Happy Hundred!

Believe it or not, this is the Armstrong family's 100th blog posting.

That's a lot of reading you have done. Congratulations.

To celebrate, this blog entry will be extra long, full of details and stories none of you probably care to hear. Ha.

But lots has happened this past week-and-a-half, and we must do the stories justice.

In a nutshell, Luke continues to keep our heads rolled back in laughter, and we have a feeling life with him is just going to keep getting better. (Though the story goes that someday the fun will reach a soaring a height and then take a great surge downward into the horrible abyss of adolescence. But the hope is that out of the abyss, he will emerge a man, and we’ll like him again.) Speaking of men, he's all about male bonding these days, a healthy and natural step of growing up, we hear. Mom isn't fun to give kisses to anymore, and heaven forbid listening to her sing. He pushes Mom away sometimes when Dad's around. Gentle, but very clear: "Mom, I'm Dada's boy." Today while Richie was away at work, Luke would chant "Da da! Da da!" and then look at Bethany pleadingly with desperate "pleases" (which still come out with just the breathy P sound). She wasn't cutting it. He needed Dada. When Richie arrived home there was no mooshy affection, just a sprint toward Dad, and then a showing off of skills and manly interests. Bethany finds it hilarious to witness the growing up of an infant into a real boy. What a curious phenomenon.

Meanwhile, as the fun with our little Lukey increases, so do Luke’s scrapes, cuts, and bruises. Last week was a week of injury.

Injury #1: A toe stick. Luke needed his hemoglobin levels checked. (No anemia, we found out.) So off to Dr. O’s office we trekked. (Luke sure does get antsy in that waiting room. After a few minutes he bangs on the door to be let out. Everyone chuckles at him. He looks at them with a quizzical stare, as if to say, “You just don’t understand.”) When Dr. O’s nurse, a kind woman named Lucy, finally let us into the room, she got down to Luke’s level, talked to him in babytalk, washed his feet, and then stabbed his big toe with a needle to collect blood. Luke instantly looked at Lucy, astonished, with a face expressing total betrayal. She was so nice. And under the guise of kindness and with the cutest little baby voice, she stabbed him! He looked at her with his betrayed little eyes and told her pleadingly, “Boom!” (The word he uses to express that something hurts.) She nodded knowingly and said, “Yes, it hurt, didn’t it?” Louder and more intently, he leaned toward her and said, “BOOM!” She’s probably used to children crying at her. We wonder how many children look at her, eyes six inches from her face, and explain to her that she hurt them. The whole time that Lucy was putting on Luke’s band-aid, he kept telling her “boom.” Certainly she appreciated his reminders. And all day whenever Mom’s hands would get near Luke’s feet, he would remind her that his toe went “boom” that morning. Never one to forget a toe poke.

Injury #2: A fall off a bridge. It was awful. Luke was feeling his oats, and Mom decided not to hover this time. He walked boldly across the playground’s wobbly bridge, and did just great. Several times in a row. Then he tried it again, stumbled, and fell in between the guardrail and the base of the bridge. Bethany watched him topple like a rag-doll, and he fell into all sorts of contorted positions. We expected him to have a broken neck, or at least a mild concussion. He screamed up to high heaven. Somehow he escaped this horrible fall with a bruised shoulder and a headache (which of course he let us know by tapping his head and telling us “boom”).

Injuries #3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8… Stubbed toes, scraped knees, scraped shins, scraped elbows, sliced finger, two new canine teeth… And we think of being a kid as “The Good Ol’ Days.” Think again.

Richie endured an injury of his own, but more an injury of heart than of body. Luke in tow, Richie pedaled to the Co-Op to get a new jar of Postum, only to find that the Co-Op didn't carry it anymore. So he got home and reported the sad news, and Bethany Googled his favorite drink. Try it. Seriously. Google "Postum." We discovered heartbreaking news: Kraft foods has decided no longer to produce Postum. The Kraft message board is full of lamenting, loyal Postum fans, threatening to boycott Kraft until they produce Postum again. E-bay is selling the last-remaining world supply of Postum at over $35 per jar (seven times its previous shelf price). It's mayhem out there on the Internet's Postum-related sites, and lots of feathers are fluffed over this one. Our own Richie spent the night lamenting over this loss. He rolled on the couch moaning and groaning about what we had just heard. He declared that he would quit his job, steal the recipe, and produce it again. He told us sentimentally, "If I'd known it was my last cup, I would've savored it more." And then the most tragic lament of all: "My life will never be the same." Reason for Kraft's cessation of Postum production? Despite Postum's small but loyal following, the cost of production exceeded the net gain. In other words, other people besides Bethany thought it was gross; and Richie and Luke were two of a very small group who actually liked it. Nevertheless, Richie is taking this loss hard, and we would appreciate your condolences as we mourn.

Now for happier news. Things we laughed about lately:

1. Luke woke up yesterday and could hardly even open his eyes, but he begged to go outside. When Richie put him down to let him walk outside with him, Luke crumpled into a tired little ball on the floor and groaned. Richie asked, "Do you want to go outside?" Yes. "Do you want to walk outside?" No. "Do you want me to carry you outside?" Yes. So Richie carried his son into the great outdoors and followed Luke's commands to carry him (yes, Your Highness) all the way to the chickens.

2. Bethany noticed Luke searching through the bathroom trash. (What a noble task.) He pulled out a piece of floss and took it with both hands, strung it tight, and swiped it on his teeth. He really knew what to do with floss. (So there, Ms. Hygienist who always thinks we don't floss! Even our one-year-old knows how. Can we bring him in as proof that he learned it from us?) Mom's heart surged with simultaneous repulsion (used floss out of the bathroom trash: come on, now) and pride.

3. Luke notices imperfections, and they seem to fascinate, yet bother, him. Mom's moles he feels the urge to scrape off. A string hanging off of his PJs needs to be snipped, please, Mom. A stain on the floor must be closely examined from 2 inches away.

4. Luke has learned the art of drinking out of garden hoses. More than learned the art, he has elevated it to the level of Pure Boyhood Bliss: He gulps water til he can gulp no more, then belches, grins, and does it again. Oh, what boys will do for a good belch. Next item on the agenda: teaching him how to burp the alphabet and make armpit noises.

5. Bethany couldn't find Luke in their monstrous abode, and then peeked again in his room to find him somewhere he'd never gotten before: He was sitting in the big wooden rocking chair, rocking it wildly. He got up all by himself and figured out how to make it fly.

6. Richie and Bethany tried to have a romantic dinner while Luke entertained himself elsewhere in the house. Then around the corner careened the little White-Haired Boy pushing a chair wildly into the living room, screeching with glee and scraping the chair all across the living room. He ditched the chair in the living room, went back into his bedroom, and came flying back in with a strong fling of the hand--and across the room flew his beautiful wooden car from Grandma--and across Luke's face came his "Scaryman" look... Romance, indeed.

7. Bethany took 30 seconds to put her hair in a ponytail and came back in the kitchen to find Luke standing at the top of his high chair with his closed-mouth Popeye grin. (See, taking care of yourself comes at a great cost.) She turned her head to laugh and then turned back to Luke and explained how dangerous it was.

8. The lecture on danger didn't last long; today he climbed to the top of kitchen table and stood in the middle of it proudly. He reminds us of a rooster.

9. Bethany went to a brunch with her Bible-study ladies, and there was a wee little baby there, sitting in his carseat. Luke was intrigued. He walked gently up to the baby, and squatted right by him. He stared and stared, but never dared to touch. Then he said just one word: his high-pitched, sweet "um." By the way, that means "meow." He thought the baby was a cat.

10. Getting braver, Luke left his squatting observations for a moment, played with a toy truck, and returned to the baby, truck in hand, to drive the truck all over the baby with "vroom vroom" noises. He ran that truck all over the baby's legs and tummy, but Mom stopped him when he started to "vroom vroom" the truck over the baby's nose.

11. Next, Luke brought the baby his fork, such a precious, precious possession. He wanted to share something very special with him. And when the baby gave no response, he left the fork lying on the baby and returned with a Strawberry Shortcake doll. Still, his offering garnered no response, so he gave up on the baby for the rest of the party.

12. Luke just may be a geotechnical engineer like Dad. What are his favorite things these days? Dirt, rocks, sand, and tunnels. Tunnels are a recent interest (such an interesting concept, eh?) Luke shouts whenever we enter a tunnel, because he loves to hear his voice echo. He hasn't figured out that when we travel in a car, his voice won't echo, but he gives it a good shout anyway. And he shouts in the halls of Bainer, too, (Dad's work building), because he thinks they're tunnels. And every time we exit a tunnel, he utters a pitiful, mournful "ba ba," seemingly devastated that the tunnel is all gone. Sometimes he points back and says "please," because he just can't get enough.

13. When we get him dressed in the mornings, he begs for his baseball cap. So we put it on him, and he pulls the bill so far down that it covers his eyes. All ready for the day! If we pull the hat back up again, he just pulls it right down, and walks awak with his head tilted all the way back, because that's the only way he can see under his bill.

14. Richie and Luke came in from playing in the sand: time for a bath. Richie warned Bethany as she got Luke ready for bath time that he might be filled with sand. So she took his diaper off carefully and then broke into guffaws of laughter. There was no sand in the diaper, and no sand on his behind. But his little wee-wee was covered 100%. A sandy little tube.

15. New word: "Ahh!" Said as a sigh of relief! Used most often when he gets a drink of water (or to request one), when he is on hot pavement and gets to the shade, or even when we are walking in the sun and we hit a shady patch. We won't even notice that we hit shade, until we hear a grateful "Ahhh!" One time he surprised us with "Ahh!" upon biting into a carrot. That good, huh?

16. He now "gets" laughter. When we laugh, he forces out some really loud, awkward, fake laughs to try to fit in.

17. Luke was playing on the grass with a frisbee-ish toy. While it was in his little hands, Shealyn tried to grab it. But oh no, he wouldn't let go. So the two, gripping with all their might, tug and pull and scream and stomp their feet, and meanwhile are cruising all over the grass with this frisbee. They come near a third child, a sweet little girl named Kyla (who happens to have an older brother), and Kyla decides to join the fun. So she grabs on too. The three children cruise around the grass, fighting over the frisbee, stopping occasionally (hands still tightly gripped) to stomp and squawk. First to give up: Shealyn. She gave a last grunt and stomped her foot. Remaining fighters: Kyla vs. Luke. Tug, tug, pull, pull, stomp, stomp... Finally, Luke let go. Thatta boy. Deferring to his elders. But then, he slapped Kyla right smack dab in the middle of her back! He wasn't going to let her get off easy. All of us parents were too busy laughing to deal with the discipline issues involved in the scene.

We considered writing 83 more anecdotes to make 100, in honor of this hundredth blog, but we will spare you. (And we wonder if anyone dared to read this far, anyway.)

On with the show.


We looked up one morning to find this.


He kept begging for the mustard bottle, so we finally gave in. He never asked for it again.


What would a blog entry be without "Scaryman"?


Luke's favorite stuffed animal is his rough-and-tough Canadian husky from Grandma. The only problem: He thinks it's a cat! He treats it sweetly and meows at it. He likes to find its eyes and nose and poke them.


Fun at lunch with Mom.










Luke uses baseball bats as golf clubs.


"Luke, how did your tongue get so blue?"


"It's easy, Mom!"


Bethany is trying to work on Luke's baby book (ha), and there is a page for photos of Luke's friends. We have never mentioned his friend Kiril, whose parents are from Russia. Kiril is exactly one month older than Luke, but so, so big! His parents feed him no processed foods--only homemade stews and porridge. We haven't confessed to them how many crackers and Cheerios he has eaten in his brief 15 months.


Usually Luke plays while Kiril watches him. Case in point.


Case in point.


Another of Lukey's Orchard Park friends, Zellie! Such a gorgeous little thing, three months younger, bright blue eyes!


Luke loves playing with the phone (and without fail holds it up to his ear upside-down and backwards). When we ask him who he is calling, it is always Papa. (Poppy.) There's that male-bonding thing again.


It's Saturday morning. "Bye, Mom! I've got my hat, Dad's got my diapers, and we're ready to roll." (But clearly, still waking up.)


Nighttime post-bath fun.


Sundayafternoontime pre-nap misery. Trying to get him dressed for sleep. Check out the sweatpants and notice the position of the legs. He's in a straight-jacket, poor boy!


Oh dear.


We think it's time to buy Luke a booster seat. He doesn't eat in his high chair, and the moment he sits in a big-boy chair, he eats like a champ.


This is the face we get when we ask him to smile for the camera. He does a similar scrunchy face when we ask him to close his eyes, and now when Richie says he is going to pray for him before bed, he instantly squinches up his little face and peeks at us while Richie prays. (We know this because we peek too.) (Well okay, only Bethany peeks.)




Waiting for a high-five from Dad.


Still waiting!


Favorite food: spoonfuls of peanut butter, straight from the jar. (Never ask us to make you a pb&j sandwich. The jar is loaded with Lukey germs.) So we needed a picture, and asked him to smile, and this is the face we got.

On that note, we will now conclude the longest blog entry in the history of the world. But hey, it's the 100th, so we needed a little hurrah.