Superbaby

Dear Andy,

You're walking now. You walk better than your great-grandmother, who is 85 and uses a cane. You walk better than my aunt Ann, who fell while hiking and needed seven screws drilled into her ankle. (Yuck, we saw the X-ray).

It was bittersweet to see you toddling around my grandparents' apartment, in their Warm Beach Senior Community, north of Seattle. You made yourself right at home, tossing magazines to the floor, and throwing oranges-- "balls"--across the living room. They were delighted to see your first steps, your determination to walk upright despite repeated topplings. They noticed your unending curiosity of your new surroundings .

"He certainly has ideas about things," Pop said more than once. Those ideas included strumming the heater vents like guitar strings, and twirling Gram's cane like a baton (or nunchucks, depending on who is telling the story).

The bitter part was realizing that you would have no memory of these things. No memory of meeting these beautiful, loving people who absolutely adore you.

I'll have to do my best to remind you.

Love,

Mom

Ruminations

I was all set to take Andy out this morning to our first Felton playgroup. The Mountain Munchkins meet at the Felton Covered Bridge Park at 10:30 on Thursdays. This is the only public playgroup in town that I'm aware of, but it always falls smack dab in the middle of nap time. Nap time is so precious that I haven't wanted to give it up, even though I've wanted to meet up with these munchkins and their mamas for some time now.

Today, I was determined. The plan: get Andy up a little earlier in the morning, and then down for an early nap at 9:00.

Well, at 8:30, Uncle Karl rapped on the window and gave Andy his goofiest smile. I couldn't deny my son the pleasure of hanging out with his Favorite Person in the Whole Wide World. So, Andy and Karl played ball outside, and pushed the Lego Wagon in laps around the living room. Andy lived it up. At a little after nine, there was no way this wired boy could fall asleep. Not with visions of Uncle and ball! dancing in his head. Even though I tried to explain to him that the Munchkins wouldn't wait for us. Didn't he want to expand his social network?

I do. I miss adult conversation on my days home. You might not think that teaching affords many opportunities to socialize. Yet, those brief encounters over the copy machine, in the staff room at lunch, a few exchanges with parents before and after school--they serve as a bridge to the outside world, provide validation that my work with the children is important, and that I am connected to others who are doing the very same, terribly demanding and extremely rewarding, work.

Moms don't get those opportunities, unless they really seek them out. That's half the reason Andy and I venture to the park in the afternoons. Sure, I want Andy to practice climbing and interacting with other children. But I'm always hoping I'll find a sympathetic, friendly mom in the bunch. Someone who wants to admit that her house is never as clean as she would like, and isn't this the hardest job in the world?

Major News Flash

In the beginning, there was the word. And the word was ball.

And then the word became........shoe!

Mike and Karl reported that Andy said this new word, shoe, yesterday. I was doubtful since I didn't hear it directly from the mouth of the babe.

But tonight, he said it again, twice, while taking off his blue Monkey Robeez. He said "Shoooo"! so softly, so sweetly, that I forgave him for squirming and kicking on the diaper changing table, for throwing his toy into the poopy diaper pail, for always preferring uncle Karl to me or anyone else...for doing the countless tiring things that are the work of a 13 month old.

Mike and I basked in the shoe afterglow. Wasn't our son a sweet angel, an articulate genius?

And we wondered, why, out of all the words he could possibly choose from...why shoe?

What will be next?

Night Out

My cousin Meg threw another big birthday bash, this year with a cowboy theme. Half the fun for us was putting our costumes together. (Thanks Romina for the boots and hat!) Our cap guns were the ultimate accessory, even though they were bright orange--you can't buy a realistic looking toy gun these days, for good reason. Who knew that after a few beers the cousin clique would start brandishing our weapons, shooting round after round toward the ceiling? Dancing and shooting. Totally obnoxious and strangely satisfying. Mike tells me later that he took the first shots (as the only sober one in the group). Jess, Hilary and I couldn't be left out. We started a trend and soon a few other cowboys packing heat drew their cap pistols, too. Yee-haw!

I still don't like the idea of guns, even toy guns. I don't want Andy to have any. Yet I found that after a few drinks, I can be a one of the staunchest supporters of the second ammendment.

Happy 28th birthday, Meg!

Happy first birthday, Ben!

Blogger was busy, so some pics are on Flickr.

Ball means many things in his language

I mentioned that we are letting Andy air-dry while his diaper rash clears up. Although he loves being naked and free, I've decided that diapers are really one of humankind's best inventions.

Yesterday he was pushing his lego wagon madly around the living room while his bum caught the breeze. I snatched the opportunity to put his laundry away.

Suddenly, it grew very quiet in the living room. As a parent I've learned that silence, however welcome, is never a good thing.

Sure enough, I walked into the living room to find Andy examining a lump of something warm and brown that came from his own body.

"Ball?" he pondered, looking up at me quizically. The look of horror in my eyes did nothing to convince him otherwise. "Ball!" he proclaimed, pointing excitedly. "Ball!"

He howled in protest as his mean mommy whisked him away from his fresh creation. "Baaaaaall!" To add insult to injury, I put him in a diaper, and he hasn't been without one since.

Just when we thought he was getting closer to the definition of "ball". (Pumpkins and balloons, we can understand...)

Halloween

Mike and I have agreed on rules for our webpage turf wars. He gets first dibs on pictures he takes, and I post the shots that I take. Today I'm scooping his Halloween pics of Andy, since I have more free time than he does, and I just can't resist sharing them:



Andy seemed to have a good time last night. We trick or treated at a few neighborhood houses, including a stop at cousin Nicholas's. We then walked to downtown Felton, where we met his friend Alyssa. (She stole the show in her kitty costume!) For a small town, there were quite a lot of families and kids about. The merchants were generous, many of them dressed up, and the realtors put together a fun Wizard of Oz haunted house.

Back at home, Andy enjoyed helping Mike answer the door in his naked bum (Andy's naked bum, that is). He has a bad diaper rash, so we're airing him out. We passed out five bags of candy and some bubbles before we turned out the porch lights.

All in all, it was a great 2nd Halloween for Andy, but Mike and I had the most fun. We get to relive our childhoods with him. And eat his candy.