Since Ivan has started walking, he become quite intrigued by the outdoors. As soon as he see someone open the porch door, he materializes in front of it, regardless of where he just was or what he was doing......and throws a temper tantrum if he's not allowed out.
He loves to be on the porch. And once on the porch he make a beeline for the door to go out in the back yard.
In the back yard, he likes to sit under the holly tree, and poke the little red holly berries. He's fascinated by them.
We also take him up to the flowers to smell them. He thinks that's funny.
When we're out walking in the park, he goes to dandelions and touch them. He also thinks it's funny when we blow danelion seeds. He tries to blow them himself as well.
On our porch, two other fascinating things are:
- there is a "hole" in the brick facade of our house. He likes to take my finger and stick it in the hole. (He seems to be fascinated by holes in general -- ie things to stick his fingers into -- such as the hole previous owners drilled on our hardwood floors to pass wiring through the floorboards)
- getting things out of the recycling bin (which, of course, I try to stop because it's kind of gross)
Saturday, April 26, 2008
The Almost Nanny Share
Back in late March, early April, I decided it was due time to start looking for an alternate part time daycare solution.
Several things conspired at once:
- Ivan started to get really social and interested in other kids, so we decided he’d benefit from being around kids
- It would be good to put him in daycare and set him up for when the second baby arrives
- It would give my dad some free time for himself
- I would not have to with my parents all the time, every day and endure various daily nagging minutia, most of which is not related to Ivan’s care
Just as I started thinking these thoughts, we came across a flier in the neighborhood. A family was looking to share their nanny. The family they had shared the nanny with had gotten a spot in a daycare of their chose. So the nanny was free.
I jumped at the opportunity and immediately called the family over that weekend. On Monday morning, I went to check out the situation – the family, the child, the nanny.
The location was perfect – right on my path to the metro (the idea was I would drop off Mr. Meh on the way to work. )
The whole scenario seemed to be ideal and easily attainable. Like the whole thing just perfectly fell into my lap.
The family was nice. They might have been a bit older than us, or not. But in any case they seemed very put together. In a nicely renovated house (the kitchen in their circa 1940s old cape cod, was 21st century updated – stainless steel appliances, marble countertops, new cabinets). Tidy and decorated. Not like our house, with good bones, but definitely decades of tear and fray that we have been too lazy and unable to afford to renovate. With nice furniture. It looked as if Pottery Barn had just finished a catalogue shoot in there. The woman, the mom, was nice. Very pleasant, very put together. Gave off a Bethesda, pseudo-waspy, all American vibe.
Their toddler daughter was the perfect shade of a blond, adorable poster girl for Pottery Barn Kids.
I was friendly and pleasant. I thought I looked good – was on my way to work. But still I felt a bit shabby compared to them. A bit inferior. As if we were just not their class. Don’t know whether the feeling was subjective or objective.
The woman said there was another family with two kids interested in the share. If they worked out , they’d take them over me since I was just interested in having Ivan share the nanny 2 days a week. She said she’d call back to let me know if a week or so. I never heard from her again.
The whole scenario seemed too perfect and easy and ultimately too good to be true. Of course, it didn't work out.
But now, I was on a mission. I checked out DC urban moms, a listserve for the local mom community. There was a topic: nanny issues….etc. Who knew it would be so easy. There were several families in the neighborhood looking to share their nanny. I was surprised there would be so much supply and demand. I contacted three numbers. Never heard back from one. The second one’s nanny worked 9-4, too late to start and too early to pick him up, and besides the family was in the neighborood behind us (i.e. further away from downtown), which meant they weren’t on my metro route, nor was their house walkable from ours. Scratch that option.
The third option sounded promising. Equally promising as the first family I visited. An 18 month-old boy. The house was on a slight detour to the metro. The nanny was from Togo. A francophone nanny. I liked that idea. Ivan getting his first French exposure. The start of him being trilingual. An opportunity for me to practice French. I even started practicing just preparing to go and meet the family and the nanny.
I got quite excited. This will work out, I thought. It will just be perfect. Well, it wasn’t and I partially sabotaged it.
What when wrong:
I got so enamored by the idea that the reality brought me down a bit. The mom was nice. My age. Looked like someone I could be friends with (and I’m always on a perennial friend lookout). The house was old and not really that well renovated. It looked a bit shabby and unkept. Actually a bit too unkept for my taste. The dining room was messy—papers everywhere. I guess it doubled as a office. Stuff on the table. The kitchen sink and counter had stuff everywhere (and my first rule of housekeeping is to keep the kitchen meticulously clean. It’s a bit of an obsession). The carpet needed a vacuuming. I actually started thinking, “can’t they vacuum the carpet. How often do they vacuum the carpet”. They had a cat so there was cat hair. Which was fine. Our house is full of dog hair. But I try to vacuum. (Do others think my house is that shabby and unkept?, I secretly wondered. My mom did notice that last time Rita and Sanjoy visited that they wouldn’t sit on the porch sofa (full of MP hair. We got used to it by now) And Rita kept brushing off Maya everything she’d fall down. Was it MP hair??)
Also, the boy was sick. He had snot coming out of his nose. Which is fine. But there was a huge bugger under his nose . “Can someone body wipe the bugger of the kid’s nose?” I was screaming to myself. It was really distracting.
The nanny seemed cheerful and nice in her 30s.
Despite my reservations about the house, I thought we’d give it a try. I liked the woman and the nanny, and thought I should keep my OCD in check and keep my standards low and not to judge others housekeeping style.
So the following day I brought Andy and Ivan to check out the situation. Ivan went straight to play with the boy, grabbing his toys. Reaching for a sippy cup on a side table. Grabbing the sippy cup, putting it in his mouth. (Of course, he came down with a cold a few days later.)
Andy liked the situation.
But I got red flags. I wasn’t clear on the story, but the nanny also had a toddler, who was back in Togo being cared for by her mother. Would this fact, that she had a child the same age, and the ache for that child make her a better nanny or a spiteful nanny (the ache for the child)? I wasn’t sure. I couldn’t figure out how to pry more information. With time, I thought.
Then there was the issue of money. They wanted $13 per hour. For a nanny share it seemed pricey. I chickened out a bit, knowing that we can’t afford that (literally don’t have that money) until we get raises or I land the ever-expecting promotion (still waiting) or a new job, at which time the extra cash I calculated I’d get per month, I would just fork over to the nanny.
So I stalled. Told the woman I’d get back to her in a day or two, but stretched it to a week. Then I explained the money issue. We decided that perhaps we should do it one day a week to start with for $11 per hour. She was going to check with the nanny if that was suitable.
But there was still the issue of what the nanny would do the remainder of the days. (This woman had the nanny for two days. I wanted to share those two days, which left the nanny needing to find a gig the other three days)
In the end it didn’t work out. The woman called saying the nanny found a full time job. Which is for the best.
I still haven't gotten a promotion/new job, which is really stifling our extra expenditure plans.
I got chicken feet because I didn’t want to let even be taken care of by someone else. I also decided that I’d rather put him in day care (the question now is family-based or institutional?) so he can interact with other kids . There is no part time option, but I could always just chose not to send him t daycare everyday. Price-wise it still comes out cheaper than a nanny share.
For now I stalled the process. I need to restart it again soon. I want to send Ivan to daycare in the fall. And I’m apparently already too late. There lists, waitlists and deposits. I should’ve put myself on one of the lists the second I thought about getting pregnant.
But I still have that woman’s phone number. In case I want to call her up for a playdate. I still think she’d be someone I’d like to befriend. Maybe I can call her to arrange a playdate in the near future (how suburban of me).
Several things conspired at once:
- Ivan started to get really social and interested in other kids, so we decided he’d benefit from being around kids
- It would be good to put him in daycare and set him up for when the second baby arrives
- It would give my dad some free time for himself
- I would not have to with my parents all the time, every day and endure various daily nagging minutia, most of which is not related to Ivan’s care
Just as I started thinking these thoughts, we came across a flier in the neighborhood. A family was looking to share their nanny. The family they had shared the nanny with had gotten a spot in a daycare of their chose. So the nanny was free.
I jumped at the opportunity and immediately called the family over that weekend. On Monday morning, I went to check out the situation – the family, the child, the nanny.
The location was perfect – right on my path to the metro (the idea was I would drop off Mr. Meh on the way to work. )
The whole scenario seemed to be ideal and easily attainable. Like the whole thing just perfectly fell into my lap.
The family was nice. They might have been a bit older than us, or not. But in any case they seemed very put together. In a nicely renovated house (the kitchen in their circa 1940s old cape cod, was 21st century updated – stainless steel appliances, marble countertops, new cabinets). Tidy and decorated. Not like our house, with good bones, but definitely decades of tear and fray that we have been too lazy and unable to afford to renovate. With nice furniture. It looked as if Pottery Barn had just finished a catalogue shoot in there. The woman, the mom, was nice. Very pleasant, very put together. Gave off a Bethesda, pseudo-waspy, all American vibe.
Their toddler daughter was the perfect shade of a blond, adorable poster girl for Pottery Barn Kids.
I was friendly and pleasant. I thought I looked good – was on my way to work. But still I felt a bit shabby compared to them. A bit inferior. As if we were just not their class. Don’t know whether the feeling was subjective or objective.
The woman said there was another family with two kids interested in the share. If they worked out , they’d take them over me since I was just interested in having Ivan share the nanny 2 days a week. She said she’d call back to let me know if a week or so. I never heard from her again.
The whole scenario seemed too perfect and easy and ultimately too good to be true. Of course, it didn't work out.
But now, I was on a mission. I checked out DC urban moms, a listserve for the local mom community. There was a topic: nanny issues….etc. Who knew it would be so easy. There were several families in the neighborhood looking to share their nanny. I was surprised there would be so much supply and demand. I contacted three numbers. Never heard back from one. The second one’s nanny worked 9-4, too late to start and too early to pick him up, and besides the family was in the neighborood behind us (i.e. further away from downtown), which meant they weren’t on my metro route, nor was their house walkable from ours. Scratch that option.
The third option sounded promising. Equally promising as the first family I visited. An 18 month-old boy. The house was on a slight detour to the metro. The nanny was from Togo. A francophone nanny. I liked that idea. Ivan getting his first French exposure. The start of him being trilingual. An opportunity for me to practice French. I even started practicing just preparing to go and meet the family and the nanny.
I got quite excited. This will work out, I thought. It will just be perfect. Well, it wasn’t and I partially sabotaged it.
What when wrong:
I got so enamored by the idea that the reality brought me down a bit. The mom was nice. My age. Looked like someone I could be friends with (and I’m always on a perennial friend lookout). The house was old and not really that well renovated. It looked a bit shabby and unkept. Actually a bit too unkept for my taste. The dining room was messy—papers everywhere. I guess it doubled as a office. Stuff on the table. The kitchen sink and counter had stuff everywhere (and my first rule of housekeeping is to keep the kitchen meticulously clean. It’s a bit of an obsession). The carpet needed a vacuuming. I actually started thinking, “can’t they vacuum the carpet. How often do they vacuum the carpet”. They had a cat so there was cat hair. Which was fine. Our house is full of dog hair. But I try to vacuum. (Do others think my house is that shabby and unkept?, I secretly wondered. My mom did notice that last time Rita and Sanjoy visited that they wouldn’t sit on the porch sofa (full of MP hair. We got used to it by now) And Rita kept brushing off Maya everything she’d fall down. Was it MP hair??)
Also, the boy was sick. He had snot coming out of his nose. Which is fine. But there was a huge bugger under his nose . “Can someone body wipe the bugger of the kid’s nose?” I was screaming to myself. It was really distracting.
The nanny seemed cheerful and nice in her 30s.
Despite my reservations about the house, I thought we’d give it a try. I liked the woman and the nanny, and thought I should keep my OCD in check and keep my standards low and not to judge others housekeeping style.
So the following day I brought Andy and Ivan to check out the situation. Ivan went straight to play with the boy, grabbing his toys. Reaching for a sippy cup on a side table. Grabbing the sippy cup, putting it in his mouth. (Of course, he came down with a cold a few days later.)
Andy liked the situation.
But I got red flags. I wasn’t clear on the story, but the nanny also had a toddler, who was back in Togo being cared for by her mother. Would this fact, that she had a child the same age, and the ache for that child make her a better nanny or a spiteful nanny (the ache for the child)? I wasn’t sure. I couldn’t figure out how to pry more information. With time, I thought.
Then there was the issue of money. They wanted $13 per hour. For a nanny share it seemed pricey. I chickened out a bit, knowing that we can’t afford that (literally don’t have that money) until we get raises or I land the ever-expecting promotion (still waiting) or a new job, at which time the extra cash I calculated I’d get per month, I would just fork over to the nanny.
So I stalled. Told the woman I’d get back to her in a day or two, but stretched it to a week. Then I explained the money issue. We decided that perhaps we should do it one day a week to start with for $11 per hour. She was going to check with the nanny if that was suitable.
But there was still the issue of what the nanny would do the remainder of the days. (This woman had the nanny for two days. I wanted to share those two days, which left the nanny needing to find a gig the other three days)
In the end it didn’t work out. The woman called saying the nanny found a full time job. Which is for the best.
I still haven't gotten a promotion/new job, which is really stifling our extra expenditure plans.
I got chicken feet because I didn’t want to let even be taken care of by someone else. I also decided that I’d rather put him in day care (the question now is family-based or institutional?) so he can interact with other kids . There is no part time option, but I could always just chose not to send him t daycare everyday. Price-wise it still comes out cheaper than a nanny share.
For now I stalled the process. I need to restart it again soon. I want to send Ivan to daycare in the fall. And I’m apparently already too late. There lists, waitlists and deposits. I should’ve put myself on one of the lists the second I thought about getting pregnant.
But I still have that woman’s phone number. In case I want to call her up for a playdate. I still think she’d be someone I’d like to befriend. Maybe I can call her to arrange a playdate in the near future (how suburban of me).
Friday, April 25, 2008
Vocabulary
In addition to the countless intonations of mama, I think Mr. Meh has added a few new words to his extensive vocabulary of noises, mouth farts and raspberries and the likes.
Dadda -- refers to daddy
Ouhouh -- we think it refers to dogs. He used to say "baba," which Andy thought referred to Mariposa (ie dog) but I haven't heard him use it lately
Mloh -- it would appear that "mloh" -- which has a distinct l and o sound, quite different from mama -- refers to milk. I assume that letters in milk, or mlijeko in Croatian, must be hard to pronounce. I also noticed him blurt out "mloh" as he was making a bee line for an empty milk bottle.
Ne -- this is a new word, I discerned yesterday. Ne is no in Croatian. Ne, is obvioulsy used quite a lot when talking to Mr. Meh because 2/3 of the things he tries to touch and do starts with "ne, don't to that..." I'm surprised he didn't pick up this one earlier.
I also know he understands "pupak," which is belly button in Croatian. He knows eyes, ears, mouth and teeth in both English and Croatian. He also knows "knock, knock"
There is also "dya, dya, dya, dya,..." which I have no clue what it means.
And the rest of the vocabulary is all mama.
At first I was in heaven that he learned to say mama first. (Some babies say dada, or something else first.) But then when I realized that mama means everything from cell phones and phones to random objects around the house to me it made me concerned, especially the phone connection. Since I spend so much time at work and call him several times a day (which he never wants to babble back to me but just press buttons on the phone) does he really associate me with the phone? Could I be replaced by a phone? I know that it's a silly thought but a few months back when I'd get down for spending so much time at work and sometimes not making it home in time to see him off to bed, I did wonder.....
Dadda -- refers to daddy
Ouhouh -- we think it refers to dogs. He used to say "baba," which Andy thought referred to Mariposa (ie dog) but I haven't heard him use it lately
Mloh -- it would appear that "mloh" -- which has a distinct l and o sound, quite different from mama -- refers to milk. I assume that letters in milk, or mlijeko in Croatian, must be hard to pronounce. I also noticed him blurt out "mloh" as he was making a bee line for an empty milk bottle.
Ne -- this is a new word, I discerned yesterday. Ne is no in Croatian. Ne, is obvioulsy used quite a lot when talking to Mr. Meh because 2/3 of the things he tries to touch and do starts with "ne, don't to that..." I'm surprised he didn't pick up this one earlier.
I also know he understands "pupak," which is belly button in Croatian. He knows eyes, ears, mouth and teeth in both English and Croatian. He also knows "knock, knock"
There is also "dya, dya, dya, dya,..." which I have no clue what it means.
And the rest of the vocabulary is all mama.
At first I was in heaven that he learned to say mama first. (Some babies say dada, or something else first.) But then when I realized that mama means everything from cell phones and phones to random objects around the house to me it made me concerned, especially the phone connection. Since I spend so much time at work and call him several times a day (which he never wants to babble back to me but just press buttons on the phone) does he really associate me with the phone? Could I be replaced by a phone? I know that it's a silly thought but a few months back when I'd get down for spending so much time at work and sometimes not making it home in time to see him off to bed, I did wonder.....
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Playing SAHM (housewife) - pretend play
I've been on a two-week vacation since Monday. All alone at home with Mr. Meh and MP. It's been wonderful. Like maternity leave all over again, except the weather is nicer and I'm busy in a different way. Mr. Meh is fun and very interactive now unlike last year when he was a cuddly little newborn sack who wanted me to hold him/carry him all day long. (Actually he still wants to be carried a lot. Except that now he's much heavier and demands to be picked up. Then he extends his arm infront of him as if to command "walk me this way so I can see....")
It feel like a very idyllic, housewife-y situation. The house is clean and I keep it tidy during the day. I did the laundry, cleaned the porch, etc...all sorts of things I usually do at night. I even cooked dinner. (Yeah for me. Cooking dinner is usually Andy's domain. I'm a more willing and much more efficient kitchen cleaner. And he gets a bigger kick out of cooking and his dinners are usually more imaginative than mine, and more importantly he gets home before I do).
There is a good pace to the day (well, all four of them so far) and it's a nice break from work. (Although I've been failing miserably this week not to check work email at night and respond to some key ones. I've also been doing a different work task each night so far -- ie finishing up work that I didn't get to wrap up last week. But I'm done now, so I should really stop. Go through webmail withdrawal. Be out of the work loop. Sounds easy, but it's harder to implement. And it's just so darn easy to log onto webmail when I'm already at a computer)
The idyllic version: In the morning we all get up around 7 after a good night sleep and see daddy off to work (we also stay in the bathroom with daddy while he takes a shower, brushes his teeth and shaves -- we brush our teeth at the same time). Then we eat breakfast (oatmeal with apples and milk, a piece of fruit and some bread that Mama eats). Then we play until 10 or so when we go down for a nap. After the nap, around noon or so, we eat again and then go out to stroll around to the park, playground and the store. We come back around 3 and taken a nap until after 4. Then we eat a bit again and toot around on the porch and the yard until 5:30 when Daddy returns. He plays with us, feeds us and bathe us around 6:30. Then mama takes over after the bath to put us down for the night.
This idyllic version has really been working out only today (and it's only 4 pm which means the day is still in progress and can go awry).
What's happened each day so far:
Monday: it rained all day. We were cooped in the house. Ivan wanted to be carried around all day. He didn't really nap well but was cranky all day. I couldn't wait for Andy to come home.
Tuesday, Wednesday: Much better, especially Wednesday.
On Tuesday we went for a stroll down Sligo Creek. We swung on the swings a bit and then continued walking on the trail towards Colesville Road. I brought food for him, thinking I'd try my luck at feeding him lunch while out (he's gotten too finnicky and busy to eat lately, which is a bit unnerving, but that's a different story). My daydreams of a little impromptu picknick were swiftly grounded when the eating derailed into a messy afair. Again this is a different story, which I should write up under the title "Messy and Finnicky Toddler Eating, How to Cope if You're Squemish and Not Tolerant of Messy Eating." When we got home from the stroll and took the afternoon nap, we woke up crying and cranky. The next couple of hours (between 3 - 5) were a bit trying. He wanted me to carry him non stop so he can see the sights, which is a problem since my upper body strength is really non existent, so I put on some Andes music and tried to dance him around. It worked more or less. Then Daddy came home and he took over until it was bed time.
Wednesday was a variation on the theme, except I took him to downtown Silver Spring to the stores. He was excellent at the shoe store, less interested in being dragged to Ann Taylor Loft. He, like all little kids, was mesmerized by the fountain. He stared and watched it and walked around it for quite some time. (I remember two years ago and last year, Andy and I would always comment how intrigued and hyptonized kids are by the fountain.
And today was the best. We went to the story time at the library (finally) and Whole Foods and the playground where we ate our lunch (yogurt and banana) and then came home and slept....
It feel like a very idyllic, housewife-y situation. The house is clean and I keep it tidy during the day. I did the laundry, cleaned the porch, etc...all sorts of things I usually do at night. I even cooked dinner. (Yeah for me. Cooking dinner is usually Andy's domain. I'm a more willing and much more efficient kitchen cleaner. And he gets a bigger kick out of cooking and his dinners are usually more imaginative than mine, and more importantly he gets home before I do).
There is a good pace to the day (well, all four of them so far) and it's a nice break from work. (Although I've been failing miserably this week not to check work email at night and respond to some key ones. I've also been doing a different work task each night so far -- ie finishing up work that I didn't get to wrap up last week. But I'm done now, so I should really stop. Go through webmail withdrawal. Be out of the work loop. Sounds easy, but it's harder to implement. And it's just so darn easy to log onto webmail when I'm already at a computer)
The idyllic version: In the morning we all get up around 7 after a good night sleep and see daddy off to work (we also stay in the bathroom with daddy while he takes a shower, brushes his teeth and shaves -- we brush our teeth at the same time). Then we eat breakfast (oatmeal with apples and milk, a piece of fruit and some bread that Mama eats). Then we play until 10 or so when we go down for a nap. After the nap, around noon or so, we eat again and then go out to stroll around to the park, playground and the store. We come back around 3 and taken a nap until after 4. Then we eat a bit again and toot around on the porch and the yard until 5:30 when Daddy returns. He plays with us, feeds us and bathe us around 6:30. Then mama takes over after the bath to put us down for the night.
This idyllic version has really been working out only today (and it's only 4 pm which means the day is still in progress and can go awry).
What's happened each day so far:
Monday: it rained all day. We were cooped in the house. Ivan wanted to be carried around all day. He didn't really nap well but was cranky all day. I couldn't wait for Andy to come home.
Tuesday, Wednesday: Much better, especially Wednesday.
On Tuesday we went for a stroll down Sligo Creek. We swung on the swings a bit and then continued walking on the trail towards Colesville Road. I brought food for him, thinking I'd try my luck at feeding him lunch while out (he's gotten too finnicky and busy to eat lately, which is a bit unnerving, but that's a different story). My daydreams of a little impromptu picknick were swiftly grounded when the eating derailed into a messy afair. Again this is a different story, which I should write up under the title "Messy and Finnicky Toddler Eating, How to Cope if You're Squemish and Not Tolerant of Messy Eating." When we got home from the stroll and took the afternoon nap, we woke up crying and cranky. The next couple of hours (between 3 - 5) were a bit trying. He wanted me to carry him non stop so he can see the sights, which is a problem since my upper body strength is really non existent, so I put on some Andes music and tried to dance him around. It worked more or less. Then Daddy came home and he took over until it was bed time.
Wednesday was a variation on the theme, except I took him to downtown Silver Spring to the stores. He was excellent at the shoe store, less interested in being dragged to Ann Taylor Loft. He, like all little kids, was mesmerized by the fountain. He stared and watched it and walked around it for quite some time. (I remember two years ago and last year, Andy and I would always comment how intrigued and hyptonized kids are by the fountain.
And today was the best. We went to the story time at the library (finally) and Whole Foods and the playground where we ate our lunch (yogurt and banana) and then came home and slept....
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Toddlerhood
So much progress in this last month that I haven't written about. Mr. Meh is definitely no longer a baby, but a toddler. A toddler too busy to have his diapers put on, too busy to eat, too busy to sit with me for a second for a cuddle.
It all started about 2-3 weeks ago now when he started to walk -- ie let go of the furniture. Instead, he found support in a broom, which he used as a staff for about a week, and still likes to swing around if he sees the broom laying around. (Of course, Mariposa gets frightened. She thinks he's chasing her around with the broom. And the broom is only a few notches lower than the obnoxious yet ubitiqous vaccum cleaner).
I barely have time to put diapers on him after bathing him. He wants to roll over and slide off the bed.....For any diaper change, I still use the window trick -- plop him up against the window in the spare bedroom. While he's oohing and aahing and dropping stuff under the bed (which he's stopped doing as much as he did before. I guess the novelty has worn off), I take off diapers, clean him and put a new pair on. And then he's on the go. Slides off the bed and make a bee line for the mirror in his bedroom to raise his hand and giggle and say "ahhhh" to himself. It's funny.
The way he walks, toddling left and right, he's just like the diapers commercials. So cute.
While he's walking, he prefers to have something in his hands -- something in each hand. Lately it's been his shoes. He loves those shoes. He tries to hug them and kiss them (just like his teddy bears), which of course is gross because the shoes are shoes. Anyway, he put a shoe in each hand, and if a bottle of milk is handy then he grips the bottle with his teeth and off he goes.....walking toward the mirror, or toward our bedroom.
He also like to hold onto my finger while walking. I, of course, find that so endearing.....It's just like I've been dreaming it. He and I walking together, dawdling slowly, him holding my finger. (Ah what type of romance. Nothing anyone things about until the baby arrives, and now it's the best love affair of my life. Butterflies in my stomach and all. Who could've known.)
He's so busy now that as soon as I get him out of the crib in the morning, he's on the go........walking, walking someplace. He's too busy to eat. It's too much hassle putting him in the high chair, it's much easier to follow him around with a spoon and bits of food and crossing my fingers that he'll eat something.
As walking arrived, so has the exertion of will. He has a will and he's determined to get his way -- get to do what he's aiming to do. If not his way, then the temper tantrum way. It caught us by surprise. The temper tantrums started literaly overnight. We looked at it each and tought to ourselves this past weekend 'who is this child." The previous weekend I worked all weekend so I didn't see him a lot and I worked long hours the preceding two weeks so some days I didn't even see him before he went to bed for the night. (Bad mommy). But during that two week span, he changed from a baby to the toddler.
I'm on vacation this week and next week. I'm so looking foward to it, spending all my time with Mr. Meh.
It all started about 2-3 weeks ago now when he started to walk -- ie let go of the furniture. Instead, he found support in a broom, which he used as a staff for about a week, and still likes to swing around if he sees the broom laying around. (Of course, Mariposa gets frightened. She thinks he's chasing her around with the broom. And the broom is only a few notches lower than the obnoxious yet ubitiqous vaccum cleaner).
I barely have time to put diapers on him after bathing him. He wants to roll over and slide off the bed.....For any diaper change, I still use the window trick -- plop him up against the window in the spare bedroom. While he's oohing and aahing and dropping stuff under the bed (which he's stopped doing as much as he did before. I guess the novelty has worn off), I take off diapers, clean him and put a new pair on. And then he's on the go. Slides off the bed and make a bee line for the mirror in his bedroom to raise his hand and giggle and say "ahhhh" to himself. It's funny.
The way he walks, toddling left and right, he's just like the diapers commercials. So cute.
While he's walking, he prefers to have something in his hands -- something in each hand. Lately it's been his shoes. He loves those shoes. He tries to hug them and kiss them (just like his teddy bears), which of course is gross because the shoes are shoes. Anyway, he put a shoe in each hand, and if a bottle of milk is handy then he grips the bottle with his teeth and off he goes.....walking toward the mirror, or toward our bedroom.
He also like to hold onto my finger while walking. I, of course, find that so endearing.....It's just like I've been dreaming it. He and I walking together, dawdling slowly, him holding my finger. (Ah what type of romance. Nothing anyone things about until the baby arrives, and now it's the best love affair of my life. Butterflies in my stomach and all. Who could've known.)
He's so busy now that as soon as I get him out of the crib in the morning, he's on the go........walking, walking someplace. He's too busy to eat. It's too much hassle putting him in the high chair, it's much easier to follow him around with a spoon and bits of food and crossing my fingers that he'll eat something.
As walking arrived, so has the exertion of will. He has a will and he's determined to get his way -- get to do what he's aiming to do. If not his way, then the temper tantrum way. It caught us by surprise. The temper tantrums started literaly overnight. We looked at it each and tought to ourselves this past weekend 'who is this child." The previous weekend I worked all weekend so I didn't see him a lot and I worked long hours the preceding two weeks so some days I didn't even see him before he went to bed for the night. (Bad mommy). But during that two week span, he changed from a baby to the toddler.
I'm on vacation this week and next week. I'm so looking foward to it, spending all my time with Mr. Meh.
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