat. Our ancient, indoor-only cat. The same cat that did NOT get fleas when the dog had fleas, yet somehow has managed to not only get fleas while living an exclusively indoor lifestyle, she's also managed to drop flea eggs and larve ALL OVER OUR APARTMENT! BLEH! I'll tell you, the only thing worse than a flea infested dog is a flea infested cat. WAY worse.

With the dog, we gave her a flea treatment, cleaned the apartment real well and never saw a flea again until now. This time, it's been an all out battle for over a month. The cat's been getting baths twice a week, we've bought flea powder, flea spray, the cat got a medicated flea treatment, we rented a steam cleaner and cleaned the carpets and the sofa, I've washed every blanket, sheet and pillow we own...but still the fleas, THEY SURVIVE!

We think the fleas infiltrated our home by way of a friendly stray cat the boys and I met at the park. Normally stray cats are frightened and don't approach strangers, but clearly the fleas here in Portland have developed kitty mind control, making the cat not only approachable, but aggressive in it's desire to be played with by small children. Purring and playing and looking soft, fluffy and irresistable. I can only imagine that the fleas immediately began launching egg-grenades at us, which we then brought home like flea-egg loaded mules. They then hatched and began their invasion.

We didn't really notice it at first. The cat cleans herself all the time, so her extra licking and a bit of scratching went undetected long enough for those little fuckers to establish a strong presence in our apartment. Soon Max began getting weird little bumps here and there. But ONLY Max. Then we went to Seattle for the weekend, and when we got back there were tufts of cat fur EVERYWHERE! Clearly Kitty had suffered through a major battle with the fleas while we were out of town and fought them the only way she knew how, scratching big chunks of hair off of her body! Poor kitty. I began cleaning the fur up, and as I wiped down surfaces, along with big tufts of hair, I was noticing little flea bodies, little flea larve, some alive, some dead.

I then proceeded to freak the hell out. Which, I think is really the ONLY acceptable reaction to finding your home infested by little blood sucking insects. John's reaction was to tell me I was overreacting. That jumping up and down itching my skin and hair raw and screeching "FLEAS! OHMYGODWEHAVEFLEAS OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD!" was uneccessary. That they're, "just little bugs, the world is full of little bugs we live with all the time."

This was the only time I've questioned our marraige. As I stood there, pulling my hair out and refusing to sit on our sofa (flea infested) and hopping from foot to foot (because the CARPET HAD FLEAS!!!), I was looking at a man relaxing on our couch in nothing but his boxers who had apparently decided to sign a peace treaty with these evil creatures and wanted to attempt to live in peace with them. "WHO ARE YOU? WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?" I screamed at him, "THEY ARE EATING US!!!" Then I ran out of the apartment and spent an hour at Target buying every single flea control product they had.

When I got back, John and I agreed to disagree about the approrpiate reaction to the problem (he's clearly wrong though) and our marraige was saved by joining forces and fighting back. John agreed to launch a massive attack on our carpets and sofa with a steam cleaner while I scrubbed a screaming, yowling, biting, scratching Kitty in our bathtub.

We thought we'd won, but really the war had only just begun. More flea troops hatched and over the last few weeks we've been fighting battle after battle. I think we're weakening them though. I see fewer and fewer larve and fleas when I clean, and they're always dead. But the war is not over until I wipe a surface and see none.

The John and Max Weekend Extravaganza

John turned 34 on Friday, Max turned 3 on Saturday and Father's day was on Sunday. Joe and Jen (John's dad and step mom) came up to visit on Thursday to help us celebrate and much fun was had.

Joe took John out for a round of golf for his birthday, John hasn't gone golfing since we moved and was nervous that he'd be terrible. I understand that he was terrible, but he had a nice time anyway. How could he not really, Oregon put on its best weather on Friday and the course looks like it was very nice (They went to Red Tail Golf Course which happens to be right next to Target and more importantly Dutch Bros so I've spent a lot of time looking at the golf course while waiting for my Annihilator). While the boys were out on the links, Jen and I took the little boys to the zoo. I'd let our membership expire last fall without renewing and have missed it, so we renewed, Jen bought the boys zoo keys and lanyards, and we spent the afternoon wandering around. The polar bear even put on a good show for us, playing in the water with one of his toys.

We metup at our apartment and Joe was really wanting to go to the coast so we packed up and headed to Cannon Beach. Admittedly, I wasn't crazy about this idea, usually I'm the first one to want to go to the coast, but with a long drive ahead of me on Saturday (to Hood River to see Thomas), I was nervous about driving to the coast and back Friday evening. Turns out I was dead wrong. Taking Joe and Jen to Cannon Beach was the perfect cap to an already great day. The weather was great and the tide was low which made for a great time for Alex and Joe to run on the beach (Joe has declared Alex to be the next great athelete, those long legs make him fast!), and Max collected pretty much every single shell on the beach. We did some tidepooling at Haystack Rock, but didn't see too many critters. Found some fish, crabs, snails and anemones, but I think the tidepooling is better at Arcadia.

Those last two photos were taken by Jen.

The evening was capped off by a fantastic meal at the Wayfarer, which at first glace I thought would never be good enough to justify the prices, but actually managed to EXCEED my expectations. With the exception of the oysters which were just so-so, everyone's meal was amazing.

We woke up the next morning with a three year old and plans for a Day Out With Thomas at Mount Hood Railroad. I thought Mount Hood Railroad would be, you know, at Mt Hood, but in fact, it was in Hood River. Hood River turned out to be an adorable little town that I'd have liked to spend some time exploring (I do plan to go back to Fruit Loop), but we had a date with Thomas, so we spent several hours watching the boys jump in bounce houses, play with toys and then took a ride on Thomas himself!

Last one taken by Jen. THANK YOU!

Joe and Jen headed off to The Dalles and Multnomah Falls, while John, the boys and I headed home to have Max open his presents and have cake.

Father's day was comparatively uneventful. We took Joe and Jen to breakfast before they went to catch their flight back home, then John went to spend the gift cards he got for his birthday. The boys gave him the little present they made for him (a picture of the three of them glued to a CD and they made a little salt dough stand for it that says "DAD") and the boys and I spent the rest of the day being nice to John, letting him sit around in his boxers playing video games and basically letting him relax.

It was a pretty kick ass weekend all around I think.

Rain, Lessons, Buzzcuts

It's been rainy and dreary around these parts lately. Spring is the rainiest time of the year, but this year it's been so relentless with the rainy and dreariness that even I, who LOVES rain and cloudy skies, have had enough of it. We've done our best to make do:

On nice days we spent every single second outdoors:

 

But The Dillier Family is ready for Summer!

So this weekend, after checking the weather forecast, we headed out to the coast.

Sadly, despite the forecast calling for sun, it was overcast, but we didn't mind, the tide was low and there were lots of tide pool creatures to check out.

While poking around Max managed to fall into a deep tide pool. He didn't make a sound no splashing, no screaming... just slipped in, which is what is really scary. We were all together, the kids not more than 5 feet behind us, John and I turned away from them for not more than 30 seconds to look at a rock and Alex says "Uh, Max is in the water." John and I turn around and Max is in the water up to his ears, bobbing around in the tidepool with a look of pure terror on his face. John scooped him out and I whisked him back to the car for a cuddle and some dry clothes.

I still can't believe he made no noise. He could have easily drowned and not made a sound! We didn't hear him fall in, he didn't say anything, there wasn't any splashing, he was RIGHT behind us, the boys NEVER wander around the tidepools unattended, yet still, Max fell in. Thankfully (Thanks to Alex for speaking up right away!) he was scooped out, dried and warmed up quickly and is none the worse for his adventure, but I am definately going to keep an even closer eye on that slipperly little dude!

Our daytrip to the coast didn't last long, after we ate our picnic lunch, the boys and I went looking for shells and it started getting really misty, then it started getting rainy, so we packed up camp and left for Tillamook for cheese and icecream.



The factory was running and we watched them package cheese for a while, then went down to the samples. I was giving Max samples, when suddenly he starting making a gagging noise and was choking on a piece of cheese! Kid had some sort of deathwish on Saturday! He was easily able to hack in out though, but it came out along with a spray of vomit covering him, me and the floor. Once I got everything cleaned up he asked "Can I have some ice cream now?"

After we all ate our ice cream cones with no choking, vomiting, or any other unpleasant experiences, we headed home. We had a good time despite the mishaps though. A nice day together, learned a few valuable lessons, and enjoyed the amazing Oregon scenery. To cap the day off we gave the boys their summer buzzcuts, something I'd been wanting to do to Alex's mop for months now.

The Michael Jackson Experience - Dillier Style

John picked up his copy of the Michael Jackson Experience for X-box yesterday and played it with the boys today.  Boys have been sick for the last few days (see previous post) and I've pretty much stopped even bothering to put them in clothes since we're basically quarantined.  Anyhow, watching my boys do Michael Jackson moves kinda made my day :)

 
Max wasn't very interested in dancing.

 

 
 
Eee hee!

 

 

Sick days

Last Thursday Max started leaking icky green boogers out of his eyes.  Friday morning he woke up with his eyelashes boogered together and Alex began leaking icky green eye boogers.  A trip to the doctor was pointless, the doctor (not our regular pediatrician) said it was viral and to wait it out.  Over the weekend the boys' eyes became grosser and grosser until Sunday when Alex looked like this:

 

Max began to complain about his ears hurting Sunday evening and on Monday, Alex actually looked MUCH WORSE than this photo and he and Max both woke up with their eyes boogered shut again.  To top it off, Max's ear was leaking goo.  We hightailed it back to the doctor, or regular one this time.  As soon as she walked in the room, she took one look at my boys, exclaimed "Oh my god!" and I swear actually took a frightened step away from them while making the sign of the cross. 

She declared the boys to have two of the worst cases of bacterial conjuctivitis she's seen, two sinus infections and shockingly Max had a double ear infection.  I was shocked because Max has tubes and hasn't had an ear infection in a year and a half.  We were give an RX for oral antibiotcs, a pat on the back and a sympathetic "good luck, hang in there." from the doctor and nursing staff.

It is now Wednesday and Alex is still sporting eyes that look like a cross between a Blood Hound and Steve Buscemi, and Max's ears are still leaking goo. We've been stuck in our apartment since Friday and I've been up all night with what is likely to be my very own ear infection.  John has remained uninfected so far, probably because he leaves this roiling petri dish of an apartment for 12 hours a day, only returning after the boys and I have passed out in puddles of our own mucus. 

 

It seems that we can't get a break from illness this year.  Since January, it's been one thing after another, from stomach viruses and the flu, colds, strep, pneumonia, and now Bacteria Fest 2011.  I'm sick of being sick.

HOTWELLS KRS

Alex was helping me write our weekly grocery list this morning.  He requested we buy ketchup and a lunchable, so I told him the letters to write and he wrote them down.  Then he requested we buy a Hot Wheels Car at the store as well.  I told him if he wanted to add it to the list all by himself, I'd buy him a car.  So, he did:

 
HOTWELLS KRS

When I asked him how he figured out how to spell it, he told me he sounded it out.  huh-ah-tuh = HOT.  wuh-ee-ullz = WELLS, because "ulls" of course means two "l"s.  Having learned, probably from World World, that adding an "s" to the end of the word means more than one.  Same with KRS.  kuh-arz = because after the kuh sound, you have "arz" which means, of course, two "r"s.

I thought this was brilliant and sounded perfectly logical.  He will, of course, be getting his HOTWELLS KRS reward.

Not to forget Max, who's contribution to the grocery list was this:

 

He actually did write a few letters before he scribbled all over it.  an A, several L's, about a dozen little m's, and at least one C.  He says his list says Hot Wheels Cars too.  And applesauce.

Potty Training, the Sequel

After the year long fiasco that was potty training Alex, I've taken a completely different approach with Max.  That is to say, I'm not "potty training" so much as I'm "potty suggesting".  We started in December and though he seemed to understand the concept immediately, and was even successful a few times in depositing both poop and pee into the toilet, resulting in much celebrating, rewards and a few end-zone dances from his parents, he just wasn't interested.  So, we didn't push it.  Before bath time I'd sit him on the potty and he'd pee, John would do the same occasionally, but still, he wasn't showing any interest in doing it on a full time basis.

A couple of weeks ago however, John started getting sick of poopy diapers and told Max that every time he pooped in his diaper he'd have a toy taken away.  If Max pooped in the toilet he could have a toy back.  This seemed to work wonders, after the first couple of days he had a whole collection of "poop toys" up on the top shelf of John's DVD case, then all of a sudden it seemed to click with him, he not only earned all the toys back, he's earned a couple of trips to the store for new "poop toys".  Now Max is essentially "poop trained".  He tells us when he has to poop and he hasn't had a poop accident in about a week.

Peeing, that's another story.  Max either doesn't recognize the feeling of needing to pee, or simply doesn't care about it.  Making it even more interesting is that he absolutely REFUSES to wear anything but a diaper.  He won't wear pull ups, detests training pants and breaks down in a puddle of tears when presented with a pair of Toy Story Underoos.  And don't you DARE call him a Big Boy!  He is a LITTLE BOY! And becomes very distraught if you suggest otherwise.  Max has no interest in being a big boy.  He very much enjoys being the baby of the family, and apparently intends to milk this position as long as he can. 

The biggest difference between potty training Alex and potty training Max is me.  I'm just not stressed out about it at all.  I worried and wrung my hands and fretted about the possibility that I'd have to send Alex off to college with a case of adult diapers, yet he was potty trained LONG before he even started his first year of preschool.  Max isn't doing 2 years of preschool, meaning he's not starting until NEXT fall and I'm confident he'll be potty trained with plenty of time to spare. 

I hope anyway!

Operation Spoil Grandkids

Since Mark is on leave from work for his cancer surgery, they have some time on their hands.  Mark, being a truck driver by trade, was getting antsy and Mom was missing the kids so they drove up to visit for a few days.  This was Mom's fourth trip here since we moved, but Mark's first.

First of all, Mark is doing AWESOME!  He's recovering perfectly from his esophagectomy, we visited, ate a lot of good food, went bowling and the boys generally wore their grandparents out.  When Mom and Mark left last night (they drive home this morning), they made sure to leave the boys completely spoiled rotten.

 

 
 
 

It's been just over a week since I cast off the chains of my craptastic job and ran into the sunset screaming FREEDOM!!! 

It feels like we're living in some sort of dreamland where the floors are always vaccummed, dishes are always done, the boys and I go to playdates and activities in the mornings, I don't pass out on the couch by 6PM and I actually see John EVERY SINGLE DAY!  We're practically glowing we're so happy.  John and I keep looking at each other with big goofy grins and saying "this is the life!".

Of course, we haven't yet experienced the financial sting of the loss of my miniscule, yet essential, contribution to our bank account.  I got my last two paychecks from The Place That Shall Not Be Named as well as a payout for a freelance gig, so though we're not rolling in the dough, we're not hurting. Yet. Things will get interesting in about two weeks when we're subsisting on nothing but tap water and stale cheerios fished from between the couch cushions.

I'm toying with the idea of starting a new blog.  I want to keep Dillier.net as a place where I talk about my family, the boys, a place family and friends who live far away can stay up to date on the goings on around here.  But, I have a lot I want to write about on a personal level and it doesn't really fit here.  Though Dillier.net is technically MY blog (John has his own, The Dillier Man Blog), I'd really like to have it be more about my FAMILY instead of ME.  Also, I feel a responsibility to the name itself.  I'm sure all the other Dilliers in the world don't want their name associated with my opining and ranting and soul searching.  So...if I do start a new one, I'll link to it here.