Pictures of Alex - June 2008

June 2008.

In June, we were expecting to potty train the baby. He exhibited all signs of readiness, and was two and a half. Well, all the signs except for that slight one ‘shows a desire to take on the responsibility’. And we realized that we were clueless, and the information on the internet really didn’t tell us exactly how to go about motivating him. None of the ‘problems’ seemed to apply to our situation – he wasn’t afraid of the toilet, he didn’t seem upset about ‘losing’ a part of himself. He just wasn’t interested. I tried briefly with the ‘bribery of toy’ method, and when he consistently sat on his seat to get his toy, didn’t go, and then went in his diaper (or his big boy underwear) five minutes after getting off the toilet, I thought we should regroup and try again later. Even his beloved cousin JT showing him how to go didn’t help. Oh well. I’m sure he’ll be potty trained by the time he starts Kindergarten. And he’s gotten really good at helping change his diaper. (I also asked everyone about potty-training. The fellow shoppers at Target. The checkout ladies at the grocery store. The consultants at the quilt shops. The convention registrar for the bonsai convention. The Sunset magazine renewal saleslady who called on the phone. Any woman who I suspected as having gone through the experience successfully was fair game, and polled.)

June 1.

Alex and his toy cars. He loves them. All hundred thousand of them which we have now. At his next birthday party, we’re going to have the party game where guests guess how many Matchbox cars are in his bin. Hopefully it’ll still be one bin at that time. But the bins can get pretty big, so I’m hopeful. Nothing makes him happy like new cars. (Except cousin JT.)

June 17.

Going to the pool. With sunscreen. While dutifully coating my baby in sunscreen, I had some extra left over. So I spiked up his bangs in what I think of as that tragic hairstyle of six inch bangs from when I was in middle school (I never did the Aquanet bangs, but it was the fashion of the day).

June 17.

When cousin JT is around, nobody else rates as anything.

June 17.

Although Grandpa and the noodle can be pretty exciting. Alex likes hanging out on the steps of the pool, and since he couldn’t go into the ‘deep’ water where JT was playing, he entertained himself there.

June 17.

Grandma had bought the boys matching shirts. Which I remember contemptuously scoffing at when I saw other people doing on outings, but somehow, this was endearing and cute now. The shirt is now Alex’s favorite, and when no other shirt will be worn, he will gladly put on his “JT shirt”. Thank goodness for cousins!

June 17.

And here they are, playing more or less nicely together. Alex, of course, thinks all toys are his. Even if the toys are technically more age-appropriate for his older cousin.

June 17

Kicking back on the SpiderMan couch. Eating Cheerios. He had brought himself into the room, snack in hand, and plopped himself down on the couch.

June 18.

Out in public with the matching shirts. We (Alex, Mommy, Grandma, Grandpa, beloved cousin JT) all went up to San Juan Capistrano on the train, and enjoyed the sights as much as a six year old and two year old would allow for. The fountain with the Koi was a success, as always.

Alex has gotten pretty good at following direction, even when it doesn’t make sense. Go under that tree, Alex, I told him. Alright, his expression says as he crouches under the mini tree.

	June 20. We went to the Maritime Museum, where we (Alex and I) had such a great time last March. This time he was a lot more mobile and... inquisitive. But again, better at following direction. Stand at this wheel and look at me was the direction here. As opposed to the candid shots which I usually get.
Here he is at the same place he was with last year’s shot. This time with a snazzy tall-ships shirt.	Here’s the rest of the gang on the HMS Rose. From that movie.

June 28

The sandbox at Grandma & Grandpa’s house. Alex loves getting him some sandbox time. Grandpa knew this, and might be one of the only owners of a sandbox in the retirement community.