Spaghetti Night

Sometimes you've just got to let 'em go nuts. Look at those smiles. Makes it all worthwhile - even the massive hose-down afterwards. (Note: we removed Sawyers clothes and lined the floor with newspaper pre-feast).

Birthday Party Plannning

Okay - I'm trying to get my act together here. And I need some advice from people who've been to more first birthday parties than I have (grand total = 0). Do we open presents at the party? How long is long enough? Party favors: must have/don't bother? Any other advice from those who've been through it?

Stayin' Alive

It is quite possible that I am the only one that finds my son so hysterical. I videotaped Sawyer for 20 minutes yesterday while he walked around the house with a cup in his mouth, breathing heavily into it and alternating between playing the cup like a trumpet and shaking his head around like a stumpy elephant. Pretty much all you can hear on the video is my cackling. I'm not sure that, in retrospect, it was really all that funny. But, you have to give me this. Now that Sawyer is walking on his own, he holds his two fingers up in the air (as if he was still holding on to somebody). Toss in the but wobble and he looks like John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever. Now that is funny, right?

Sawyer turned 11 months last Thursday. It's is my scary baby age, like 39 may be for someone nearing "the hill" or 64 for somebody about to qualify for social security. 11 months means that a year has almost gone by, leaving me in a dust cloud of should'ves and would'ves, scrapbook projects undone and family field trips not yet taken. My cuddly, snugly baby has morphed into a toddler who'd writhes and wriggles to free himself of my arms, preferring now to explore and discover the world on his own. The only thing I can truly say I am looking forward to about 12 months is saying farewell to formula and rear-facing car seats.


With the count down to one year in progress, here are 11 things we have learned about Sawyer:
1. He'd rather be naked.
2. He may still be bald in preschool.
3 We think he's going to be left-handed.
4. When he's happy and he knows it he claps his hands.
5. He prefers bread to any other food-related product.
6. He prefers paper to bread.
7. He may be a vampire. He's growing pointy fangs which he likes to sink into the soft and tender skin on people's necks.
8. He can walk but prefers to crawl sideways like a crab.
9. His first real word, other than 'dada', was truck. But he could be saying duck. Which would make sense when he hurls the truck in my direction. Other words he's working on: Hi. Justin (Ja Ja). What's That? (Whasss-aa). Dog.
10. He has a truly frightening passion for his Nuk. And.
11. He understands, literally, the concept of: 'If you pat my back I'll pat yours."

video at last

I don’t know exactly what criteria are necessary before walking can be officially declared. I have spent my whole life believing that I started walking on Mother’s Day only to learn recently that I took only one or two paces that day, which I wouldn’t count as walking. But surely this must qualify as a ‘step’ in the right direction!



This video has many levels. Note the sideways crab crawl, the strange ritual he performs with the blue ring, the way he sits next to his big brother, mimicking him, and best of all, the ‘pooting’ finale.

Back Off People - I've got staple guns

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So I guess I suck for not loading a sweet photo of dad and babe on the blog (along with tales of Dad's greatness) for Father's Day. Truth be told, Scott was too busy getting Justin's room ready for his immenent arrival (tomorrrow). We had only minor details to take care of - i.e. insulation, walls, flooring, paint. Justin had left us paint samples denoting the exact colors he wanted his room to be - blue, white and brown. And Scott promised it would be ready when he got here. Well, we've always been apt to burn the midnight oil and the room will be mostly ready. It's kinda like - While You Were Out or Trading Spaces. 48 hours to remodel this room, and, GO! Only, we are the one's with the over-ambitious designer and we have to stay up all night doing 'homework.' Scott did pause to take a photo of me mid-insulation-installation. Now - Ain't he just the bestest dad/husband ever?

Mrs. McScrubie?

We received this - whatever it is - from a friend as a hand-me-down from her three boys. I raised an immediate eyebrow, lacking any sort of tact, and she laughed and said she knew it was wierd but her boys loved it. It's essentially a stuffed doll with a weighted bottom so that no matter how hard you knock it or toss it, it will eventually return upright. Only the arms offer any type of singular movement, I assume for the purposes of saluting a senior officer. It has since become a staple of the bottom bookshelf where I often use it as a weighty bookend. Occasionally Sawyer has a staredown with the thing before he knocks it aside to get at his books. Or he will sometimes watch warily while I obtain great pleasure from knocking it around. But I have yet to proclaim that he "loves" it, or even really cares about it. I am finding, however, that it is slowly working its way into my psyche. What IS it? afterall. Man? Woman? Chipmunk? I am assuming that it must be of the female persuasion due to the pouty lips, shapely eyebrows and rosey cheeks. But what's with the short white hair? Perhaps she's a senior citizen swabie? I've decided this thing must have a name. Any suggestions?

As good a video

Ok!

For those of you who responded to my last post requesting photos or video - I would just like to outline the issues I have with taking pictures these days.

My digitally-minded kid is facinated with all things electronic so, naturally, he loves the camera . . .


. . . and wants to eat it.

So every time I try to take a picture of him I get attacked by "The Mouth." (see previous entry on how he ensnares his enemies in webs of drool).

In order to get a few good shots this time, I did what any good mother would do. I gave the kid a plastic grocery bag.

And let him suck on it until he passed out.

When he woke he looked a little dazed and confused.

And he said, "DUDE, that was NOT cool."

To make amends, I gave him a safer plastic toy, and since he is "The Mouth," he tried to eat it. (Eating Nemo?)

Alas, he showed off his true superhero skill - standing and playing with a toy at the same time.

323 days later

Sawyer most favoritest thing to do in the world right now is to empty his sock bin. Or his drawers. Or my drawers. He flings the clothes behind him, then sits down and flings them some more, spinning around when all the clothes are behind him to start the process over. I was not quite sure of the point of this exercise so I went into my own closet and started flinging clothes over my shoulder and discovered that it really is fun, and quite a realease.

Chapter 11 of my Baby Instruction Manual recommends teaching babies of this age basic concepts like hot and cold, up and down, in and out. So, the last few times Sawyer started emptying his drawers I sat down next to him and began returning all the clothes to the drawer saying, "In. Let's put the clothes IN the drawer, Sawyer," while he furiously grabbed them and flung them over his shoulder again, put-OUT that I was undoing his hard work. See how that works. In. Out. I think he gets it.

He's speaking in nearly complete sentences now, although I couldn't tell you what he' saying. But I recognize that he has a certain vocabulary of words - none that I will attempt to spell - which he repeats often. He understands, unquestionably, much of what we say. This afternoon in the car he was holding his palms flat together and since I can watch him in the baby mirror and he was half way there already, I said "clap." And for the first time, ever, he did. And he kept doing it while I bounced up and down behind the wheel shouting "clap" over and over. "Clap. Yeah! Good Boy. Clap!" I am never as ridiculously unencumbered as I am in the car. This heralds back to my high school driving days when - instead of focusing on the road - I would belt out off-key misharmonized Indigo Girls songs. (erm, i don't do that anymore.) Later in the day watching a Baby Einstein video with the "happy and you know it" song Sawyer clapped at all the appropriate times, and I gushed with motherly pride.

I don't care what anybody says about the clinkiness of Baby Einstein or that babies watching tv will give them ADD, which is probably true - I love these videos. I credit the 'babies first moves' video with teaching him to crawl, stand up, wave, and now clap. Since we are such country bumpkins, we don't have gym or yoga classes to attend so this is as close as it gets to having friends for us.

New fears have started creeping up. He is absolutely petrified of the vacuum cleaner. In fact, cruel as it may be, his reaction makes me laugh so hard that I kind of enjoy turning on the vacuum just to watch him bolt out of sitting position and, without turning around, crawl impossibly fast to the furthest possible point in the room. Then he spins around, deer-in-headlights-style, and warily watches the vacuum, his face teetering on the brink of terror.

And just today I gave him some stainless steel bowls to play with thinking that the resonate clanging sound they made when a plastic ring is dropped into them would fascinate Sawyer. But as soon as I left him alone on the floor with the bowls he melted into a puddle of tears and came crawling to me giving the bowls a good, wide berth.

But, the biggest news is that he has started standing on his own and just the other day he took his first two steps toward Scott. I got him to repeat the action the next day by holding out a shiny silver calculator. (recall that I encouraged Sawyer to crawl using my cell phone. its the digital age, people).

We FINALLY booked a ticket for Justin and he will be out here from June 19 to August 8. We are desperately trying to get the upstairs ready for him. When we moved we put all the boxes up there and the place has been the catch all for everything miscellaneous. There's camp and about 100 other things to figure out before he gets here, but I know his little brother will be thrilled to have a playmate.