Tuesday, March 17, 2009
I started this yesterday - a fact that will quickly become apparent.
Happy St. Patty's Day, drunkards! My little Irishman celebrated by hop-stepping right over his designated nap time, collapsing in a heap of curses and grumbles 3 hours later. (Trust me, he wasn't the only one cursing and grumbling.) But instead of taking this opportunity to catch up with chores, I'm ignoring Dish Mountain to play catch up. Sit back and crack open an imaginary cold one, won't you?
The boy is halfway through his 14th month. I think this might just be my all-time favorite age. We spend most of our days hugging (a sentence that's sure to haunt him come middle school). He's at that magical age where he's still too giggly-nervous about independence to push me away (my knees are the greatest place ever) but he doesn't need me 24/7. And I love that he spends most of his time delighted. Getting blocks to fit together is still cause for joy and "no" hasn't entered his vocabulary - yet. There are definitely some Baby Jerk moments but for the most part I'm just trying to soak up the love. I know full-well when he hits 3 those hugs will go bye-bye...
Sorry things have been a little drafty around here. I've been trying to make money by writing for the glossies which ain't as easy as my ego thought it would be. So far I've had one Yes that morphed into a No, followed by a whole lot of crickets. You'd think I'd be used to this by now, being an actor and all. My life is spent working really hard for nothing. But with acting, it's easy to assume you didn't get it because you didn't look good or sleep with the right person. With this, it's all you.
Harrumph. Let's get back to the baby, shall we?
I know it's super annoying when people talk about how awesome their baby is but seriously, this boy is so awesome. I get such a kick out of watching his brain work. The fact that he knows which shoes go on which feet (the boy is OBSESSED with his orange Crocs. Unfortunately he was cursed with a case of sweatfoot which becomes quite pronounced when encased in rubber shoes) and the names of all the Muppets. (He can't say them but he points.) Yes, I've totally caved when it comes to TV. I was so high and mighty with my anti-Elmo diatribes and "No TV 'Til 3" but dude, sometimes I need a break. It's not much of one - we don't have a high chair or a playpen so he still requires watching - but at least he stays still long enough for me to breathe.
I've started Netflixing Sesame Street "Old School" (I'm ashamed to say how long it took me to get that joke) which is awesome. It's the first few episodes - the ones that are now deemed inappropriate for today's child. I'm on the 2nd episode and so far they've gone through two Gordons, an orange (!!!) Oscar, a pin-headed (and seemingly brain damanged) Big Bird, and a deep voiced, New Yawky Earnie. Craziness. I'm holding off on the shows I deem annoying (Dora, I'm talking to you) but I don't promise that the old Electric Company won't make an appearance.
The boy almost took his first steps yesterday. Of course they weren't to his father or me, but to a trio of yapping Corgis in the lobby. He's walking beautifully when I hold his hands and if he's holding on to something he practically scrambles, but he's still balking about making the Big Leap. It's coming though, I can feel it. And when it does I will never pee in peace again.
He also said Mama for the first time! Up until now we've had a lot of muh-muh-muhs - close but no cigar. But the other day Matt got him to say a real, live "mama" and oh man, he was soooo proud. We've only heard it a handful - he's stubborn about performing on cue - but I tear up every time.