It would be nice to have a prodigy...

The boy likes music a lot. Since I don't have that much experience with little kids I don't know if this is run of the mill or sort of special.

He particularly likes the piano a his Auntie Zosia's house, and Android's drum kit that is set up in our basement. I really need to get video of their little jam sessions. The boy will sit on the stool with his feet hooked under the snare drum to keep him steady. He'll hold a drumstick in each fist and will wave them around gleefully and bang each drum or cymbal in turn.

Android always said he'd never push his kid into playing the drums but he'd be supportive if they wanted to. And as he said the other night "Do you know how convenient it would be if he wanted to be a drummer?"

He also said "All he needs is a little sister on upright bass."

Ha! I'm totally holding him to that.

Old baby learning new tricks.

I never really thought of a baby being a bit like a dog until one day I called him by making kissing noises. "C'mere bud! *Smoochsmooch* C'mere!!".

He came, too. What a good boy.

We've started teaching him tricks. He points to his belly and his nose, he plays "fetch" pretty well, and he knows "No" even if he doesn't abide by it.

He's not really talking which doesn't concern me... yet. "Mama" "Noooooononono" and "Ya. Yayaya." are in his repertoire at the moment. Not a huge vocabulary, but he has a good handle on what things are and what to do with them.

I read somewhere that 15-18 months is chock full of milestones - looking forward to that.

The Deviled Egg made me do it.

Thanks to Amanda for the idea, and to Amy for the hat.
This was the ultimate last minute costume - I was whipstitching away two hours before we went out for the evening.

I may put more thought into it next year, but I guarantee nothing.







And yes - I have every intention of NaBloPoMo-ing it this year. Don't hold your breath, though. I rarely finish what I start.

Blocked.

The only thing I write these days are Facebook updates. Anything longer than ten words starts looking a bit like a long-overdue thesis paper to me.

I'm hoping to get back into the swing of things eventually - for now here are some pics:

Party time, excellent.

Photos by Jenn W.

To my Butter on your first birthday,

Last night I told your Dad that I wanted to set my alarm for 1:16am so I could go in and kiss you Happy Birthday at the exact time you came into this world. I didn't do it because I figured I'd end up waking you up and no one likes to miss out on birthday sleep.

Then the weirdest thing happened: you woke me up at 1:15. You were crying in your crib and I went to get you and bring you back to bed with us. You fell asleep as soon as I picked you up. I probably could have put you back in the crib for a few hours, but instead I woke Papa up and he kissed your forehead and wished you a very happy birthday.

The last year has been like that, kid - every moment has been a little odd, a new adventure, or leaves us completely floundering in a sea of parenthood.

We love you more than you can possibly know.

Safety First.

This is the baby gate we have been living with for two and a half months. We call it the Ghetto Baby Gate. It is, in fact, the bathroom door held open by a Rubbermaid filled with books and blankets and spare sheets.

It worked fine - he never went tumbling down the stairs. However, he managed to wreak havoc on our bathroom by opening the shower door (usually with one of us in there), unfurling entire rolls of toilet paper, and splashing about in the toilet bowl.

Now we have a beautifully installed real baby gate.

I'm thrilled to bits. We actually live here now.