Little Talker

Isaac can say "mama," "dog" and "duck" now.

Until today, "mama" had been a word associated only with pain, irritation and despair. He'd only say it when he was sad or frustrated, and when he did, he more whined than he said it. Today, though, he just said "mama." Like, "Hey there, how are ya?" Not like "I'm angry and upset and I don't know why but if you don't fix it I'm going to pull all of your hair out."

"Dog" and "duck" both sound a lot like "da," but he know's what he's saying. He'll point to a dog (usually real) or a duck (usually plastic) and say "Da. Da." Then he smiles and claps his hands.

Even though he's exhausting me, I am still so taken by him. He's less and less like a little baby and more and more like a little boy. And a sweet, smart, affectionate boy at that. He always gives kisses when he's asked for them (for a while, when I asked for a kiss, he'd headbutt me instead. That's since stopped), and he's also learned how to blow kisses, which is about the sweetest thing ever.

I think I may have decided, though, that I don't want any more kids. Until two days ago, I wanted, like, three or four more. But on Monday I took dinner to a friend of mine with a one-week-old. Just observing a newborn and a toddler in the same room together -- even though they aren't both mine -- exhausted me. I'm not sure I could take care of a newborn and a toddler and keep my sanity at the same time. Lord bless my friends Shelly, who has two little ones, and Tasha, who has a toddler and babysits her neighbor's newborn. I think I might be happy with just Isaac. One might just be the perfect number.

Oh, my

I have a 1-year-old, ya'll. And it's as if, over the course of just one weekend, my little baby turned into a cranky, rambunctious toddler. In just a few days he's increased his mobility ten-fold. He's still not walking and only semi-crawling, but somehow he manages to cross a room in the bat of an eye.

(Tonight, though, he actually crawled. Not the weirdo, half crawl, half walk thing he's been doing, but an actual, normal crawl. I set him down to show off his freakishness to friends of ours, and what does he do but crawl like a normal baby?)

We spent Friday, his actual birthday, at the zoo with our friends Tasha, Miles, Natasha and Sam. It was Isaac's first time to the zoo, and he actually seemed pretty nonplussed. I think the only animal he looked directly at was this monkey in a cage that, after hopping like a rabbit, would stand up and raise his arms over his head. At the flamingo exhibit, I held Isaac up to show him the birds, and when he giggled, I thought, "He must really like these flamingos." But he didn't. He was looking at his feet.

Still, we had a wonderful time and we both left sufficiently exhausted. We went to bed early that night, and Isaac woke me up at 6:15 the next morning. I spent all morning preparing for his party, which started at 2pm and was so much fun. Because Isaac's nap schedule was thrown off by our earlier-than-usual awakening, he was ready for his afternoon nap by the time his party rolled around, but, even though he was exhausted, he was a trooper. He played with the rocks on the playground, spent a lot of time in the arms of everyone who loves him and had a blast opening his presents and smearing cake and icing all over his face. I have some great pictures that I'll try to post tomorrow.

I have so much more to say about my Little Man and how quickly he's growing and what a marvelous personality he's developing, but I'm exhausted and in desperate need of sleep. This entire weekend, I've felt almost as tired as I did when Isaac was a newborn. I guess this is a sign that we've entered toddlerhood. Lord help us.

Interpret this

I just remembered the dream I had last night. I was in the hospital with a friend who was in labor and about to deliver her baby. I have no idea who it was. She was pushing, and all of a sudden the doctor said that, if the baby didn't come out soon, he'd have to perform an emergency c-section. There was no emergency, and I have no idea how long she had been pushing. The doctor was standing by her head, trying to tell her she needed the c-section, so I moved around to her feet, keeping my hands on her belly. All of a sudden, I felt the baby move down the birth canal, and I caught him as she delivered. I stared at him for a minute, incredulous of what had just happened, before finally placing her baby on her chest. The doctor seemed sort of nonplussed, like he couldn't have cared less that my friend just delivered her baby, basically unassisted, and I caught him. I kept telling her over and over how proud I was of her for delivering him the way she wanted and not letting the doctor force her to have a c-section. I remember being really joyful at what has just happened. Finally, the doctor helped me cut the umbilical cord and helped her deliver the placenta. That's all I remember.

Weird, huh?

Isaac the Incredible

Isaac learned this trick last week. We were at my parents' house, playing this little game we often do wherein I stand Isaac up, let him go and then catch him before he hits the ground. He really enjoys the free fall, squealing and giggling the entire time.

About the 19th time I did it, though, he didn't fall. He stood there for a good seven seconds before finally plopping back down to the floor. My parents and I were so excited; we screamed, hollered and clapped, which just enthused Isaac more. I'd help him regain his balance and he'd stand there, longer at every attempt. Soon he wasn't waiting for me to stand him back up; he was climbing up himself. I have some awesome pictures of Isaac's standing up process on my computer at work. They are hilarious.

Tonight, Isaac was playing in front of his Fisher Price Sing-Along Stage while I checked my e-mail. I glanced over at him, and he had pulled himself up and was standing in front of it. I ran over and sat beside him because he's been known to pull the thing over on himself. He was dancing along to the music when he accidentally pushed it forward, leaving him in a precarious situation. He kind of whined at first, but after a few seconds, he very slowly, very carefully put one foot in front of the other until he was upright again. Then, he proceed to push the toy, following slowly after it, from the coffee table to the dining room table.

Once he hit the dining room chairs, I turned him back toward the living room and put his Fisher Price shopping cart (I know, it's like a plastic factory at our house) in front of him, and he pushed it from the living room to the dining room again. I helped him around the dining room table and the doorway corners and he got all the way to the bathroom before he decided he'd had enough. It was awesome! I was cracking up the whole time at my little baby who, just last week, could barely keep his balance even when holding on to my fingers, stepping all over the house on his own. I didn't have my camera, so I took some pictures on my phone, but I'm not sure how to get them on the computer. Hopefully Isaac will be up for an encore tomorrow night and I'll have proof of my baby's mobility. I'm so very proud of him. I also know how busy I'm going to be in just a few months.

Oh! AND tonight, Isaac crawled! In the bathtub! Weird, I know. He had scooted himself forward toward the nozzle (which is protected by an inflatable octopus), and, without warning, just turned around and crawled back to the middle of the tub. I was like, where the heck did that come from? Oh, well. I'll take it.