She Blinded Me with Science (and Made a Huge Mess)

Much has been made of late about the importance of STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering and Math) education in the U.S. Is it important for our country to invest in getting our children interested in STEM topics? Sure, probably. But like a lot of things related to education, the battle starts at home.

You want your kids to like reading? Read to them.
You want your kids to like art? Create with them.
You want your kids to like science? Make rockets, chemical reactions and dinosaurs everyday activities.

How will you know it's working? Here are a few clues you're doing it right.

1. When you realize you're able to forgive almost any mess on the basis of its scientific merit.
Admittedly, Hollie is way better about this than I am. Though I'm far from a neat freak, I get heart palpitations just looking at this picture. But, hey, cause and effect! Non-newtonian fluids! Rate of absorption!

That being said, Cornstarch + Water = Science!
Rolled Oats + Water = Ridiculous Mess!

2. The weirdest things become science.
Hollie and I talk about science a lot at home. She works at a natural science museum and I work at a research university, so that's not terribly surprising. What's weird is how LG interprets and recontextualizes the very word "science." For instance, every month we get a calendar page from her daycare listing special events. And every month, the calendar page goes missing for a week because she carries it around the house, proclaiming that we can't have it, because, "it's my science! I need it... for science."

This, it should be said, is a great answer to every question, ever.

3. Goggles become an every day accessory.

Because science can strike at any time.

4. Your toddler schools your friends regarding prehistoric life.
What follows is a conversation between LG and a few friends who came to visit last week.

Adult #1: "What's your favorite dinosaur, LG?"
LG: "I like triceratops, or maybe T-rex."
Adult #2: "That's cool. I think my favorite dinosaur is the pterodactyl."
LG: "..."
Adult #1: "Yeah! Pterodactyls are great dinosaurs, don't you think!"
LG: "No. Not a dinosaur. That's a flying reptile."

Boom. Roasted.

5. Because acid/base neutralization isn't the only reaction you get when you mix vinegar and baking soda (and Kool-Aid powder).

Because. SCIENCE!

Status Update: Two Months After Mega Baby

I didn't write about this when G2 was born, possibly because having two kids dramatically reduced my capacity to do anything but take care of two kids, but our son was a big newborn. Not scary big, but big. Nine pounds, three ounces--90th percentile-big.

Interestingly, we were given no indication during Hollie's pregnancy that this was the case (a marked contrast to LG's time in utero). He measured right-on-the-money average at every single checkup; until the day he was to be born, when a concerned nurse suggested a last-minute ultrasound to check if he might be on the large side. One scan later, she estimated his weight at 9 lbs, 6 oz; remarkably close to the truth, given how inaccurate full-term ultrasounds usually are.

All of that said, he didn't look big. When you compare pictures of LG and G2 at one-day old, there's not much difference.

Yeah, so I see some differences now, but in the first 24 hours, I would've sworn it was the same kid.

Fast forward two months, and they still look remarkably similar. I'd often wondered whether or not my kids would resemble each other, mostly because my brothers and I didn't (at least not when we were kids. Now that we're all bald, there's no doubt we're related.)

And that brings us to his two-month checkup. Four shots, one oral vaccine, and couple of measurements. For all his initial bigness, and as much as he seems bigger that I remember LG being, he's nearly average.

For those of you who don't speak metric, that's 12 lbs 1 oz, or 58th percentile. 

Similarly, his length is 23 1/2 inches, for 53rd percentile.

And for all the other milestones that matter, things are right on track. One thing I don't remember from when LG was an infant was how quickly certain things happen. For instance, one day G2 wasn't tracking faces, and the next day he was. One day he didn't really grab things, and the next day he could. I remember being aware of transitions with LG in a way that I'm not with G2, and I don't know whether or not the in-between spots were in my imagination.

Or maybe he's transitioning from one milestone to the next while I'm watching his sister. He's only been around two months, and they've already worked out the art of misdirection.

Who? Me?

Sibling Sixth Sense

Mama filling in for Matt since he got tired of me bugging him to write the next post. It's been a little more than 8 weeks since our family welcomed G2 and we're in the swing of things now. A lot of fun stuff is going on with G2, but what I really want to preserve for posterity is the relationship that is developing between my first and second (and last) born.

Obviously, at this point, the relationship is a little one-sided. G2 is a bit preoccupied with holding his head up and sleeping 18 hours a day, so networking with the under-3 set in the house is not high on his list of priorities. LG more than makes up for it. She's very, very verbal. Very. This makes temper tantrums particularly trying; and bargaining for simple things like eating food and sleeping to stay alive becomes the better part of one's day. That aside, the fact that this girl can talk makes life more interesting around the ol' Griffatolo homestead. Conversations are more lively with non sequiturs peppering the landscape like happy little trees. We have 20 minute jam sessions where we are introduced to songs centering around unicorns whatever inanimate object is closest the toddler. And, we know exactly who ate paint and who hit who and who had a time-out at school. (Taylor, I'm looking at you...) But, by far, the best thing right now is when LG talks to and for her brother.

These interactions of several different varieties:

1. Machine-gun Greetings
These may be the most annoying in the moment, but really show the depth of a toddler's love for her brother (and misunderstanding of the limitations of infants.) LG will wake up in the morning and the second she sees her brother, it's a loop of: "Good morning, G2* Good morning, G2. Good morning, G2. etc." all the while gently poking him in his alarmingly soft head.

*She does not call him G2. That would be weird. She has a nickname for him that will embarrass the heck out of him when he's older. Score.

There are variations: "I love you, G2. I love you, G2. I love you, G2. etc." "How you doing, G2? How you doing, G2? How you doing, G2? etc." "Are you hungry, G2? Are you hungry, G2? Are you hungry, G2? etc." Each time the phrase is uttered, it is spoken with the same cadence with only the briefest pause between each phrase.

As a parent, I want her to feel like she's being heard. I want to validate her feelings for her brother. I want to reward her for kindness towards her kin. Mostly, I just want her to stop repeating herself and give me a moment's peace. So I respond, "Good morning, LG.*" Oh, the wrath! "I WAS TALKING TO G2!" If I gently try to explain that G2 cannot answer her because he can't talk, but I'm sure he would like to wish her good morning/love her back/report on the status of his hunger, it only fans the tiny flames of her rage. 

*I do not call her LG.  That would be weird. 

2. Nanny, Nanny Boo Boo
This type of interaction might be my favorite. It seriously makes me laugh every time. With the exception of the above example, LG has figured out pretty quickly that G2 cannot do all the things she can do. He can't eat the things she eats, he can't go on the potty like she can, he can't paint a picture like she does. And she sweetly lets him know about it every chance she gets. Each meal, poor G2 is reminded that he cannot have sausage because he doesn't have any teeth. He is reminded he can't go potty because he'll fall in. He can't paint because he can't hold a paint brush. Occasionally, she follows it up with "you can when you're bigger," but it's perfunctory. She seems to take some joy in reminding him of his infantile shortcomings.

It should be noted that G2 is taking it all in stride. I am, however, not looking forward to the day when the English language no longer eludes him and he doesn't take too kindly to a big sister telling him what he can and cannot do. But, as a good friend likes to me remind me, that's a problem for Future Hollie.  Sucker.

3. What a Baby Wants
This is the most frequent interaction. LG knows what G2 wants. She knows what he's thinking and feeling and is kind enough to share his inner workings with us, her clueless parents. It's helpful. How else would I know that G2 really wants a cookie or that his favorite Beatle is Ringo? (True stories...) Some helpful lists in case we call on you to babysit and LG is not around to translate:

Things G2 wants (according to LG)
cookies
to watch Wonder Pets
Play Doh
to not be held by Mama so Mama can play with LG
stuffed caterpillar
books (read by LG of course)
pancakes
milk (so LG can watch TV while Mama's busy feeding him)
bouncy seat
milkshake
to be rocked furiously in his swing by a toddler

Things G2 likes (according to LG)
trees
singing (by LG)
Ringo Starr
Strawberry Shortcake toothbrushes

She also has a long list of things G2 doesn't like. However, I think she cheats on that one because she just waits until he cries and calls out the obvious stuff- being his car seat, sun in his eyes, loud singing from a toddler. Pfftt, I can do that.

I am very much looking forward to G2 eventually holding his own in these conversations. Though, I suppose, he may never learn to talk. Why would he need to? He'll be happy enough brushing his teeth with his Stawberry Shortcake toothbrush to"Octopus's Garden" after his dinner of cookies and milkshakes.

I'll show you who's too little...

What's in a (Super) Name? (100th Post!)

First things first. Let's throw out some numbers. This, right here, is my 100th blog post. In 10 days, the blog will celebrate its 3rd Anniversary. Tomorrow, G2 (whose birth has thus far been unremarked upon in this space) will be three weeks old. Today also happens to be my middle brother's birthday (this last bit of info will become more relevant in a minute).

Having said all that, what do I want to share in this momentously timed post? I'd like to talk a little bit about names. From the day we learned we were having a boy (for much longer than that, really), Hollie and I spent a lot of time considering boy names. Back in 2010, we were relieved to discover that LG was a girl, because we just couldn't think of any boy names that we liked. Girl names, we had those by the dozen. Our ultimate choice for LG, while wholly satisfying, was one of at least three we could have gone with and been just as happy.

But boys... boys were tough. My one-time top choice, Aiden, had been ruined many years ago by Sex and the City. All other Irish-sounding -an/-en/-in names were out because Hollie didn't care for the way they sound with Griffin. Gavin Griffin, Ioan Griffin, Dylan Griffin, Griffin Griffin? Perhaps too much. (Why do all those Irish names end in 'n's anyway?) Oliver was another contender, but did I like it just because I wanted to name LG Olive at one time?

On top of that, we really wanted to avoid going the overly trendy route. We needed something classic, but not overused. Singular, but not unrecognizable.

(And a middle name? Psshht. The whole process turned my brain to mush. The day before he was born, I became weirdly fixated on Horatio as a middle name. Cooler heads prevailed, and Hollie convinced me I was headed in the wrong direction. She claimed it was because it was "too grand," which I think is code for, "you're insane if you think I'm letting you name our child Horatio." So be sure to thank your mom for that someday, G2.)

Probably three months before G2 was born, miraculously, Hollie came up with a first name so perfect, I can't believe it hadn't occurred to us before. Seriously, it's kind of embarrassing for me.

So G2 is almost three weeks old, and if you're family or friends with me on Facebook, then you already know his name. (And if you don't fall into either of those categories, how did you find my blog? Seriously, I'd like to know.) Per my policy of not using my kids' real names online, I'm not going to use it here.

But I'll give you a hint. It's the guy with the glasses.

If you know me, or have been following along with Solving for G over the last three years, this should shock precisely none of you. But there's another story behind this, something that goes beyond my general predilection for the exploits of 4-color heroes. Or at least explains that these geek roots run deep.

I had turned three years old less than a month before my younger brother was born. That's 30 years ago, today, for those paying attention. I don't remember much about the event. Some foggy images bounce around in my head vying for a claim to reality. For events that long ago, it's hard to know what I remember, and what I remember people telling me over the years.

But here's what happened, so far as I'm aware. My parents didn't know whether my brother was going to be a boy, so they naturally had two names set aside, prepared for either eventuality. I don't recall the girl name, but I'm told the chosen boy name was Justin. A fine name, certainly, and not one my parents had heard very frequently... until they got to the hospital on April 18, 1983*. In the time leading to my brother's birth, my mom (a nurse who knew lots of people in the hospital) discovered that not one, not two, but three other boys who had just been born had been named Justin.**

That might've been okay for some folks, but there was no way my mom was going to have the fourth Justin on the maternity ward that day. As a matter of course, he was born, but he had no name. And a day later, he still had no name. And on day three, awaiting discharge, he still didn't have a name.

Desperate, or perhaps just curious what suggestions their newly minted three year old might have, my parents asked me what we should name him. I didn't hesitate. "Superman." (How's that for grand?)

Needless to say, our parents went in a different direction. But nearly 30 years later, I saw no reason why I shouldn't trust my first instincts on the subject of male names. It just took me a while to remember that.

It should also be noted that G2 weighed 1.5 lbs more than LG at birth, was almost an inch shorter, and yet didn't look fatter. I credit his superhuman (possibly Kryptonian) density. 

* Happy Birthday, brother!
**some details of this story may be wrong. Give me a break. I was three.

Baby/Mama Drama, or the Lack Thereof

If this pregnancy has been characterized by anything, it's a distinct lack of drama. Sure, you could chalk my lack of pregnancy-related posts up to the fact that the blog is about three years old, and I post less often. Or it could be that we haven't had a new ultrasound appointment every four weeks. Or that no one has flipped out about this kid being too big, or too small, or not having enough room, or whatever other thing will drive us nuts for a few days. And that lack of drama isn't coming from us. Hollie and I were fully prepared to indulge in every crazy swing of medical opinion the second time around.

Thankfully, the docs at Penn Medicine seem to be largely sane, reasonable people who don't freak us out every other appointment.

That is, until yesterday, when a slightly overzealous, overly excitable student midwife sent us to the hospital when Hollie said that maybe, perhaps, possibly she's felt our son kick moderately less frequently than he had been doing in the previous few weeks.

Evidently, according to the midwife we've been seeing most frequently, the magic words are "less frequently." So off we went to the Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania.

It should be said: As much as we hoped to just be on our way after this routine appointment, there were significant advantages to a brief sojourn at the hospital, such as:

1. I haven't actually been to this hospital before, despite its location about four blocks from my office. Much like our one-week-from-the-end false alarm during LG's time in Casa de Hollie, it let us preview the hospital at a slightly less stressful time.
2. I now know where to park. Score.
3. I now know where the maternity ward is located.
4. I now know where the visitor's lounge is located.
5. I now know where to get Potbelly subs.
6. I now, finally, have an ultrasound picture of our son.

Boom.

It's hard to tell if he's sucking his thumb or trying to punch the ultrasound wand in the face.

The hospital monitored the baby's heartrate, Hollie's heartrate, and the sporadic contractions she's been feeling for almost two weeks. Following those tests, she had an ultrasound. It should be said, the purpose of this ultrasound was NOT so we could get a picture. But I wasn't going to pass up the chance to grab one, and the tech helpfully obliged. Many thanks, goofy HUP ultrasound tech!

Oh, did I mention the tech was a little weird? Yeah, we had a nice little chat about Obama's mother, anthropology, the tech's family who lives in Kenya (the tech was Caucasian, it should be noted), the fact that she thinks amniotic fluid viewed via ultrasound looks like a star-filled sky, and other things I'm totally forgetting because the conversation was all over the place.

All in all, the trip to the hospital took about two hours and cost us $7 for parking. But we got a picture and a hospital preview, so whether or not it was absolutely necessary, it was totally worth it.

A letter to my unborn son: 10 Reasons You Should Try to be Born Today

Dear G2,

Yes, I realize you're not technically due until March 28, and with every passing day it seems more likely that we'll have to wait 'til then to meet you. But if you'll indulge me, I'd like to make a case for why it wouldn't be such a bad thing to be born today.

1. It's the last day of Winter! It's the first day of Spring! It's crazy confusing, but it's sort of neat. Most of the time, the Vernal Equinox happens on March 20, like today, when it officially happened at 7:02 a.m. Then every once in a while, like 2007, the Equinox will fall on March 21, and it'll make you wonder whether or not you've been imagining your birthday's significance your whole life.

2. A bunch of really cool people were born on March 20. It may not mean much to you now, but it's epically cool to share a birthday with Mr. Rogers and Big Bird. (Side note: I'm going to try very hard to make you understand how awesome Fred Rogers was. We could all stand to be better neighbors.) And if that doesn't doesn't do it for you, maybe you'll appreciate sharing a birthday with the 10th Doctor's second companion, Martha Jones (or at least Freema Agyeman). (Another side note: if you can't come today, wait 'til Friday. It's Captain Kirk's birthday. Not William Shatner. JAMES TIBERIUS KIRK!)

3. You can get free Rita's Water Ice on March 20 and pretend they made a holiday just for you.

4. You'll be a cusp sign of Pisces/Aries. Super confusing, at least to any of your friends who are super into the Zodiac. They'll spend hours trying to draw a star chart for you, and you can just laugh and doodle a fish with a goat's head. Good times.

5. Your mom is tired, and would like to bring you into the world ASAP. The whole let's-pretend-I'm-coming-out for 4-6 hours every other evening is getting a little old. You can do better.

6. I'd like to introduce you to the joys of Cherry Black Forest Cake. Your mom isn't wild about chocolate cake and your sister apparently doesn't like cherries. You're my last hope.

7. Albert Einstein published his general theory of relativity today in 1916. This is pretty significant, and will mean a lot more when I'm helping you with your physics homework in 16 years or so.

8. Here's a good reason you should be born in the next 8 hours or so. There's a good chance we're going to get slushy accumulation overnight tonight, so I'd rather get your mom to the hospital before that happens. Got it? Thanks.

9. As long as your mom doesn't go into labor in the next few hours, I'm going to see Demetri Martin in person at the bookstore next to my office. How cool would it be if that were only the second most awesome thing to happen today? Pretty awesome, is the answer to that question.

10. In addition to the cool people I mentioned above, it's my birthday today. And I can't imagine a better gift than meeting you. Come on out and scream, "hi!" It'll be a good day, I promise.

You've got 13 hours or so. Get to it, buddy.

Sincerely,
Your Father

The Waiting is the Hardest Part

Technically, G2 isn't scheduled to arrive until March 28, which is nine days from now. That said, LG was 10 days early, and Hollie started feeling some contractions more than a week ago. Given those facts, and the natural urge to want to meet our son, we're getting a bit antsy at Casa Griffatolo.

I mean, there are only so many ways to explain to a 2-and-a-half-year-old kid that her little brother is coming soon before she loses any sense of what those words mean. She can see that her mother's belly is bigger, and she knows (because we've told her) that her brother is in there. But it's all sort of abstract, to say the least. Heck, it's sort of abstract to me, and I have some idea of what's happening.

That said, she does have some notion of what's coming, and it's shown through in odd ways. For instance, when we brought baby stuff (e.g., Rock n' Play, baby swing, car seat) out of the attic, she wanted to put her baby doll in all of these things. But it didn't end there.

We may need to establish some ground rules concerning acceptable baby receptacles.

And the last time she got into her Play-Doh, she wanted to use her Mr. Potato Head parts to make baby brothers.

Which is exactly as creepy as it sounds.

What can you expect, though? The feeling of "what's next?" has permeated the air at our house.

Addressing the to-do list I posted last time, we've done practically everything except get the oven fixed (still my fault). We've cleaned, cooked, celebrated my birthday (early), and we're almost totally sickness free (the occasional cough notwithstanding). We've even jumped ahead a few weeks and made some Easter finery.

Division of labor in our house: Hollie made the hat, I made the bow tie.

Now that I think about it, the fact that I made his Easter outfit probably dooms us to a late delivery after the holiday.

Get a move on, G2. I spent like half an hour on that thing.