Ollie Update

4 Years Old

/ Shane / 1 Comment

You know, usually when I write one of these birthday posts, the first thing I do is go back and review the post from the previous year.

It’s funny how last year I said he had changed so much from the previous year, because this year I think, “Wow, he hasn’t changed much since the last post.” He still talks all the time, has little interest in dressing himself, still adores his baby and his sister, and loves to be goofy. I guess he’s just solidified into a real person now.

(Side note, did I really say he wasn’t cuddly? Because that was *totally* wrong.) (Side side note, has he only been going to the bathroom by himself for a year? Time does fly.)

There are a lot of things that Ollie is planning to do when he’s a 4 year old. I think he’s pretty sure he’s going to transform into an adult overnight. Certainly he is suddenly seeming much older to me. I’m not sure if it’s going to school, growing a little taller, speaking a little clearer, or just being a little more independent, but all of a sudden I can see him growing up.

He rode a pedal bike for the first time the other day. He can buckle 66% of his car seat buckles all by himself. He knows the words to songs. He makes honest to goodness jokes. He’s certainly the only just-turned-4-year-old I know who thinks so much about being a daddy.

So happy birthday, buddy. I hope you get all 5 pianos you wanted so your kids will have pianos when you grow up.

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Young Authors

/ Shane / 2 Comments

Evie and Ollie have been working on a secret project lately. Ollie dictates a story to Evie, who writes it down. This is something they came up with on their own, and nothing is more adorable then the two of them working on their book! This was all 100% no help from adults (including some very creative spelling). And it’s finally finished. I give you:

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“Once upon a time, and it started to rock, and it started to pop. It started to go up in the air. It was a…

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…alligator boost. Actually, it was a boat. A pig. And the pig jumped over a rainbow. The rainbow jumped over the pig. When the pig jumped over the rainbow, it touched the rainbow and the rainbow said, “Ow!” The…

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…rainbow decided to go back home. AND THEN the pig started to go back home. The alligator started to go back home. And then they[were] eating, so now it was night time. They were sleeping and then they woke up. And then they ate their breakfast. And then they ate…

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…supper. The trains started going on the train tracks. They jumped on the trains and then a spooky ghost jumped out at them. Boooooooooo. When they were riding on the car, they…

2014_03_28_9999_5…started to see what the farmers were doing. And then! Everything started to go back to the farm, then they started to eat the vegetables. The End.”

In which I earn the badge of parenting bravery

/ Shane / Leave a comment

Sometimes Ollie is just a 3 year old from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. By which I mean that, for no good reason at all, he can be so ornery and obstinate that he can make a mule look like a helpful angel.

It was just such an occasion. I don’t even remember what set him off; it was probably nothing. One minute we’re fine, the next minute he’s melting down. I was doing some project around the house, crawling around and cleaning. I was covered with dust, but I was the closest to him, so managing him fell to me. We’re talking full out rage. His face was red and he was punching and kicking me. I was trying to talk to him, to calm him down, but he was just screaming at the top of his lungs.

I was sitting on his legs so he couldn’t kick me and holding his hands so he couldn’t hit me, when an enormous piece of dust fell off my shoulder and floated oh-so-gently down at him. Unfortunately, since he was full out, vein-popping, rage shrieking, his mouth was wide open when the dust fluttered straight in.

This thing was big. Like, dime sized. Somehow he didn’t notice it. Ugh, it was gross. It settled onto one of his teeth, darkening with the moisture. I couldn’t take it.

“Ollie buddy, you have something in your mouth. Let me get it out.”

No dice. As soon as I mentioned it, he clamped his mouth shut as tight as he could, locking the dust inside. I tried not to gag.

“Ollie, buddy, please. Open up, you have something yucky in your mouth.”

Defiantly, he shook his head back and forth, with murder in his eyes.

I had to get that dust out. I had to. He was probably swallowing it as I watched, just to spite me. However, he was too mad to keep that mouth shut, and he soon commenced screaming again. The dust was still in there, taunting me. I needed to reach in and get it. If I moved fast it could be over and done with before he even knew what was going on. On the other hand, if I moved slow, I knew he would not hesitate to bite my finger off. I could see it in his eyes. He wanted me to put my fingers in his mouth. He wanted it bad.

There was no reasoning with him. There was no leaving it in there.

One. Two. Three.

I dropped my fingers between his teeth, snatched the dust ball, and pulled back, before he could even react.

That’s parenting in a nutshell: you just can’t let your raging, maniac son swallow the dust bunny, even if it costs you a finger.

“I don’t remember”

/ Shane / Leave a comment

It is nearly impossible to get any sort of answer out of Oliver, and it always has been. He really just doesn’t like to stick himself out there, or answer something that might be incorrect. If you ask him any sort of question at all, he reflexively answers “I don’t know” or “I don’t remember”. I think maybe this began as a way to buy himself time to find an answer, but he’s answered this way so often for so long, that he now responds before he actually thinks about the answer to the question. If you asked him his name he would immediately answer, “I don’t remember.”

The only way to get him to answer is to respond, “I know, but what is your guess?” Often, when you ask him to guess, he does have the correct answer when he thinks about it for a second.

I don’t really know what to do about this. It can be extremely frustrating when, question after question, he refuses to make any sort of attempt at an answer. I know that it’s not because he doesn’t know the answer.

In fact, he does not want to do anything to stick out in any way. I noticed that in ballet he never answers any questions when the teacher asks, despite the fact that I know that he knows the answer, and he never volunteers to demonstrate or even to go first in line. I asked him why this was and he just got embarrassed and said, “I just want to do what everyone else is doing.”

It’s a part of his personality, but I do think this has something to do with his sister. He just looks up to her so much, but I notice that whenever he’s in an uncertain situation, he always looks at her to see what she’s doing. She’s his safety blanket, and he gets nervous when she’s not around to set the example. That’s kind of sweet in a way, but my hope is that he blossoms a little bit when he’s in situations without her, such as at school.

I do wish he would just slow down a little bit and think about his answer, instead of reflexively answering “I don’t know”. It’s certainly not a lack of intelligence!

Quote Monday introduces some more Ollie-isms

/ Shane / Leave a comment

Here are some of my favorite Ollie-isms (in other words, an addendum to the Halbach Family Lexicon):

  • Pinch black – adjective – Pitch black. “Whoa, it’s pinch black in here!”
  • Probaly – adverb – Probably. “I’m tired; I’ll probaly go right to sleep.”
  • Wiva room – noun – The living room. “Where’s your scooter?” “It’s in the wiva room.”
  • Cobble – verb – Gobble. “Dada, I’m going to cobble you up!”
  • Stunk – noun – Skunk. “Pee yew, I smell a stunk!”
  • Constructions – noun – Instructions. “We need the constructions for the legos!”

Me: “Evie, I need you to get dresses A.S.A.P. Do you know what A.S.A.P. means?”
Evie: “Yes. As. Soon. As. You. Can.”

Ollie: “Do you know there are two people named Stephanie? That means they looooove each other.”