Alexander: 10 Things
1. He’s a chatterbox. He has over 30 words, and his pronunciation is getting more and more clear every day. He clearly says “milk” now instead of “muh,” for example. In fact, he’s so proud of having acquired that “k” sound at the end of words that he often repeats it several times. So “milk” turns in to “milk-ilk-ilk-ilk” and “bike” is “bike-ike-ike-ike.” He also says “deet deet” (his version of thank you) whenever you give him something.
2. When he’s not using actual words, he babbles, but the way he does it, the combination of sounds and the rhythmic cadence in his voice, makes it almost musical. Like he’s singing his conversation at us, or scatting, jazz-style. It’s adorable.
3. He’s trying to learn to jump, and there are few things that make me laugh harder than a “jumping” toddler. He bends his knees, then throws his weight upward with all his might. The result is a chaotic upward flail that often throws him off balance, sending him stumbling to one side or another, giggling uncontrollably, only to do it all over again. His feet never leave the ground.
4. He’s going through a bit of a Daddy’s Boy phase right now, usually when he’s grumpy. When he’s in a good mood (which is most of the time), he’s happy as can be to play with either parent (though if he’s playing with just me he does ask for “Daddy?” every 10 minutes or so). But if something has his diaper in a twist, he wants absolutely nothing to do with Mama. I try to pick him up, read a book with him, play with his trucks, and he screams, sheds giant crocodile tears, and lunges for Daddy. Last week he actually ripped a book I was trying to read with him out of my hands and marched it over to Tim. Point taken, kiddo.
5. He still dances every time he hears music. And his rhythm is usually spot-on. Definitely Mama’s little boy in that respect.
6. We bought him a tricycle last weekend, and the boy is in love. He knows about bikes from some of his books, and when we asked him if he wanted a bike, he got really excited. We brought it home from the store, and it sat in the box for the better part of the next day while Tim slept in. All morning long, Alexander walked over to the box, pointed at it, and asked “Bike? Bike?” (Everything is a question, asked at least twice. Always.) While Tim was assembling the bike, Alexander kept grabbing the seat, setting it on the floor, and sitting on it, then getting up and stealing whatever tools Tim wasn’t currently using. All the while asking “Bike? Bike?” Finally, when assembly was complete and we put the bike on the floor for him, he could not contain his excitement. He raced over to the bike, shouting excitedly “Biiike!!!” It was a very Kid-like moment. This wasn’t a “I’m a baby and you showed me something new and I don’t really understand it but I think it’s neat because it’s new” moment. He fully understood exactly what was in that box, exactly what Tim was assembling, and exactly what an awesome present we had just given him, so much so that he was bursting with excitement about it. The Kid-ness with which he exclaimed “BIKE!” just about knocked me over. He’s not a baby anymore.
7. He loves being tickled. The other day I Tickle Tackled him, and he giggled and squirmed until I stopped, at which point he immediately asked “More? More?” So I tickled him more. Giggle, squirm, stop, “More? More?” Over and over again, until he had laughed so hard he gave himself the hiccups.
8. He wants to be just like us and imitates everything we do. On a recent trip to my parents’ house, my dad, who is recovering from knee surgery, spent most of the weekend with his leg propped up. Alexander, who loves his “Ba Ba” a great deal, carefully arranged a stool so he could sit on it, then placed a soup can on the floor in front of the stool. He plopped down on the stool and put his foot up on his little soup-can ottoman, just like Bab Ba. This kid, man. He SLAYS me.
9. He’s starting to pretend and use his imagination. A few weeks ago he snagged some measuring cups and spoons out of the kitchen and stirred up some pretend soup, then fed it to us and himself, complete with satisfied slurping noises. Just last week he laid two of his favorite stuffed dogs on the coffee table, patted them gently, and said “Night night!” Then he leaned over and gave one of them a big kiss — “MWAH!” Meanwhile, I melted into a big puddle on the couch, completely overcome by the adorableness.
10. He’s formed attachments to a couple of stuffed animals. He loves his stuffed Clifford (the Big Red Dog), but his absolute favorite is the Cat in the Hat. I spotted this one at Khol’s recently and showed it to Alexander, since the boy loves to point out hats. “Look, Alexander, this cat’s wearing a hat!” Alexander immediately grabbed the toy, hugged it close, and absolutely refused to let go. Not in a “it’s MINE I don’t want anyone else to have it!” way, but more in a “Yes, I love this very much” way. It was only $5, so I took it to the register and pried one arm of the cat out of A’s grip so the cashier could scan the tag, and we brought it home. The Cat in the Hat is a very well-loved friend, who gets lots of hugs, rides on the bike, and snuggles in bed every night. The other night I forgot to bring the Cat in the Hat upstairs at bedtime, but Alexander didn’t fuss about it, so I figured it was no big deal. I realized the error of my ways at midnight when A woke up crying, and over the monitor I heard distressed cries of “Haaat? Haaat?” We don’t forget the Cat at bedtime anymore.
Snapshots of Joy
I introduced Alexander to the concept of jumping, picking him up a few inches and putting him back down a couple times. Then, holding his hands, I say, “Like this!” And I jump. And he reacts: Peals of laughter, endless giggles as I jump over and over again, and he laughs harder and harder, gasping for breath between guffaws. Pure astonishment and glee plastered on his face.
. . .
Tim’s at parent-teacher conferences, so I’m solo parenting for the evening. The oven timer beeps, signaling that my dinner is ready. I ignore it for several minutes until I can peel myself away from Alexander and his pile of toys, reassuring him all the while that I’ll be right back. Dinner’s out of the oven, but Alexander is unhappy about the 15-foot distance between us, so I leave my food to cool for a bit and return to my son. He picks up his current favorite book and marches over to the couch, signalling that he wants up. We sit, snuggling, reading books, him pointing to every “Dog!” (That’s a sheep. Baaaa!), laying his head in my lap, helping me turn the pages, backwards, forwards, several at a time, savoring every page just long enough. My dinner remains on the stove, long-since forgotten. And, oh, my heart. It is positively bursting with joy.
First Words
(FeverGate 2012 Update: After 6 days on antibiotics with virtually no improvement, we went back to the doctor and got a new antibiotic. The improvement was almost immediate. His fever stopped spiking, his lips stopped turning blue, and he felt good enough to return to daycare the very next day. A week after switching antibiotics, he’s completely back to normal. It’s so great to have our happy boy back!)
Alexander has a few words in his vocabulary that he uses somewhat consistently. He’ll say “DaDa” to Tim and “Dah” to the dogs (though, to be fair, he says “Dah” about a lot of things…he’ll say it when pointing to the door, he’ll say it when he’s done eating, and he’ll say it when pointing to the dogs. Basically, there are lots of things in his life that start with a “D” sound, and he’s mastered it). But more than any other “D” word, the one word he uses most consistently and most accurately is “No.” I used to think it was just a sound he made, and it was nothing more than a funny coincidence when he would answer questions with his “no” sound. But as time goes on, we’re begrudgingly starting to get the impression that we’re going to have to write “No” down in the theoretical baby book as the official First Word.
Lately, Alexander’s been playing a fun game where he likes to dangle himself head-first over the side of the couch and have us pull him back to safety by his feet. We try very hard not to encourage this behavior since it’s obviously dangerous, but the kid is determined to do a nose dive off the side of the couch and onto the hardwood floor. The other day, as luck would have it, I was half a second too slow in grabbing his feet to pull him back from the edge, and he finally succeeded in throwing himself to the floor face first. Much wailing (Alexander) and frantic checking for massive head wounds (Tim and me) ensued, but he calmed down after a few minutes and only had a small scratch on his forehead to show for his tumble.
Tim tried to use reason (as you do with a 13-month-old) to explain to Alexander that this is why we don’t do nose dives off the couch and asked, “Did you learn a lesson?”
“No,” was the child’s prompt reply.
“Are you going to stop playing that dangerous game?”
“No.”
And then, trying a different tactic: “Are you going to do that again?”
No response.
This kid has learned the word “no,” and I’m beginning to think we’re in for quite the wild ride raising our mischievous little monkey.
(Sure enough, less than an hour later, Alexander was crawling back to the arm of the couch, dangling over the edge head first all over again. At least he didn’t lie to us about whether or not he learned anything.)
Little Boy Blue
It seems that being a one-year-old is not good for Alexander’s health. Since his birthday, he’s had Hand, Foot, and Mouth Disease, an eye infection, and now a nasty head cold/mild ear infection featuring The Fever That Would Not Die. It’s been a hell of a month.
This latest illness has been particularly rough. He has a high fever and low appetite, and he’s just all around very pitiful and sad. Sometimes, when the Baby Tylenol is working, he feels better and almost acts like his usual self again. But in a few short hours, he’ll take a dramatic shift back to Fever-ville and become the most heart-breakingly listless baby boy you’ve ever seen. We’re on Day Three of this roller coaster, and we’re ready to be done.
The worst of it hit last night, when we rushed him over to Urgent Care because he was turning blue. His fingers, toes, and lips were blue, he was shivering, and his fever was climbing. It was terrifying. It had happened earlier in the day, too, but only in his fingers, and I was able to get him some Tylenol, get his fever down, and get him back to normal pretty quickly. I’d consulted the ever-reliable Dr. Google and learned that the blue fingers and toes thing is a fun trick that some babies do when in the “rising stages” of a fever, so I managed not to freak out. It helped tremendously that he bounced back so quickly.
Last night, however, it was worse. He was more blue than before, shivering like crazy, and completely out of it. And he didn’t seem to be bouncing back. We called the on-call pediatrician, who was completely frustrating in his lack of concern or helpfulness, repeated what I’d already learned from Google about this being something that can happen with fevers and babies, and basically said it was “up to us” whether we took him to an after-hours clinic or not.
We were scared, though, so we piled into the car and headed for Urgent Care, if for nothing else than to have the peace of mind that comes with having a professional look him over and assess the situation. When we got there, Tim explained to the receptionist what was happening while I held my sick baby and unsuccessfully tried to hold back my tears. The receptionist calmly told us to have a seat in the waiting area and someone would be with us shortly.
Now, the logical part of my brain was thinking it was a good sign that the Urgent Care staff wasn’t alarmed by our baby’s blue lips and didn’t immediately rush us back to an exam room. But the concerned mother part of my brain wanted to scream “What do you mean, ‘have a seat’?! MY BABY IS TURNING BLUE! DO SOMETHING TO MAKE HIM BETTER RIGHT NOW!”
I managed to hold myself together, though, and we sat, and we waited. Meanwhile, Alexander transitioned from blue to bright red and then settled into a nice, healthy pink just in time for us to be called back to see the doctor. The doctor checked his oxygen levels, listened to his lungs, and gave him a flu test, all of which produced healthy results. This doctor, at least, was very kind and understanding of the scared first-time parents in her exam room. She took her time explaining what could be going on and assuring us that the antibiotic our pediatrician had prescribed the day before would help, and Alexander should be feeling better within a couple of days.
So two hours and a few tears later, we walked out of Urgent Care with instructions to stay the course and come back immediately if the situation worsens. And a great sense of relief, knowing that we’re doing what we need to be doing to take good care of our little guy.
Today he’s still fighting off the fever, and we’re still stuck on this roller coaster of happy baby/feverish baby. Tim and I have spent the day napping and watching the baby in shifts. Alexander’s passed out on my chest while I write this, but an hour ago he was dancing in the kitchen while eating macaroni and cheese. He hasn’t turned blue at all today, so I’m counting it as a good day.
Hopefully tomorrow will be even better.
Adorable Alter Egos
Superhero by day…
Skeleton-Slaying Kangaroo by night.
Happy Halloween!
-
Search
-
Categories
A little Tipsy blog Book Challenge 07 Books Dance Family Feeling Blue General Happiness Get Active. Get AWESOME! Have Red Pen, Will Edit hiking Holidays Home Improvement Job's Daughters Kitchen Adventures Mr. Tim's Adventures in Teaching NaBloPoMo 07 Nostalgia Photos & Videos Pike's Peak Adventure Puppies Random SangriaBaby Scrapbooking Smalls Sunday Spain Summer Abroad Tap The New House Things that make me laugh Tim tv and movies Uncategorized Up on my soapbox Wedding Wednesday-Bensday Wednesday Smalls 'n Bensday
What I've Been Reading
