Stirring the pot.

Today, I gave Alexander a pot, wooden spoon, and a lid. I showed him how to bang the spoon on the bottom of the pot in order to amuse him. What does he do? He flips the pot over, and for the next 25 min, stirs the pot, puts the lid on it, opens it, stirs again. He occasionally stops to stir the other pot that I bring out, and spends some time comparing how the lids fit on the two pots.

I tried to show him how to pretend eat the soup he was making, and he just looked at me, utterly mystified.

Can't believe it's been a year.

We made it through the birthday party, my birthday and the ensuing unwrapping and assembling of loot. We've had to put a lot of it into the archive, to be brought out later. The mighty mite is cruising around on his push-walker in the shape of a car, and seems to be seconds from running around on his own. He figured out he can fit under the bed if he tilts his head today, much to my horror. He's totally going to get stuck. I just know it.

I keep meaning to a)write him a letter for his book, b)book a portrait commemorating his first year, and also c)go through his clothes yet again and get rid of all the too short stuff.

I have six weeks left to hang out with him before classes start. It's both eternally long and scarily short.

T minus two days

First birthday party on Sunday! Endless trips to the dollar store, the grocery store, the party supply stores. Laura's making a caterpillar cake, and our theme is bugs. Because he's a little bug. We've chosen a theme that has absolutely zero merchandizing. So, I guess that's good (?) I'm making bug antennae, a "spot the ladybug" game, and a bunch of kid's food, and also rice and beans. Mom's making green chile.We're planning kid activities: spot the ladybug, squash that bug (pop balloons with gummy worms inside), cocoon your mom/dad, plant a bughouse (a flower) a pinata and of course, cake. There will probably be about fifty people here, and it will be about a hundred degrees.


I bought a slip and slide.

ALL AT ONCE

Once he started crawling, all the switches got thrown to GO! He's started waving hello and goodbye, and clapping. He's still taking off his socks and shoes the minute he has access to them. Today, his grandma showed him how his socks became puppets, which he immediately tried doing and succeeded, much to his shrieking delight. Yes, shrieks of joy are new, and accompanied by tensing up his entire little body and balling up his fists.

He started what is known as "cruising" today, which is walking while holding on to furniture, or me, or a combination of the two. I started singing "Cruising, it's not Sunday afternoon..."

He's a noble little guy. Shares his food without fail and knows the rules, like don't go in the kitchen, don't play with the stereo, don't crawl off the edge of the bed. When faced with any of those temptations, he'll do a little dance on his belly, pumping his fists and his legs, then shake his head. Do the dance, then shake his head. I generally intervene and praise his virtue at that point. And then there's his looking out for the little guy. In this case, his eight week old cousin, JJ, whom we visited today. His feet were chilly so we put socks on him. Alexander immediately zoomed forth to liberate his cousin from the oppression of socks. Twice.

Meanwhile we started sleep training yesterday, and his dad has sent me out of the house both evenings, for which I'm ever greatful. So far, so good. After protesting for about 45 min last night, he slept most of the night without waking up--from 8.30 to 3.45! Of course at that point I was DYING to nurse him, and he happily obliged. Tonight, he only protested for 20 min. Let's hope tomorrow's easier too. He was so ready for this. We all were so ready for this, in spite of my inital resistance to any approach that involved crying. But, I guess after hearing him cry in the car all the way to Pasadena, I found I could survive the crying. Still, I feel a kind of loss at not cuddling my baby to sleep anymore.

Quick!

This kid is doomed to wear pants that are always either too long or too short. He's growing so fast I can't keep up with what fits. We have two plastic bins: one filled with things that are too small, and one filled with things that are too big. Inevitably, I keep missing the window on the upcoming clothes. Also: he's between shoe sizes: medium pinches his chubby feet and large looks like clown shoes that flop right off.

He's just learned to wave. It's bye bye and its also random. His English grandparents are visiting, Nain and Taid (Welsh for Grandma and Grandpa) and he's having a grand time playing with them and being taken out on very long walks where he gets to see flowers and the world.

I've just put together invitations for his first birthday party at the end of this month, and I cannot believe it's already been so long. This time last year I was very pregnant, and wrecked from not sleeping and anxiety. Against all expectation, I'm more relaxed than I've been in a long, long, time. This time two years ago I was reeling from jetlag in India and being a corporate wife for the summer, and the year before that we had just bought our house and moved in.

It was Baby Day at the hospital where he was born; we got an invitation to come take a group photo, so we went. They had invited all babies and their families born from 2006-2009, and took a group photo for each year. It made me feel almost giddy, happy to be there. As we left I teared up. It snuck up on me, the momentousness of the occasion. This was Alexander's generation, his cohort. And also, this was a thing that was only us, not our families of origin, but something else, new and exciting. The future seems full of the thrill of the unknown for the first time in a long time. Funny, that. I mean going to India was exciting, but in a very different way. I'll have to think more about how.

If you're happy and you know it

Clap your hands!

Alexander figured out how to clap today, and was very pleased indeed. In fact, he's so taken with it, he was trying to clap as he was falling asleep tonight.

Also new today: zooming away on the bed whenever he's undressed, giggling hysterically. Maybe the giggling has something to do with our playing along, "Oh no! Naked baby escape! Get him! Get him!"

Watch out.

He's growing faster than I can see. One minute he's a baby in my arms, the next he's trying out being a kid.

We just got back from a four day trip to Boston, one of my conferences. Flying was better than expected on the way out, and as bad as I thought it might be coming back.

Baby Benadryl, by the way, is a lie.

It wasn't that bad. He cried and fussed for three hours, and slept for three hours. In my arms. Even with a sling, it still hurt.

Boston was funny; apparently, the bug has powers of zapping random people on the street with his cuteness. This never happens here. Either the kids there are not so cute, or there aren't any kids there.
And then there's this picture below: What?


We just ditched this table. Not to prevent delinquency, which from the looks of this photo, seems like a good idea, but because the top is glass and it's all super sharp corners in a very small space. Also it was spacky and had to go.

He understands "no" and won't come into the kitchen (one of the rules). He'll stop if you call his name: here he was reaching for something dangerous, and I called him. Hence the look.

Thanks to Tia Pita for the fabulous attitude appropriate T-shirt. Y que, indeed.