No, no, no. Nope. How’d we get here already? You’re telling me that in one month — a mere four weeks! — I’ll have a one-year-old?! A toddler?! Impossible!
Height & Weight: nothing official until his birthday (!) but he feels heavier and looks taller. He’s still a stringbean though.
Likes: If I think it’s disgusting, Gus thinks it’s hilarious. So anything that warrants what I’d call my “blech” face, the child cannot stop laughing. And he’s in luck, because as he continues to try to feed himself, and graciously shares everything with his mama, mushy wet food gets on everything, and I make that face a lot.
Dislikes: Periodically, diaper changes are still the worst. But really, it’s a lot better, as long as I plan ahead and distract him with a toy. Unfortunately, now if he gets ahold of some thing he shouldn’t have and we take it away, oooooooh boy.
Sleep: Out of nowhere, we’re back to sleeping about 10+ hours straight. Every so often he’ll wake himself up because he’s talking or crawling or standing (almost always between 4–5 a.m.) and need some nursing to settle back down. They’re exactly the sort of nights we had right before he started crawling, so I suspect walking is not too far away.
Eating: It’s officially impossible to feed this child anything (aside from yogurt and oatmeal) with a spoon. If he can’t feed himself, he is not interested. So we’ve been giving him more and more finger foods, like tater tots, pieces of chicken, meatballs, scrambled eggs (he was not impressed) and pancakes in addition to his Cheerios, veggie straws and avocado. I’ve officially created a French Fry Monster, who won’t eat anything else until all visible fries are gone. And he still really likes his fruit/veggie pouches, as long as there are no spoons involved. He’s down to nursing five times a day now.
Clothes: 12–18M in length, but he’s still got a 6–9M waist (I told you. Stringbean.) Dressing him is becoming a bit of a challenge.
New Tricks: Every day this month, it’s been something new, it’s unbelievable! Clapping, high fives, waving all the time, clicking his tongue, playing peekaboo, siting on the floor and using his feet to spin in circles, standing independently, imitating sounds and expressions, AND climbing the stairs. So, basically we’re exhausted, and my baby is a genius.
Teeth: Extra drool and even more chewing than I thought possible, but still no more. Tooth tally: 2.
Nicknames: Rocket Man, Oatmeal Face, Dancing Machine, Crabman.
Mommy & Daddy: I’ve experimented with a little hidden dairy (breads, baked goods, marinades, etc) and fingers crossed! so far, so good. I’m trying to phase things back in really slowly, and I get a little overwhelmed when I think about all the things I
need want to eat. Pizza! Pasta! Ice cream! A barrel of queso! More ice cream!! This is super exciting for me, because oooohhhhh how I’ve missed this deliciousness!, but also for Mike who finally gets to eat something other than McDonalds, Subway or Qdoba when we’re in a hurry (or I’m feeling lazy, which is pretty often). First birthday planning is in full swing, and I really, really hope I can eat some damn ice cream (to celebrate, you know, a year without ice cream.)
It’s finally starting to feel like fall, my favorite time of year. But, really, isn’t it everyone’s? I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who hates fall. That’s like hating dessert. Or getting angry when you find money in the pocket of that coat you haven’t worn in months. Weirdos.
Speaking of fall, I’m on the hunt for a pair of over-the-knee boots (because I’m tall, and I love boots, and I think I can pull them off) but the search is a little difficult thanks to my slightly wider calves. I keep coming back to these, but then I can’t quite seem to pull the trigger. Thankfully Brittany Gibbons is willing to try stuff on, and report back to us.
I want to eat all these things. Don’t tell my nutritionist.
Except for these pancakes, because they’re too amazing to eat.
I love Mindy Kaling for a variety of reasons — the top being: 1) she’s hilarious and smart, and 2) she’s shaped like a normal human woman. Thanks to Worn on TV, you can wear what she wears! (Assuming you have a fair amount of money to burn.)
All of these quotes are good, but (surprise, surprise!) this one is my favorite:
I talk in my sleep, a lot.
And yes, sometimes it’s random nonsense (“rainbow sack, double blueberries!” or “that briefcase is hilARious!”) but more often than not, it’s totally clear and concise. Mike usually can’t tell right away if I’m awake or not.
Mike always asks me if I remember what I said the next morning. Normally I wake up in the middle of one of our “conversations” and realize I’m asleep, (so I do remember) and apologize, because I’m bossy and stubborn, even when I’m unconscious.
Like the time I got up, convinced the dog was stuck under our bed (even though she sleeps in her crate in another room) sat down and started patting the floor, saying, “come on, puppy, you can do it!” while Mike was all WTF are you doing, dear?
“THE DOG IS TRAPPED! Why aren’t you helping me?! Can’t you hear her? COME HERE PUPPY! Ooohhhhh, I’m asleep? Oh, ok. Sorry.”
So last night, when Mike woke me up, because I was allegedly snoring, I was quick to prove him wrong.
“Babe, you’re snoring.”
“NOO. I’m not.”
“Umm, yeah you are, you woke me up.”
“No. I was totally silent. Zzzzzzzz.”
And while I do vaguely remember the brief conversation, I still maintain I wasn’t snoring. He must have dreampt it.
We’ll never know for sure.
I’m on a roll!
Yesterday Gus and I went to the zoo with my friend Julie and her son,
Little Richard Harry.
The boys had fun (I think? They waved and clapped a lot at least), Julie and I are now bffs with a giraffe, and it turns out Gus is terrified of roosters (who knew?!)
Also, Julie gave me an in-depth recap of The Rise of the Planet of the Apes, and then pointed out which chimps seemed most likely to revolt.
We went the the zoo a lot when I was a kid, and we always had our picture taken on the lion statues just inside the entrance.
My mother reminded me 700 times to take Gus’s picture on the lion.
And now I’m out of animal-themed day trips. We’ll just go back to our boring errands at Costco and Target.
This weekend we took Gus to the Aquarium for the first time.
He seemed to really enjoy himself (as much as a 10-month-old can, anyway) and he repeatedly tried to reach out and grab the fish, sharks, turtles, and jellyfish, etc. we saw while we were there.
I imagine at this age, trips like this are more fun for the parents. I know I got super excited when a giant sea turtle swam through the new reef exhibit, and when the dolphins splashed by a few feet away from us.
The highlight of our day though, was probably when I dumped a whole bowl of Maryland Crab Soup in my lap. All over my WHITE shorts.
Bright RED soup. Squishy vegetables all over me. Hot soup running down my leg, and into my shoe. I was understandably upset.
And Mike puts his hand on my shoulder and says, “Oh honey, don’t worry. We can get you more soup.”
It’s September, already? How did that happen? And why does it finally feel like summer, now?! And, oh my god, I ordered the baby’s first birthday party invitations. WHAT IS HAPPENING?!
I can’t drink pumpkin spice lattes (who would’ve guessed the syrup is full of dairy?!) and I can’t eat these caramels either (stupid cream and butter!) but they sure are pretty to look at.
Speaking of delicious things, Buzzfeed thinks it can guess your favorite food. (Spoiler alert: I got ice cream.)
I have tried again and again, unsuccessfully, to convince Mike we need a baby goat. He keeps saying no.
If I ever have a bigger house, with a bigger kitchen, and some extra walls, this is the first thing I’m buying.
And finally, I don’t care who you are, when someone proposes with 1001 hotdogs, YOU SAY YES.