What a 1-year old likes to do: LEGO and blocks

The first set of blocks Desmond ever got was from his abuelita.  They were really nice wooden blocks, really big (actually too big for Des's small hands at the time) and came in different colors.  At 7 months, he had absolutely no interest in them except mouthing on them for a few minutes and then setting them down. 

His new favorite game now is handing me the blocks and watching me stack them one on top of the other and then shifting his weight back and forth in anticipation.  Once I give the go ahead, he knocks them down and then immediately looks up and starts clapping.   "Bravo," Billy and I say, and clap along with him.  So, don't give away those toys that your baby seems to have no interest in.  They may regain their interest once they're a little bit older (for example, Desmond just rediscovered his Haba teething ring and walks around with it a lot).

I took him to the science museum in town and they had a kids' section, complete with a Lego piece on the wall.  Of course, Desmond waddles on over and, since he's still so short (I'm crossing my fingers the fruit of my and Billy's loins inherited my mother's tall genes), climbs onto the chair and starts immediately problem solving.  The cool thing about Legos is that it takes the kids a while to figure out how to make it "stick" and then it's not as easy as swiping your hand and arm through mid air to knock them down.  If I had more financial means, I'd buy one of those wall units and keep it in my office so that I could possibly do some work while he plays.  Or better yet, in the kitchen, so that he's not underneath my feet while I'm cooking over open flames. 

If this were a competition, he'd win "Most Intense."

Looking at the cars on the freeway.

Does anybody have any good toy suggestions for 13-month-olds?  What comes next?

Desmond hates shoes

Here's the scene: you (a woman in your mid-to-late 20s) are walking into your local Target store at 2pm in the afternoon.  You woke up an hour ago, but couldn't move off your bed because of the pounding headache (hangover) you had and currently have.  You're slowly walking around Target looking for the heavy OTC drugs section whilst thinking about how you should not have had that last amaretto sour at the bar last night and how this will be the last time, swear on your mother, that you will ever drink this much.  In your quest for the excedrin, you inadvertently pass the baby clothes aisle.  You walk by without even giving its contents a glance but something catches your eye.  Hanging on the display wall is what looks to be like a pink pair of ballerina slippers that could fit in the palm of your already small hand.  You slow down, stop, and walk the three steps backwards until you're face to face with the shoes.  You take off your sunglasses and shakily reach out your hand.  The shoes fit perfectly in your palms and you couldn't imagine that babies can have such ridiculously small feet.  For the space of a few seconds, your body releases a slew of hormones, which make you smile at the thought of putting them on your very own future baby daughter while your rational mind reels at the thought of ever having a child and your uterus sighs in longing.  You slowly put them back and start walking away.  By the time you're in the pharmaceuticals aisle, you're back to cursing your hangover and making empty promises about never drinking again, the thought of baby feet clad in miniature pink ballet slippers already dissipating from your memory.

True story, by the way.

Desmond's first pair of shoes were not really shoes, but booties.  We bought them on our trip to Vilnius, in Lithuania (read post HERE) in this little baby store that we happened upon during our walking tour of the city.  The booties were adorable: brown and cream and knit by hand.  It was our first baby purchase and was the first purchase that truly made start being excited about the arrival of Desmond.

Baby Desmond with his Lithuanian booties on. 

However, while I have had a major love affair with baby shoes ("Oh my God, Billy...baby Air Jordans!"), Desmond has not.  He HATES, DETESTS, ABHORS wearing shoes.  One time, this couple that we're friends with (Hi, Lauren and Jack!) put doggy shoes on their dog.  It walked around like it was stepping over high prickly sticks.  It didn't know what to do with itself and teetered and waddled around bewildered.  Truthfully, probably the funniest thing I've ever seen, but also kind of sad for the dog.  Anyhow, the walk is exactly how Desmond walks when you put regular shoes on him.  Now, it didn't used to be an issue before he started walking: he would wear socks a lot and those leather shoes that had elastic on them that would stretch to fit his feet (mostly used to keep the socks on).  As soon as he started crawling, I bought him his first pair of real-soled shoes: a pair of boat shoes.  And they were plaid boat shoes.  With a thick sole.  I put them on Desmond, coordinating his outfit perfectly (khaki shorts, matching plaid shirt, combed and parted hair...) and sent him on his merry way.  He started crawling away and did so looking like those poor animals (like the rabbits or dogs) who are paralyzed from the waist down and walk around on their front legs dragging their back legs around.  Once he realized that they hindered his mobility, he sat down and started trying to take them off.  Which led to him crying.  Which led to me taking them off and putting them away for when he walked.

Similar to the ones I got Des.  By the way, since I hate paying full price for baby stuff, I got them for like 2 bucks at kid-to-kid.  Paying full price for baby stuff elicits the same response from me as when I accidentally milk that's about to expire: Dang it!  I should've known better.

So, when he started walking, I put them back on.  We went downstairs to try them out and he just stood there with this sad look on his face and wouldn't move.  I told him that no child of mine was going to be walking around the grocery store bare- and dirty-footed, thereby inviting the judgmental glances of every mother within seeing distance.  He started pouting and then decided to walk back towards me, arms outstretched, mouth starting to form the big, wide rectangle before a whiney yell.  Before any sound could come out, he literally tripped over his own feet.  And then he lost it.  He started screaming and kicking his feet around as if they were being dunked into boiling water.  I panicked and took them off and have been too terrified of putting them back on.

I drove over to Target and ended up getting him another pair of the leather shoes.

These are similar to the ones I got him.  However, these are vegan shoes, meaning, they aren't made with leather.  You can find them at Isabooties.

Has this happened to anyone's kids before?  Do they finally accept their lot in life and wear regular shoes?  Desmond's grandma Donna told me that Billy used to hate wearing shoes and would scrunch up his toes so she couldn't put them on him, but now he has a love affair with shoes (seriously.  Has more shoes than I do).  Am I doomed to either have a kid who runs around in dirty, bare feet or one who ends up spending gobs of his money on shoes?

I am a proud mama of a 1-year-old little boy

Everybody would always tell me how fast life goes by when you have kids.  When I was a new mother and had newborn Desmond looking up at me and I was bewildered and unsure of myself and lonely and maybe a little bit sad, it seemed that he would be this little, this dependent on me for the rest of my life on this earth.  But, lo and behold, all the shit people tell you about enjoying your time before a baby and enjoying the time you have with a baby because "time flies" is really true.  Imagine that.

Now, I'm a year older (hello 30s) and I am a bona fide mother of a 1-year-old son.  I can't even believe it sometimes.  As I look from the outside in onto my life and particular situation, I'm astounded that I'm at the place I am right now: unmarried with a toddler, living with the most wonderful man I've ever met, in St. Louis of all places, in a two-story red brick house.  I don't know what I expected out of my life by the age of 30...I guess when you're young, 30 seems ancient and so far into the future, that you can't possibly imagine living a life at that age and you don't want to imagine yourself living the life your mother lived at 30.

When Des was first born, I couldn't imagine getting to this point.  But here we are.  We've all made it.  and I'm so glad, so very glad that I experienced the first year of his life with him.  All the good parts and the maddening parts and the down parts, I wouldn't trade a moment of it for any other crazy, free, passionate, I-wish-I-were-in-my-20s moment.  I've had the privilege of living a beautiful sociological experiment: watching how my ideas of parenting, children, and relationships has helped to mold this beautiful little being's mind and temperament.  When he dances around the living room, unselfishly offers his food to his parents or the dogs (may be that he hates the way the food we give him tastes...), or comes up to me to take my face in his hands and give me a hug when a particular episode of glee makes me cry, I see how he exhibits several of my traits (except the food one) and I'm amazed how truly like a sponge these little guys are and how every single action we do while raising them, every decision we make, every caress or moment that we ignore them impacts them, without our knowing it, until we see them at 1 year old, manifesting all this knowledge seemingly all at once.





When I see him laugh, I hear Billy's laugh.  When he looks at me devilishly when he's about to pull the books off that shelf, I am reminded at how playful of a dad Billy is.  He is the most amazing science experiment ever and I'm the luckiest, albeit unpaid, PI (principal investigator in research speak) ever.

Enough of the babble.  On to more important topics like birthday parties for 1-year-olds.  Billy and I hardly ever buy anything for Desmond.  Like I've said ad nauseam, we've been fortunate enough to have generous family and friends, bagfuls of hand-me-overs, and places like Kid-to-Kid to shop.  So, the idea of throwing a huge bash for him, although tempting since I love any kind of party, didn't make sense to our sensibilities (mostly monetary).  We knew that family were going to send gifts anyway, so we didn't buy him a single thing (I wonder how long we could get away with that...) but we did end up buying him what ended up to be his favorite toy for like 5 days: balloons and we had to get some sort of frosting-bedecked cake for him to attack (we ended up going with a massive cupcake). 

Gifts

Half running with the balloon

The birthday cupcake...and yes, that's a Christmas platter it sits on.

Let the fun begin!

Deciding on how to attack the cupcake, since picking it up, jamming it into his mouth wasn't quite cutting it for him.

Finally got a decent mouthful in.

Success!

"And then, the cupcake went 'BOOM!!!' and exploded all over my face.  True story, folks."

He only shared about a quarter of that big cupcake. 

Cleaned up and in a pair of boxer shorts his grandma got him.  The thing in his hand is a dog hair roller.  We should've wrapped that up as a present for us.  Parents, you DON'T have to buy kiddie toys...just look around your house for the most random stuff, wrap it, and give it to the child.  They'll love you all the same (if they're teeny.  Do not try this with teenagers.)

Standing atop his spoils.

Some 1-year milestones include:

• He could say ma-ma, baaa (I think that's his name for Billy), and "ufff ufff" for dog (which he says while making humping movements)
• He started walking at 11.5 months and now (as I write this 1 month after his birthday), he can almost run.
• He is able to go up and down stairs without any help (he actually slides down the stairs on his tummy, feet first.  Scared the shit out of me when he first started doing it - he flies down the stairs - but now I'm used to it)
• He is able to get off a bed (feet first)
• He knows the name of several friends and family members and is able to pick them out of a lineup (more on that in another post)
• He's starting to become a pickier eater and is now gravitating towards anything with peanut butter in it
• He loves music, especially the country music station.
• He is just starting to understand the concept of shapes and fitting things together (peg into hole, stacking cups based on size, etc)  
• He also understands Spanish very well.

Things my one-year-old tot likes to do: frolic in water!

Desmond has loved the water since he was a wee something month old.  He would love taking baths with me and loved it infinitely more than taking a sponge bath and sitting in his bath sling and getting warm water poured over him.

Our first bath.  It looks like I'm about to strangle him...and his face shows that he knows.

Strategically placed rubber duckie.  He was a great floater.

When we were first starting to float him.  He's got the beginnings of a WTF face.

When he was first able to sit up, we immediately put him in a mini tub to see how he would handle it and boy, oh boy, he puffed his little chest out, splashed all the water, and smiled the biggest toothless smile.

That's right, my kid doesn't have any color boundaries.  He loves pink tubs, pink toothbrushes, my pink shirts...

Our sad little swimming pool in the backyard.  Even Desmond knows how sad it is.  Poor guy. 

Desmond and his cousin Nico.  Nico didn't like hanging out in the water, and especially having Desmond splash him with water.  Also, check out the gut on my kid.  Is this normal for a 1-year-old boy?  Look at Nico's taut, toned stomach. 

I'm so lucky that St. Louis has (2 that I know of) awesome little parks with water fountains that kids could splash around in.  One was in Yogi Berra park (he's a native of St. Louis) in the Italian district (The Hill) and it's just simple: a water spout coming out from the ground.  The other one is in Tower Grove Park (a lovely, lovely park) more ornate and has those hide-and-seek things where water shoots up from a hole in the ground and you don't know where or when it will shoot out next.  Des loved both fountains immensely.

The first time we went to the simple fountain, we happened upon it by accident.  We were touring The Hill and had just gotten some gelato.  I still had 2 more hours before Billy was due back from school and I had seen a little park with some swings as I was looking for a parking space.  We went over and found the fountain.  I cursed myself for not thinking ahead and packing his swimmies diapers and swim shirt.  I looked around.  The park was deserted save for a few kids playing soccer in the field.  "Screw it."  I sat him down on the periphery of the fountain, enough so that his feet would get wet.

Starting off...

Inching closer and closer...

and getting soaked.

  The next week, we went to Tower Grove Park to check out the water fountain there.  Oh my goodness...it was like waterworks heaven.  Desmond was so excited he was literally...and I use that word in every aspect of its meaning...shaking.  He almost fell over he was shaking so hard.  I made sure to smear some sunscreen on him, then sent him on his way.  I was kind of grossed out a bit because I hadn't thought of buying him some water shoes (coincidentally, that weekend, I opened a giant garbage bag full of clothes that Christy had given me and lo and behold, there were some water shoes) since all I could think about is ringworm and all sorts of other footborne diseases.

I mean, how gorgeous is this fountain?  Desmond kept tripping over those little bumps (they housed spotlights for the fountain) and I would run over in my flip flops and skirt to make sure he was ok, but he would only look up at me and laugh.  and I would get wet.

Done for the day.  Isn't his little surf outfit cute?

We give Des a bath every evening before his bedtime.  He has cut down from never wanting to get out of the bath to getting out of the bath 10 minutes into bath time.  He stands up (we had to get him this little bath mat so he wouldn't bonk his head...and a cover for the faucet because one time, he stood up and Billy and I, although both sitting by the tub, he slipped and hit his face on the faucet.  It was the corner of his eye and it was bleeding so profusely...scary, scary, scary) and starts climbing out.  However, we were lucky to have gotten this video of him:



What a cheeky kid, eh? 

Happy Birthday, Christy P!

It was April of 2007 and I drove up to Research Park wearing a pant suit, carrying some fancy leather-bound organizer, and google map directions.  I was nervous because I was getting ready to meet with the director and a professor for an interview for acceptance into the public health program.  I was told who would be interviewing me and I remember trying desperately to figure out what the lady on the other end of the phone was saying.  "You'll be interviewing with George White and Christy Porucznik."  "Christy, what was her last name?" "Porucznik." I think I scribbled down P-E-R-U-S-N-I-C-K. 

I came into the interview room, nervous, sat down and began.  I don't think she asked any questions.  She just scribbled some notes now and again (looking back, they might have been part of her to-do list or new research ideas...:)) and didn't say a word.  I was terrified and of course, thought I blew the interview and had moved out to Utah for a stupid boy and no higher education prospects. 

And then I got in.  I had a few classes where Christy (Dr. Porucznik, that is) would come in and lecture about a topic, but didn't actually have her in a class until my second year of my masters for Infectious Disease Epidemiology (she is an epidemiologist by training and did her dissertation work in infectious disease epi).  As do most who take a class from her, I really enjoyed it (and I'm not just saying that because it's her birthday!)  

From University of Utah, Department of Family and Preventive Medicine, Division of Public Health

However, I really got to know Christy outside of the classroom, where she became my go-to person for all of my pregnancy, nursing, and mothering dilemmas.  I remember the first time I told her that I was pregnant.  She looked at me as many did, unsure of how to assess the situation.  Should she say congrats?  Should she just say wow?  Later, she wrote me a short and sweet email telling me how happy she was for me. 

From that point on, she became a repository of information.  She provided me with so much: advice, clothes, books, diapers, etc.  She taught me how to wear Desmond.  She taught me the basics of cloth diapering.  She coached me through breastfeeding Desmond.  I adopted several of her beliefs and parenting attitudes.  She let me come over and eat her delicious food and play with her beautiful kids.  I have learned so much, not only about public health, but also about how to be a better mother.  I truly believe that had I not had her support throughout my pregnancy and throughout the last year, I would have been a totally different mother.

Dinner at the Porucznik's.

So, Happy Birthday to a woman that I'm proud to call a teacher, mentor, and friend. 

What a 1-year old likes to do for fun

The rage at Casa Reeves-Thomas is books.  Desmond is all about the books: my books, dad's books, his books...if it's got a cover and you can flip the pages, he loves it.  The book doesn't even need to have pictures in it (his go-to book in my bookshelf is Gabriel Garcia Marquez's In the Time of Cholera), although he seems to prefer books that have pictures in it.  In reality, I think he likes pulling the books off the shelf and having me chase after him and telling him no and putting them back.  The kid thinks it's the funnest game ever invented and he'll squeal with glee and quickly run away from me to get to more books.  Sometimes, he gets so excited that he trips over his own feet and then starts crying.  Talk about manic-depressive...

One of the first sightings of Desmond being interested in books

Looks like Auntie Kseniya is more interested in his book than Desmond is.  It's because she was an English major.

His favorite books are the ones that have sing-songy rhymes.  His Grandma Donna got him his most favorite book: The Lady with the Alligator Purse.  Remember that book?  Miss Lucy had a baby, his name was Tiny Tim...  As soon as Desmond hears the sing-songy cadence of those first few lines, he throws his right hand up by his head and starts to wiggle his bottom and dance.  

You can probably find this book used at a used bookstore or library sale, or you can buy it on Amazon.

He also loves tactile books, the books with things poking out of them or where you can feel the "fur" on the doggy, kitten, bird, etc.  He also particularly enjoys any book that makes music.  

Although reading The Lady with the Alligator Purse and the Ladybugs book (5 little ladybugs sitting on the shore, along came a fish, then there were 4! Little ladybugs...) over and over and over ad nauseam is causing my brain to atrophy, it's starting to pay off: although this has only happened once, it still means that Des is learning something and showing me that the brain that I gestated is worthy of my admiration and respect.  If I say, in Spanish, of course, Des, go get lady with the alligator purse, he'll go to his basket of books, look around, and pull it out.  He did it with 2 other of his favorite books.  

Yes, Des is a boxer-briefs guy.  Here he is going through his baskets of toys and books.  Each basket has a specific type of toy: wooden ones and books on the bottom and soft toys on the top.

All the books always say that it's important to read to your baby, starting from day 1 (if you have the energy...I'd recommend week 2.  By that time, you're in a routine and probably need to do something to keep you from some of the boredom of being alone with a newborn).  I started off reading google reader blogs to Desmond out loud.  Then, I tried to initiate a "bedtime routine" that consisted of bath, books, and feeding.  He wasn't having any nonsense about a routine (he must have been 6 months at the time).  Now, whenever we're in his room for quiet play time, he'll pull out book after book for me to read to him.  Sometimes, he'll come and sit on my lap while I read.  As much as I complain about how tedious it is to read puerile books all day to a child with the attention span of a goldfish, I get such a surge of warm, motherly, protective, and proud feelings when he hands me a book and sits in my lap.  You bet that instead of rushing through the book to get it over with, I take my time and point out all of the people and things in the pictures and let him turn the pages when he wants.  I give him tons of kisses on the top of his head and end each reading session (where he's sitting on my lap) with tickles.

So excited for his new book...a touch and feel book from his Madrina Annie.

He freaking loves birds. 

OK...that last paragraph sounded like it was straight out of those cheesy parenting books that has the perfect family all holding hands and running through a field showered with sunlight.  That ain't my life most days, although when I see Des wanting to read and cultivating that wonderful gift of loving to learn (and listen and dance), then that nice sunlight does make its way into my house.  Only just a bit, though...

Birthday weekend: The big 3-0!

I remember 8 years ago, talking to my BFF Annie on the phone on my birthday and telling her that "there it was...22...looming before me like two tombstones."  22 meant being a real adult...having to go out into the real world and out of the enveloping cocoon of liberal arts undergraduate dorm life.  Back then, I had my life planned out: graduate at 22, finish grad school at 26, get married, and have kids by 28. 

This year, I turned 30 and, although I have a few gray hairs, a saggier gut, and a little human, I still feel like I'm 22, although I wish I had the energy of my 22-year-old self.  So for my birthday this year, I had dropped major hints to Billy that I wanted an iPad.  He kept telling me that we couldn't afford it, I'd pout, drop the subject, and then ask drop the hint again 1 week later. 

Instead of an iPad, however, Billy got me the craziest best gift ever: he flew out 3 of my best girlfriends (girls I've known since before I was 22) to Salt Lake City from Ohio and West Virginia.  They had all planned this elaborate surprise where one girl would show up, say surprise! and I'd be surprised and then the next would do the same.  3 Huge surprises in the span of a few hours: you betcha I almost peed myself from excitement (I say ALMOST because my bladder control has seriously improved over the past year.  Although that is something that is definitely not the same as it was 8 years ago).  They spent a few days in SLC and then left.  It was the most perfect birthday gift ever.  Although an iPad wouldn't have left so soon.  Just sayin'...

Jen, Kaip, and Annie.  At Ruth's Diner.

On the grounds of the Mormon Temple.  Kaip: "This looks like Disney World in here."

Desmond and Auntie Kaip.