All That He Does

Already, barely a year, and this boy does so much already - so many little "boy" things, too. He growls at any of his toys that have wheels. Monster trucks can't be far behind. Just today, I was outside with him and watched as he figured out how to go down the concrete steps out front. An important skill, since he'd already mastered up.

Speaking of up, he's very near to crawling up onto things. He loves to get into the fridge while I'm cooking (my boy!) Today, I turned my eyes for a second, and when I looked back, he'd figured out how to get up onto the bottom shelf to get a better view of the top one - where I'd hidden that alluring red bottle of chili paste with garlic sauce.

It is alluring. (nevermindthatwomanbehindthesauce! Her hair is frizzy.)

We were outside this afternoon - it's a gorgeous summer day here. He was clad in his new Target shoes, toddling all over the place. I had to get him some sturdier shoes because he wore out his hippie baby shoes that his Auntie JuJu had gotten him. (I'm not to refer to her as Auntie Droolie anymore. It's a hard habit to break.)

Every day I come up with a new reason that I'm just so thankful that I get to be home with him full time. Day before yesterday, when temperatures were soaring and the humidity was unbarable, I put him down for his afternoon nap in only his diaper. I heard him babble himself awake an hour and a half later. Then he was suspiciously quiet. I should have checked right away, but had some important Facebook status to update or something. Soon the babbling started up again with some amount of urgency. When I opened the door, there he was, naked as a jaybird and grinning maniacally. His room was soaked in pee. He'd performed the old, Human Sprinkler trick. I thought about how this would probably be such a headache to anyone else, but I just couldn't stop laughing. Really, he peed for distance AND accuracy! I was so proud.

He's also starting to make noises that only a parent could determine as the beginnings of words. He pointed to his nose (once) and said, "NUH!" Totally indicating that this was indeed his NOSE, mother. NOSE. If I say belly button, he reaches for my tummy. I'm trying to encourage him to poke himself in the belly button. Someday I'll try to explain why a woman who's still adjusting to her slightly rounder than it used to be and stretched out tummy might not want to display her stripes on a daily basis, but I think that's still my own body issue. His belly button is way more fun. It still sticks out a little bit - when he was first born he had this disturbing looking hernia that caused his little button to be less of an outie and more like some kind of extra appendage. Now, it's just a regular ol' outie. And it is SO cute. Oh man. We read Sandra Boynton's Belly Button Book over and over again.

His other favorite trick right now is to eat off a fork. He wants nothing to do with actually using it to get the food into his mouth, but he wants his own fork and he wants food to somehow get from the utensil to his mouth. The important in between feeding step is still a mystery, but one I'm sure he'll master soon.

The one thing he still doesn't always do is sleep through the night. We'd gotten close, but still no dice until night before last. He slept all the way through the night. Meanwhile I half slept on my face - cat like readiness to spring into action. When the light began to turn gray and creep across the bed to my submerged face, I realized with a panic that he was probably not getting up and therefore most likely dead. No amount of logic can talk me out of this thought once it's in there. Still, I can't get up and check on him, because if he isn't already awake, I will surely wake him up when I check on him. I had to wait until a more reasonable hour to check on him. At 7 I couldn't take it anymore - I got up, left our air conditioned wonderland for the stuffy hallway. He'd just begun to murmur. Matt and I did a happy dance - more of a shimmy, really - that HE SLEPT THROUGH THE NIGHT! Woo hoo!! Last night I figured out how that had worked. Who knows if he'd slept through the night? I doubt it. I just couldn't hear him over the fan in his room and the air conditioner in ours. Still, he lived. In fact, he was an utter delight for most of the day. I vow to crank up that machine every night and ignore the fear of death. He'll be fine and I might - for the first time in about a year and a half - sleep through a whole night in my own bed. That'd be nice. Just have to put my faith in the greater good that we'll all be okay if he doesn't get a bottle at 3 am. I'm sure he will be. I know this, but... Well, logic never seems to enter into these arguments with a strong lead over the Parent Panic.

It's just so crazy to me that he's mastering new things every day now. He's my little buddy, too. We get to do everything together and we have SO much fun. It's fantastic. I'm so thankful. I'm so lucky. I'm so blessed. It's my daily mantra.

He's the Gilligan so I guess I'm the Skipper