Three Steps!

Not one step.
Not two steps.
Three steps!
My baby took three steps today. And then he took four.

It was spontaneous, so no pictures or video yet. But I've been replaying it over and over again in my head for the last three hours.

Three steps!

Toy Boxes

When we started collecting enough toys to warrant a toy box, my sister suggested footstools with storage. The idea was that with toy boxes masquerading as foot stools, our condo would return to being "organized and adultish". Now I'm just grasping for "slightly less crazy".

We immediately recognized the footstools' potential to keep Jett away from the tv.

You can see how well that worked out.

Two Food Truths

Just like my brother discovered that everything tastes better with Ranch dressing, Jett has discovered the other truth about food: everything tastes better with cheese. Strained peas. Pasta with red sauce. Strained summer vegetables. Blended carrots. Asparagus and mushrooms (just kidding - even Jett knows that nothing tastes good on asparagus and mushrooms, even when they're organic and freshly steamed and blended by mom).

Anyway. If we're in the middle of a meal and he's getting fussy, we just pull out the cheese. Place one tiny piece of shredded cheese on top of whatever it is that's on the spoon, and he just opens up his little mouth waiting to be fed. It's impossible to argue with him about the cheese, because I know he's right.

Your First Birthday

Dear Jett,

Your birthday was long ago and I haven't even written about it yet. I guess it's just because there's so much I want to say, and it's daunting to get started.

You're just the sweetest thing.

Daddy and I started celebrating your birthday a few days before the actual anniversary of your birth. We took you on the bus downtown to play in the fountains. Until last weekend you had never been on a bus before, and you were totally chill on your first trip. At the fountains it took a few minutes for you to get used to the water. (It didn't help that we unknowingly set you down in the coldest part of the fountain - sorry about that, buddy). You stayed still on your hands and knees, with one hand in the air until you were ready to start crawling.



But then you were off! You crawled the entire length of the fountain at least two times. You were one of the youngest babies there, and you were having so much fun, which means that so were Daddy and I.



After we ate lunch (outside in the stroller) and walked around the park for a while we stopped and bought popsicles. I was really looking forward to giving you your first taste of dessert, but by the time we bought the popsicle and found a nice shady spot in the grass, you were fast asleep. So we waited awhile to let you sleep, then we got on the bus to come home. It all sounds like such a simple day and I suppose it doesn't sound extraordinary, but it was, it was! My baby is a year old! I wanted to tell everyone on the bus.



But our day wasn't over. A friend had a barbecue, and his barbecue is in his backyard, and his backyard is covered in grass, so you were all over it. You were just so happy all day - like every day - and it just does a mama good to see her baby so happy.

The next day you had your first restaurant meal. It wasn't planned - but Daddy and I forgot your food. So Daddy ordered extra meatballs in his meatball sub and I ordered a salad with all kinds of Jett-friendly food on the top of it, and you had the lunch of your life. Eating lunch with your baby at a sandwich shop doesn't sound extraordinary, but it was! It was! I just kept thinking, "I have a baby! At a restaurant! Eating real food! And he's one year old!" I wanted to tell every single person who walked by.

Daddy and I were up late the night before your birthday. We decorated your bedroom door and baked you a cake - a double layer cake with white whipped, dripping frosting covered in sprinkles. The next morning I peeked into your room to find you sitting in the middle of your crib, talking aloud to the decorations on your door. I don't think I'm ever going to be able to take them down now, since they entertain you so well.



Somehow it didn't occur to either of us to take your birthday off to work, so we trudged to the bus stop, counting the minutes until we would get home. It was your birthday! So I was happy all day. I kept interrupting conversations at inappropriate times just to inform everyone that my baby is one year old!

Your birthday party was short and sweet. Grammy and Grandpa Bob came over, along with Ellie and her fam and our friend Monica. Somehow I think you knew that all of the attention was on you, and you hammed it up, smiling, and laughing, and giggling all evening. You opened presents and wore your birthday hat and crawled around all over the place. You even kissed Ellie on the lips.

We sang Happy Birthday to you, but you didn't really know how to take it. You just kind of hung out in my arms watching everyone sing to you. Then we sat you in your highchair and presented you with a piece of cake, which you ever so gingerly tasted with one little finger-full of frosting at a time. Finally when you were sure it was tasty you grabbed a fistful and aimed it at your face.



Amazingly enough, despite all of the fun and distractions, you fell asleep on cue and went to bed on time. Little do you know that the parties are just beginning. We still get to celebrate with my side of the family next week. I think I could celebrate your birthday every day for the rest of my life - actually, I already do.

_____________________________________

I didn't really want this post to be just a reporting of your birthday activities. I wanted to capture your one-year-old essence. The drool that drips shiny off your chin after you've kissed me, mouth open four or five times in a row. The feel of your warm, damp head after a few minutes of tickling and wrestling on your bedroom floor. The sound of your squeals during our ritual of chasing you and catching you and kissing you before bedtime. The clever little look on your face every time you drop your cup from your highchair. The way you start to close your eyes every time I get to the second verse of the lullabye. The way you let your head fall back and sleepily open your eyes half way to look up at me as I lay you in your crib.

Happy Birthday, sweet baby. We love you.

One

Oh, Jett. One year ago today, one year ago right now, I started pushing and the universe started pulling, and you started making your way into our world.

We think that's pretty terrific too. Happy Birthday, Jett! We love you!

Sidelines

Isn't the definition of "Family" sitting on the sidelines cheering somebody on? I know my parents spent years of their life sitting in folding chairs (or wishing they had remembered the folding chairs) in the sun, in the rain, in the wind, and the snow, watching their kids on the field.

Last Saturday Jett and I spent the first of what I'm sure will be many Saturdays on the sidelines, watching the dad play his game of soccer. I've actually been looking forward to this for a while, because spending part of a day outside on a soccer field isn't a bad way to spend the day. Of course I used to be the one on the field, and now I'm the mom on the sidelines hanging out with her baby on a sunny afternoon in the park.

After the Bath

Jett loves his bath. When I say the word "bath" he looks at the bathroom door and starts to grin. When I stand him naked next to the tub, he bounces up and down making his happy noises. When I turn the water on and wait for it to get warm, he whines. He's just so excited to get in the tub, and when I finally pick him up and set him in it, he looks all around, wondering how he got there.

He loves the rubber duck that covers the water faucet. He always tries to stand up and play with it, and every time he stands up, Charlie and I sit him back down. We run through the routine a dozen times almost every bath, and Jett never tires of it and rarely complains. He stands up, we sit him down, over and over again, until we can get him interested in the foam letters that stick to the side of the tub. He likes to chew on those. Sometimes he notices the drain, and spends minute after minute lifting it up and pushing it back down.

He also likes to lick the soap suds off his hands, suck on the washcloth, and drink the bathwater.

He doesn't like to get out of the bath, and he complains when we take him out and dry him off. But tonight he was in a good mood - he even let me dry his hair and leave the towel on his head. So I let him crawl around the house naked. It only seemed fair.

Diapers

The expense. The stench. The sheer number of times I've stood at the changing table, trying to fasten a diaper around a squirming Jett.

We've been living a diaper soap opera over here the last eleven months, with mysterious rashes needing identification, with the guilt of a thousand landfills, and the grossness of dunking cloth in the toilet and then wringing it out.

So I thought I'd tell you all about it.

Before Jett was born I decided that with everything else I had to learn, I wasn't going to overwhelm myself with trying to learn about cloth diapers when I already knew all about the disposable kind. I mean, my head was already swimming with a million details, I just couldn't cram one more bit of information - like how to wash a cloth diaper without contaminating my washing machine, how to fold a cloth diaper, and how to rinse the poop out before I washed it. I mean, gross. And like I said, I had enough non-gross stuff to think about, so forget about cloth diapers.

Then I talked to a friend who's very ecologically-minded. Rides her bike all over the place. Collects rainwater for her garden or something. She doesn't have a baby, but her friend does, and you know, she told me how easy cloth diapering is. She said a little poo in the washing machine wasn't going to kill me. And she's a doctor and all, so it got me thinking.

But then. Then my sister told me about the gdiaper. The flushable diaper. The diaper I wouldn't have to dunk in the toilet. The diaper that comes in many colors and is oh so stylish. Ahead of the times really, because they had just come to the U.S. I could be a trend-setter. Jett would be the most stylish baby on the block. And I'd be saving the planet, which is my second-highest priority, after making sure that Jett looks good in his diaper.

So I ordered the starter kit. They seemed to work, so I ordered a bunch more. In bulk. To save money. And he leaked through every single one. It seems he just didn't have the belly for them. Seriously, they were all baggy in the belly. And flushing them is hardly less gross than dunking them in the toilet anyway, because you still have to carry them to the bathroom and then rip them down the center before you toss them in the toilet, which pretty much means your hands are all over them. But still, what a disappointment. They were so cute. And now they're taking up valuable space in my closet. And I was going to save the planet.

Then another friend said she was going to put her baby in cloth diapers. And I am a follower and easily persuaded so I went over to her house before her baby was born and we tried all of her clean sparkling diapers on Jett. She showed me how to fold them and fasten them, and who knew there were so many different styles of diapers? Fleece and wool, cotton, and hemp. So many colors! So many different types of fasteners - velcro, snaps, little grippy things. They were actually cute. Oh so cute. I thought maybe I would give it a try. Because you know, I want to save the planet and stop global warming and reduce the landfills.

So I bought five, in three different styles. They work great. Once I figured out what size he was and started putting him in the right size, they rarely leaked. They looked cute. I felt like a good citizen of the earth. It's just that I kept forgetting to wash them. Or I just simply didn't have time to wash them. And that, my friends, is gross. Stinky. And exasperates Charlie.

And that's the thing. How is a person supposed to get everything they need to get done in a day and fit in a load of wash? It sounds easy, but it's not. Especially when you aren't home half the week. I don't care what anyone says. Disposable diapers are easier. And that is the secret to life at the moment - making it easy.

So I struck a compromise with my fashionable side, my practical side, and my ecological side and have been using the cloth diapers on the weekends. Most weekends. Well, many weekends at least. The rest of the week we use disposables. But I started recycling to make up for that. (I know, I know, it doesn't really make up for it).

Actually, having a kid is pretty inspiring. It makes you look to the future and all that. Makes you want to give your kid a clean and healthy planet.

So every few months I drag the gdiapers out of the closet and try them on Jett again. Last weekend he wore three in a row and didn't leak at all, so I think we'll try them again this weekend. And then maybe I'll start using them during the week a bit - since I shouldn't have to wash them. I guess I can put up with the mess of carrying them to the bathroom and all. They're just so cute. I mean, I want to save the earth.

Push!

Jett learns something new every day. Last week he started playing with his toy bus the way it is meant to be played with. No longer does he just flip the bus over so he can spin the wheels. He actually pushes it and makes it go. Sometimes he sits in one place and pushes it around himself in a circle. Other times he crawls along behind it and pushes all the way across the floor. I'm just waiting for him to start making the "vroom, vroom!" sound to go with it.



Yesterday he was able to place his tiny wooden car on the tiny wooden ramp. He learned how to push the car down the ramp a few weeks ago, but until yesterday he wasn't able to set it down correctly on the track. One day later he's a pro at it. Way to go, Jett!

Step One

You're so sweet, Jett. You took your first step today.

Daddy had given you an orange to play with, which you were rolling all over the house. You and your orange made your way over to the arm of the couch, where your sippy cup was laying on it's side. You stood up, orange in hand, and tried to drink from the overturned sippy cup. (At this point I stopped folding clothes and started watching you, to see how you were going to manage standing, holding the orange, and drinking from the overturned sippy cup all at the same time). What you did was, you tossed the orange down on the ground and watched it roll to the fireplace. Then you tossed your sippy cup on the ground at your feet. You looked back to the orange, and it looked like you wanted it, so I told you to go ahead and walk on over to that orange. You looked like you were considering it, and then I was afraid that you really would walk over there - and your first steps would be on wood and granite, in front of a glass-covered fireplace. So I quickly dropped the sheet I was folding, knelt down on the carpet and asked you to walk to mama, jett, walk to mama. I held my arms out, you held your arms out, I smiled at you, you smiled at me, and you took your first barefoot step. (It was with your right foot). I leaned in, you leaned in, and then your little arms were around my neck, and it was all over, quick as a wink.

Daddy watched from the kitchen, where he was writing a grocery list. It's funny how such an extraordinary thing can happen at such an ordinary time.

But we still love him

Ok, I admit it. He does get fussy once in a while.