First of all, exercising with a five year old is definitely not a good idea. I've been trying to figure out how to exercise during the day, so that I have don't have to do it at nine o'clock each night when I'm already exhausted. Since Isaac cries when I pee, it seemed a far fetched plan that he would contentedly play while I spent an hour exercising. Well, as it turns out, he wasn't the problem. My little sports commentator was, and I heard each of these phrases, at least two times:
She's better than you.
Why aren't you doing it.
Look, I'm doing it better than you.
She has her leg up higher.
Why are just laying there.
I'm hungry.
Why can't I have the weights?
I really wanted the weights!
I'm starving.
She's doing it way faster.
I'm sooo hungry. I'm starving. I need something to eat right now!
You need to do it faster, like her.
Are you done yet?
When can I eat?
I'm seriously considering re-joining the gym.
Isaac thought it was hilarious that he could put his pacifier on this toy and then put it in his mouth.
We are also working very hard at getting him to agreeably sit with us for dinner, and have a tube feeding at the same time (that's the tricky part). The last two nights it has worked perfectly. In his mind, tube feeding + high chair = DVD player, or else I'll scream forever. So we are very grateful for a couple peaceful meals.
If I'd kept track of the hours Isabella spent cleaning the chalk board over the past few days, you would assume I was running a child labor camp. It's clean. And I never asked her to do it. Obviously. If I'd ask she would have thought I was torturing her.
Isaac's Occupational Therapist is amazing. First of all, she's the polar opposite of me. This means that she is always super peppy and when she sees Isaac she says, "HIIIGH FRIEND!" in a really loud high pitched voice, and has so much energy, that I wish I could bring her home with me. She dressed up as a ladybug on Halloween, which totally freaked Isaac out, but he got over it and agreed to work with her that day. I reserve my high pitched happy voice for Stella and our nighttime cuddle, which always make Walter roll his eyes. It goes something like this: Well there's my puppy daaawwg. Oh what a cute Stella Bella. You're my poopsie poopsie puppy do...okay, that's probably enough. Please don't stop reading my blog now. It's our moment, okay?
She tried to get Isaac to pretend he was eating the rice. He gave her an intense look of disgust and refused to touch the spoon.
Another mom at OT was commenting on how angelic Isaac always looks..."does he ever scream?" Does he ever! The kid has lungs of steel. Don't let his blonde curly hair and big blue eyes fool you! Just hang out at my house for a day and a night.
In OT he is working on some fine motor skills such as, zipping a jacket (we practiced about thirty times during ballet today, so he's pretty good at that one now), and also everyday tasks like helping to put his pants on (now if I can get him to stand, and ask him to show me a leg, he will help put his leg in his pants), taking on and off socks and shoes (which we're actually going to stop working on since he is getting his braces next week, and he will have to work up to wearing those all day), recognizing that he needs a diaper change, telling us what he wants without throwing a tantrum, touching food, transitioning from playing with one toy to playing with another (agreeably), and about a million other things. We're a very long way from these everyday tasks, but he is making progress in baby steps, and we'll take it!
My lesson learned for the day: don't put hummus in Isaac's blend. He's been smelling like garlic for several hours. I like garlic, but when it's burped up...totally gross. I hope you enjoyed that little tidbit of information.
Goodbye!
I love this post! Yay for happiness and progress :D Also? Isabella continues to be hilarious :)
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