January 15, 2010
He's 15 months old today. What? WHAT?
Even though he's long since corrected the pronunciation of his name (Eye-zah, he says now), his first attempt has stuck, at least with me. Zah. Zahbah. Zahbahdahbah. That last one, of course, gets sung to the tune of "Mahna Mahna" by the Muppets. I don't think anyone finds that as amusing as I do, but I can't help it. He's just so very, very Zah.
He drops his cup off the edge of his highchair and sighs to himself: Ohzah. Ohno.
He points to one of the dozens of photos we have on the wall: Baybee.
He picks up the phone: Havoh?
He waves: Baybye.
He reaches for me: Uppah.
He stacks blocks: Ididit!
He blows kisses: Mmwah!
He sees something wondrously impressive, like a light switch, the dog, a very exciting bit of paper: Ohwow! Ohwow. OH. WOW.
He pushes a crust of bread around his tray like a car: Vroommmm!
He wants to use a fork and a spoon so badly that he'll sit on the floor with one, practicing over and over. He gets the empty utensil into his mouth: Yum!
He can sign "more" and "sleep" and "drink." And though that last one is supposed to an index finger moving from chin to throat, his version is a bit more insistent, as he just jabs the finger straight into his mouth. And if you aren't paying attention the very second he signs "more," he will still unleash that crazy, eardrum-splitting scream of righteous anguish.The sign for "milk" vanished when he weaned and he will not use it anymore, no matter what.
He still eats everything, and SO MUCH OF IT. His breakfast these days consists of a milk/yogurt/fruit smoothie, two scrambled eggs, a waffle, some Cheerios and an unbelievable number of blueberries. Or maybe a pear or two. Sometimes there's chicken sausage. An hour later he'll be raiding the pantry while my back is turned, gnawing on some uncooked egg noodles that he found lurking behind the rows of canned goods.
Up the stairs, down the stairs. All day, only taking breaks for naps and egg noodles. He does not particularly like books, the TV is only fun for turning on and off, he just wants to do is go go go open close explore climb overturn look behind on top of go go go.
I reread this list and think, "This is not a baby. This is a little boy, already." Then I look at him, with his downy hair and chubby cheeks and zombie walk, and I think, "Nope, baby. Still. Always."
PS. WOW HOLY SAPPY BATMAN. If you need a return to the snarking, the season's first Project Runway recap is up?