To Simon at Fourteen Months

Just look at you!

Simon makes mischief of one kind and another in his Tata-made bear suit.

Our boy is no stranger to dirt. Here he is at the end of a serious puddle-ducking session.

Simon makes a drum out of everything, but this was just BEGGING FOR IT.

Your Papa and I are two of the happiest grown-ups you'll ever meet. We're also tired and exhausted much of the time. We knew we'd be busy your first year, but then Papa's work really picked up, and we're all so busy trying to take care of one another. You would be very busy no matter what; signing, speaking, laughing, making friends, playing and listening to music, knocking things over, celebrating your mealtimes. But these days, Zak and I are very busy too. And happy.... and tired.

You are transported when you see them.
It finally happened. You noticed that there are trucks and trains in the world and that they are the most fascinating things around. They are like dinosaurs that have not yet gone extinct. (You haven't yet learned about dinosaurs, but that's fine. One at a time.) When we were playing in the rain and puddles the other evening before dinner, you watched a train go by, as we have many times. We play at a playground and often walk on a path that are very close to the tracks. But for the first time, you watched the train go and then frantically signed "More! More!" the way you do when we play "Trot, trot to Boston" or feed you blueberries. You have joined the league of toddlers in earnest now, Simon. We are very proud.

...and by cats I mean seals.

Your aunt Jordanna tells a story about a woman who called the UW biology department to tell a story of microwaving a bee and bringing it back to life. (I know, I know... ask her to tell it, it's much funnier.) The woman started off by saying something like "I was feeding my cats, and by my cats, I mean my chickens..." This joke will never stop being funny to your Papa and me.

Today you and I were visiting with the harbor seals at the aquarium when you signed "Cat" over and over the same way you do when you see a cat. Later, when we visited the fur seals, you signed "cat" for the females and "dog" for the (ENORMOUS) males. This was a sign of great affection, because you love cats and dogs, but also this wonderful insight into how you categorize and sort things in your mind. For instance, you also ask us to "work" the guitar rather than "play" it. I also love that ways that similar (to you) signs become the same. You use virtually the same sign for banana, bread, and egg. We've discussed that you used to use the same sign for dog, bird, water and full diaper, but things have changed. You have different signs now for dog (patting your chest, which is similar to patting your thigh, which is part of the "real" sign) and water (one finger to your lips, which is close to three fingers to your lips). You still sign bird that way (it's really close) and you now say "Poop-uh" when you think you might have a full diaper.

You've moved on from the duh-duh-duh's to the buh-buh-buh's. You love talking about bubbles, balls, books and baths (which to someone else would sound like the same baby talk but to us are clear words). You call both your Papa and me "Baba" at this point, although the P's are sometimes reappearing in Papa's name. You say things like "kitchen" "blueberry" ("boob") "balloon" ("BOON!") and mimic much of what we say.

Morning Madness

We are morning people. If it were up to you (and on mornings like this one, when I felt a little under the weather and wanted a cup of tea and breakfast right away it kind of is) you'd be playing and talking before you even got out of your sleep sack and pj's as soon as you were done with our first nurse of the day. Today, you grinned at me, then toddled over to the music box your Grandpa bought you and turned it on. After a little dancing, you were ready to play with magnets for 10 minutes or so. When you were tiny, our friends visited an we thought 4 year old Cayden would enjoy some Magneatos, a toy I bought used for you because they were available, and I love them and knew you'd enjoy them in your later toddlerhood. Ever since we got them out for Cayden, though, you've been playing with them and by now you have a pretty good intuitive sense of magnetism...which makes you a genius.

In the morning we laugh, talk about our belly buttons, have more hugs and kisses than any other time of day, talk about Papa before he wakes up, read books, look out the window, dance and prepare breakfast. You are learning to really use a fork and spoon, by the way. We're all really impressed.

I should probably stop there.
Thanks for 14 months. I'll love you forever.

Trust

Recently I hired a stranger to watch my son. She was from a cool website that we had to pay, and she sounded great (the site calls references and interviews them and records the interview so that you can hear them). We were traveling to visit some friends, and wanted to go out, mostly after he'd gone to bed, so we hired this sitter to come over to our friends' house. It was kind of amazing to reflect on all the stranger's children I've watched, started watching when I was a very young teenager. Z and I thought hard about it and did our due diligence and then...

I was trusting the stranger with my only child.

My friends were trusting me to find someone who was safe to leave in their house.

Simon trusts all of the above... completely, about everything.

It all worked out. Simon really enjoyed his time with the sitter. (She came a couple of times and he got excited to see her each time.) We're home again, and he is learning (still/even more) to trust himself and his strong body. He can climb up the stairs to our third floor apartment. He can climb all over the place at the park. I like to think that he's making our trust of him and his baby judgement, his baby body part of himself.

These days he trusts us to read a book, turn on music, play a game, lift him up, put him down, give him food, hugs, kisses when he asks us to (through an amalgam of sign language, sounds, "words" and enthusiastic empathy). He trusts that when we do something he doesn't like, we'll eventually stop and we'll usually warn him first. It feels really good.

I'm constantly realizing how much faith I have in the world. I don't think I've got more than before (less, actually, because the stakes feel higher) but I'm more aware... when Simon was playing on a hanging bridge at the playground I didn't worry (after testing it) that it would fall. When he approaches another child, I imagine they probably won't damage one another (although some slight damage might occur). I don't worry he'll get disease by chewing wood chips, or tasting the handrail. I'm rewarded... Simon catches himself when he falls, mostly. He's had good luck playing with other people's dogs. It's been a safe, healthy fun year.

I worried that, well, that I would worry a lot more as a parent. In fact I resent it when people occasionally assume or imply that I make the choices I make out of fear, or worry or concern. I wondered why it mattered, but I guess I'm kind of happy to discover how much faith I've got in the world I'm raising my son within.

another beginning...

This year has been full of Zak and I saying to one another "Here we go... it all changes now... look out!"

Tonight was another of those moments. 

We have been signing to Simon since he was 3 months old or so. Starting with "Milk"and "diaper". Zak liked to use big strings of signs together and we often wondered what, if anything, he might pick up. (Experts recommend families starting with one and adding them slowly. This appears to be about helping the adults to be consistent and learn the signs. We had no problems with signing consistently, and knew quite a few signs already from my work with a child whose hearing was impaired, so we just had at it.

Simon first signed "milk"while he was nursing (which is when I would sign it to him). For a long while, he wouldn't sign "milk" when he wanted it, but if I guessed and signed it to him, when he was hungry he would smile, grab my signing hand and stuff it in his mouth. So, basically, he improvised his own sign for "HELL YES!" After awhile, he got tired of that, and has been "signing" milk, by tugging at my shirt and unsnapping my bra for the last few months. 

He learned "water"and signed it by opening and shutting his hand in front of his mouth, often while making a gurgly sound. We were ecstatic. Occasionally he has signed "Papa"and "Mama", although he can  now say those words. Very soon, the sign for water also meant bird, and full diaper. (We can show you the three signs and you can see how his sign is very close to water, bird and dirty.) then he generalized  from "bird"to "bird or dog". So, occasionally throughout the day, he'll sign this sign and we'll look around for context clues to tell us if he needs his diaper changed, is thirsty, or is thinking about a bird or a dog. 

He's really excited about dogs. He's been seeing them around our neighborhood and is big enough to walk over to them and pet them if the owner is cool with it. He always signs "bird" and then we sign "dog" back. For the most part, we've used ASL signs, but I have occasionally wished we'd used the "baby sign" for dog. ASL is to snap your fingers and slap your leg as if calling a dog, and baby sign is to stick out your tongue and pant. Since it'll be awhile before Simon can snap, I had been thinking this was a mistake.

Tonight we went out to dinner and saw a dog on the way home. After it was gone, Simon kept trying to look over my shoulder (I was carrying him on my front facing me.) to see the dog. (Yesterday a dog walked behind us for a few blocks and this method helped him to see it the whole way.) He frantically signed "bird/dog". Zak signed "dog"to him every time and said "dog"too. "duh" is a common sound for Simon to make and a big part of his daily, conversational babble so it was no surprise when he responded to Zak with "duh"and his "bird/dog"sign. Zak emphasized "Daw-GUH" a few times. There was no dog present and the two just kept signing and talking to each other

Simon: Dah! ("bird/dog")

Zak: Daw-GUG ("Dog")

over and over 100 times until... Simon said "Dog-guh". We all got excited. We walked down the street all chanting "Daw-guh" sign language forgotten. I hoped that we'd run into another dog, and we did. Our neighbors had their two puppies out playing and they ran over to Simon and he said to them "Dog-uh". And that was it. The beginning of a child who can definitely think with others about things that are not present, the beginning of a hunger for language, an enthusiasm for naming and describing. Language is hugely important to Zak and me and it was so exciting to walk through the dark  talking together with our little one.

Mama said knock you out

I don't know why I stopped blogging, and I'm not sure why I might start again...
I intend to only spend a moment on this topic, but a couple of things stand out to me as I read this blog.
1. I've waited so long to change the banner pic at the top that it's relevant again.
2. I "promised" to reflect on being pregnant, and never did.

I think that when one is pregnant (like when one is an adolescent or when one is in love) one's life becomes a big cliche. It's a cliche because certain things are universal, and so they sound cliche when we talk about them. So, it was weird to write about being pregnant in the same way that it was weird to write about how important my thoughts and feelings were when I was 16. Also, I had a really pleasant pregnancy. Yes, I had hormonal ups and downs, yes, I had heartburn, but really, I had a great time. It can be hard to talk about things that are going well,especially if you have reason to be supersticious and fear "jinxing it". So, I didn't write much about how awesome it was to think about a new person inside my body, how connected to Zak I felt as we moved into this new stage blah de blah de blah. Now that my son has arrived and he is his own person, we are still firmly in the land of cliche ("Every day is an adventure." "He's so tiny and perfect." "I see a whole new side of my husband when I watch him with the baby." etc. etc. etc. BUT it is SO interesting to me that I'll risk it.

Finally, I've just gotten back into the habit of writing and reflecting on a more regular basis in part because I bought Nikki Mclure's First 1000 Days
. (she's a fantastic artist from the old PNW.) I really wanted to write to S about what his infancy is like, and what our transition to parenthood has been like, but I had no time in those first weeks to sit down and think, and it was a little overwhelming to decide which completely new and different details to include and which to leave out. I couldn't prioritize. This journal (which is beautiful in every way) is small, and has two pages for each month. There are other pages later in the book to record things like "songs we sing" or "how you express yourself, words you use" etc. but basically, I have to write succinctly and at the end of the month I have a few small paragraphs that more or less tell the story of that four weeks. This is a relief and an excellent reminder to myself. (I totally recommend Mclure's book as a new baby gift to any family who likes to write or remember. I am loving it.)

Resolution Shmesolution
I was inspired by my friend Jessie a few years ago to choose an intention for the whole year. Last year my intention was "follow through". This is kind of funny, since I didn't blog very much, but hey, I didn't say I'd follow through on my blog, just... in general. Today I spent an hour filing and recycling papers from my "crapalanche" on my desk. This is one kind of the follow-through I was talking about. I do have a few projects I could have finished from this year, but more or less I think I lived up to this intention. I definitely thought a lot about what I was taking on and whether I could finish it up. The sheer effort of doing things while pregnant and meant I had to set more limits than usual and maybe say no (realistically) where I might have said yes (optimistically) in the past. This was an unintended consequence of my commitment to follow through.

2012's intention grows out of this idea of limiting my efforts. This year is all about simplification. Watching a new baby human, and tending to his every need makes it really clear that we really don't need much. We're also getting ready to move (upstairs) and that always brings on some reordering and sloughing off. My work on my desk is also part of simplifying. I'm thinking a lot, too, about my wardrobe. For the last 6 or 8 months, I've pretty much worn 20 items from a bag I got from a friend. (I've worn more clothes in the last three months or so, but really I mostly wear maternity shirts still for nursing ease.) We'll see how I'll do with FOLLOWING THROUGH on this intention this year.

Funny things.

I swear a million funny, poignant things are happening to me every day, and I can't hold onto them long enough to type them here. (Sleep deprivation has done a number on my already shitty short term memory.) Suffice it to say that I'm back to blogging (I think.) and I'll have many deep and witty things to share... wicked soon. But not tonight.

I am enjoying the fact that I am now eligible to be the butt of silly "Your mom" jokes. I guess whichever way I can begin to integrate this new identity is helpful, right?

Baby update

He slept from 11:30 until 5:30 last night. When Zak brought him to me (they slept in the guest room so that I could get some solid rest) I was so confused by the clock that I just stared at them, unsure of what was going on, of what planet I was on even. He's continued to sleep almost all day, waking only twice briefly to play and eat. I believe that he will wake up fully an inch longer tomorrow after a day like this.

Also, I was going to title this post "Don't Call it a Comeback" until I Google Imaged that phrase and found that the top clips were actually from bloggers who were coming back to their blog after some time off. So I didn't do that. However, whenever S gets out of the bath and looks out at us from under his droopy hooded towel neither Z or I can keep ourselves from singing it to him. At some point that will get old, but at this moment everything is so new and so fun.