I forgot to mention in the last posting that William had his official twelve-month doctor's appointment on Friday. He's coming along just fine. He weights 23 pounds and 12.6 ounces and is 75.5 cm long. He's tracking along the growth curve around the 50 or 60th percentile, which is just about where he's been the whole time. We put off the vaccinations until next week, when his rash will have faded.
Dr. Perkins asked about certain milestones. So I thought I'd catalogue some of the things that William's doing these days here, since they're fresh in my mind.
William's words. These are the words that we recognize as meaning a certain thing, words that he uses over and over again. Cat. Duck. Ball. Dada. Bye-bye. David swears that William also says a version of the word Light, and I really think he's starting to say Up, too. He also babbles other words that we don't understand, which the experts call jargon. He's doing really well on his spoken language, but his receptive language skills are even better than his communicative language skills. For example, last night I asked him to go find his school bus toy, and he crawled off and selected the Fisher Price Little People school bus from a big tangle of toys on the floor. He actually recognized the words "school bus." He also knows words like "water," "milk," "Cheerios," "cheese," and "banana." Hmm, notice how those are all food words. That's par for the course, I think; food is Very Important to William. Especially bananas. Uh oh. I just thought of something. Am I going to have to start spelling certain words when I don't want William to know what I'm talking about? Am I going to be in big trouble if he learns to spell at a really young age, like I did?
William's fine motor skills. William has a good pincer grasp. He can pick up small objects like Cheerios with no problem. He's particularly good at dropping Cheerios off his high chair and picking things up and throwing them across the room, thereby making a big mess. Dr. Perkins asked me if he could scribble yet. At first I looked at her like she had grown a second head because if I gave William a crayon, he'd eat it, not draw with it. But then she handed William her pen and showed him how to draw circles on the paper on the exam table. And believe it or not, he actually tried to do just that. So hey, I was surprised, too. I guess I should put down some big sheets of newsprint and get out the crayons and see what he can do. He's receptive to drinking from an open cup, so we're working on that now, too. I still give him a leak-proof sippy cup, but I let him drink out of a regular cup sometimes for practice. Needless to say, I hold onto the cup when we do that.
Standing and walking. William's not walking yet, but he pulls up to standing on everything. And he is cruising. In fact, just in the last week or two, his confidence has improved, so his cruising is becoming more adventurous. Sometime he still drops to his knees to crawl because it's faster for him to get around that way, but it's common now for him to quickly walk the entire length of the coffee table, holding on to the side. This morning, he even took some gleeful, tentative steps while holding onto his little walker-pushcart things. His legs were kind of stiff, and David hovered over him in case his feet got out from under him, but still, it was progress.
William is really turning into a toddler. I bought a copy of What to Expect: The Toddler Years and read the chapter for the thirteenth month last night. It really captured all of the things that William is doing right now, like throwing food off the high chair to see what Mommy will do and all that fun stuff. He's not a baby anymore! But he's still a sweet little boy. He gives hugs and kisses, and no matter how many Cheerios I've picked up off the floor, a quick snuggle and a gummy slobbery kis from William makes it all worthwhile.
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Friday, April 27, 2007
Rash
The fun never stops. William's got hand-foot-and-mouth disease, caused by the coxsackie virus. It's the sort of virus that runs rampant through daycares and playgroups, and guess what made its way into William's playgroup at the Y? Mmmhmmm.
He had a fever earlier this week, and then I noticed a mild rash on his chest. The rash began to spread and darken. David looked at it and diagnosed it. The fever disappeared, luckily, but the rash spread some more. The good news: William seems to be back to his old self, but the bad news is that he's an itchy little fellow for now. Dr. Perkins examined him this morning and recommended that I put some antibiotic cream on his legs and buttocks where he's been grabbing his skin and scratching for all he's worth. She also said I could give him some infant motrin, in addition to the benadryl that I've been giving him.
And she said to just make sure he's getting enough to drink and not to worry too much about food. Poor little guy! I didn't even really think about how the sores in his throat and mouth might make eating a little unpleasant until David said something. He told me not to worry if all William wants to eat for a few days are things like yogurt and bananas. Yesterday, William sat in his high chair and batted away my hands when I attempted to serve him some baby food (carrots, beef and potatoes, in a mix). He just sat there and sobbed "Beh! Beh! Beh!" at me. The lightbulb flickered on over my head when I realized, "He's begging for a banana." Problem solved! He'd already eaten one banana for lunch, but who's going to withhold a banana from a sick baby? Especially a sick baby who's asking for a banana, with such a piteous look on his face. Not me. No sir.
So. The rash should start fading soon, but in the meantime, I guess I need to go buy some more bananas.
He had a fever earlier this week, and then I noticed a mild rash on his chest. The rash began to spread and darken. David looked at it and diagnosed it. The fever disappeared, luckily, but the rash spread some more. The good news: William seems to be back to his old self, but the bad news is that he's an itchy little fellow for now. Dr. Perkins examined him this morning and recommended that I put some antibiotic cream on his legs and buttocks where he's been grabbing his skin and scratching for all he's worth. She also said I could give him some infant motrin, in addition to the benadryl that I've been giving him.
And she said to just make sure he's getting enough to drink and not to worry too much about food. Poor little guy! I didn't even really think about how the sores in his throat and mouth might make eating a little unpleasant until David said something. He told me not to worry if all William wants to eat for a few days are things like yogurt and bananas. Yesterday, William sat in his high chair and batted away my hands when I attempted to serve him some baby food (carrots, beef and potatoes, in a mix). He just sat there and sobbed "Beh! Beh! Beh!" at me. The lightbulb flickered on over my head when I realized, "He's begging for a banana." Problem solved! He'd already eaten one banana for lunch, but who's going to withhold a banana from a sick baby? Especially a sick baby who's asking for a banana, with such a piteous look on his face. Not me. No sir.
So. The rash should start fading soon, but in the meantime, I guess I need to go buy some more bananas.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
More birthday pictures
Here are just a few more pictures from William's birthday at the Angels game. For the record, the home team won, beating the Seattle Mariners 6-1. We stayed for almost the whole game, leaving our seats at the top of the ninth inning.
Here we are, entering the stadium:
And here are some action shots of the birthday boy, enjoying the game:
Here we are, entering the stadium:
And here are some action shots of the birthday boy, enjoying the game:
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Happy First Birthday, William!
Dear William,
One year ago today, your father and I welcomed you into our arms and into our lives. You were born at 6:35 a.m. at the Robert E. Bush Naval Hospital here in Twentynine Palms, after a very long night of labor. When they placed you on my chest, your eyes were open. You looked around the room, while I just stared at you, marveling that your eyes were open and noticing that your tiny perfect little fingernails were still tinged with blue. I was exhausted, stunned and awed.
Your daddy was relieved that you arrived safely, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw him sag with that relief. Vaguely I heard him ask someone--anyone--to give you some oxygen. (Later he explained that it was hard for the daddy part of him to shut off the doctor part of him; the blue fingernails got him all worried, even though he knew that you were perfectly fine.) I couldn't stop looking at you. I just couldn't believe you were here at last! It was you. I felt like I knew you and yet didn't know you at all. I think I introduced myself to you, then a member of the hospital staff took you off to the warmer to clean you up. A few minutes later, they brought you back to me so that you could learn how to nurse. I remember singing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" in a very hoarse voice to you, as I held you, wrapped in a hospital blanket and topped with a little pink-and-blue knit cap. At some point, a nurse dressed you in a diaper and tiny little hospital T-shirt. Your daddy spent a lot of time holding you over the next few hours, talking to you, looking at you.
The rest of that day, our first day together that began just after dawn, is sort of a blur. I remember eating the most glorious plate of waffles ever for breakfast, and I remember that your daddy made a whole slew of calls to family and friends from his cell phone. I remember people coming by to see you and saying how handsome you were. And I remember how your father carefully changed your diapers and swaddled you in a blanket before holding you or lying you in the little bassinette next to my bed.
A year has passed. So much has happened. You have changed so much!
We took you to see a major league baseball game in Anaheim today in honor of your first birthday, and I remarked how much more fun it was to be watching home runs at the stadium than it was to be recovering from childbirth in a hospital. But more importantly, it was more fun to be with you, as you giggled at the beach balls floating through the crowds and pointed with curiosity at the cotton candy man. Your daddy and I laughed along with you. It was a great way to spend your first birthday.
I just want to say two more things. One, I'm so glad you're here and that you're you! And second, your father and I love you so very much that I think you'll have to be a parent yourself one day to fully understand what that means.
Happy First Birthday, William!
Love, Mommy
One year ago today, your father and I welcomed you into our arms and into our lives. You were born at 6:35 a.m. at the Robert E. Bush Naval Hospital here in Twentynine Palms, after a very long night of labor. When they placed you on my chest, your eyes were open. You looked around the room, while I just stared at you, marveling that your eyes were open and noticing that your tiny perfect little fingernails were still tinged with blue. I was exhausted, stunned and awed.
Your daddy was relieved that you arrived safely, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw him sag with that relief. Vaguely I heard him ask someone--anyone--to give you some oxygen. (Later he explained that it was hard for the daddy part of him to shut off the doctor part of him; the blue fingernails got him all worried, even though he knew that you were perfectly fine.) I couldn't stop looking at you. I just couldn't believe you were here at last! It was you. I felt like I knew you and yet didn't know you at all. I think I introduced myself to you, then a member of the hospital staff took you off to the warmer to clean you up. A few minutes later, they brought you back to me so that you could learn how to nurse. I remember singing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" in a very hoarse voice to you, as I held you, wrapped in a hospital blanket and topped with a little pink-and-blue knit cap. At some point, a nurse dressed you in a diaper and tiny little hospital T-shirt. Your daddy spent a lot of time holding you over the next few hours, talking to you, looking at you.
The rest of that day, our first day together that began just after dawn, is sort of a blur. I remember eating the most glorious plate of waffles ever for breakfast, and I remember that your daddy made a whole slew of calls to family and friends from his cell phone. I remember people coming by to see you and saying how handsome you were. And I remember how your father carefully changed your diapers and swaddled you in a blanket before holding you or lying you in the little bassinette next to my bed.
A year has passed. So much has happened. You have changed so much!
We took you to see a major league baseball game in Anaheim today in honor of your first birthday, and I remarked how much more fun it was to be watching home runs at the stadium than it was to be recovering from childbirth in a hospital. But more importantly, it was more fun to be with you, as you giggled at the beach balls floating through the crowds and pointed with curiosity at the cotton candy man. Your daddy and I laughed along with you. It was a great way to spend your first birthday.
I just want to say two more things. One, I'm so glad you're here and that you're you! And second, your father and I love you so very much that I think you'll have to be a parent yourself one day to fully understand what that means.
Happy First Birthday, William!
Love, Mommy
Saturday, April 21, 2007
Cake Day
We celebrated William's first birthday party this afternoon. Whee! We still have one more day to go before his official birthday, but today was Cake Day.
Here was my set-up.
I made the cake yesterday from a recipe I found on the Internet. It's called Wacky Cake, and it's basically sugar, flour, cocoa, vanilla, canola oil and water. Unfortunately, it sank in the middle, so I had to really glop on the vanilla frosting to hide that little problem. I also made a batch of white cupcakes and gave them a coating of chocolate or vanilla frosting. The cake says "Happy First Birthday William," and the cupakes have either the letter W or the number 1. That's about as Martha Stewart as I can possibly get. I was just all proud that you can actually read the message on the cake.
It was deceptively simple, I decided. If I'm this tired after having a small party for a one-year-old, what's it going to be like when I try to put on a full-fledged party for an older kid in the future? It seems that I'm always posting about how tired I am, but in this case, I am not just whistling Dixie.
But it was so fun. We just invited a few close friends over for cake and lemonade this afternoon. Here's a picture of William playing with his friend Madison:
He received some terrific presents, too. Madison gave him a dump truck filled with Mega Blocks, and Jadyn's gift was an electronic drum that lights up and plays music. David and I finally gave him the fire engine toy that we originally bought for his Christmas present--and we also gave him a couple of Little People toys, including the Little People garage.
William clowning around with his mom:
Then it was Cake Time.
I like to call this picture "Before the Mess." You will soon see exactly why I chose that title.
David lit the candle on the cake. My friend Jennifer and I took photos madly while David presented the (entire) cake to his son.
At first, William seemed a little confused. "Why are you giving this to me?" he seemed to say. "What exactly is this?" He tentatively dipped his fingers into the gooey vanilla icing, then experimentally licked them. His eyes widened, as the sugar raced through his esophagus, into his tummy, and out into his bloodstream. When David took the cake away to cut a slice for him, William began to fuss. Quickly, David presented him with his very own plate of chocolate cake.
Tingling from the seductive first taste of serious sugar, William got down to the serious business of cramming as much cake into his little mouth as he possibly could.
In fact, William ate cake like he was in a race. I joked that he must have believed that someone gave it to him by accident and he was eating it as fast as he could before they realized their mistake and took it away from him. This is a young man, after all, who has lived his whole short life, eating foods like rice cereal, bananas, cheese, turkey sticks, green beans and ravioli. A good food day for him includes high fiber foods like sweet potatoes and whole wheat Ritz crackers. But to eat cake at last! I could just see him thinking, "Oh my God, where have they been hiding the good stuff all these months" as he stuffed fist after fist of cake and frosting into his mouth. Sometimes he smashed an entire open palm into his face because it maximized the cake-eating potential. He had cake in his hair. He had cake in his nose.
If he could write, he might write an Ode to Cake. Cake. Cake. Cakecakecakecakecakecake. CAKE. Know how much he loved eating cake? He said the word "cake." On camera. Twice.
I decided that he ought to have a cupcake, too. If you're going to be decadent, you need to go all out. That's how I see it. He was already so high on sugar, that what was one little white cupcake really going to do? More cake! Bliss.
After the cake extravaganza, David carried off the sugar-stunned little guy and plopped him in the bathtub for a much-needed bath. Madison and Jadyn stuck around and played with his toys and visited with me, and William took a nap. Amazingly enough, he actually wanted to eat dinner when he awoke. And he finally took a ride on his fire engine.
What a day! I turned my child into a Cake Junkie. Mission Accomplished. Cake is one of the simple pleasures in life, as far as I'm concerned, and it was incredibly fun to watch William experience it for the first time. Tomorrow we head to Anaheim to take in an Angels game for William's actual first birthday.
Here was my set-up.
I made the cake yesterday from a recipe I found on the Internet. It's called Wacky Cake, and it's basically sugar, flour, cocoa, vanilla, canola oil and water. Unfortunately, it sank in the middle, so I had to really glop on the vanilla frosting to hide that little problem. I also made a batch of white cupcakes and gave them a coating of chocolate or vanilla frosting. The cake says "Happy First Birthday William," and the cupakes have either the letter W or the number 1. That's about as Martha Stewart as I can possibly get. I was just all proud that you can actually read the message on the cake.
It was deceptively simple, I decided. If I'm this tired after having a small party for a one-year-old, what's it going to be like when I try to put on a full-fledged party for an older kid in the future? It seems that I'm always posting about how tired I am, but in this case, I am not just whistling Dixie.
But it was so fun. We just invited a few close friends over for cake and lemonade this afternoon. Here's a picture of William playing with his friend Madison:
He received some terrific presents, too. Madison gave him a dump truck filled with Mega Blocks, and Jadyn's gift was an electronic drum that lights up and plays music. David and I finally gave him the fire engine toy that we originally bought for his Christmas present--and we also gave him a couple of Little People toys, including the Little People garage.
William clowning around with his mom:
Then it was Cake Time.
I like to call this picture "Before the Mess." You will soon see exactly why I chose that title.
David lit the candle on the cake. My friend Jennifer and I took photos madly while David presented the (entire) cake to his son.
At first, William seemed a little confused. "Why are you giving this to me?" he seemed to say. "What exactly is this?" He tentatively dipped his fingers into the gooey vanilla icing, then experimentally licked them. His eyes widened, as the sugar raced through his esophagus, into his tummy, and out into his bloodstream. When David took the cake away to cut a slice for him, William began to fuss. Quickly, David presented him with his very own plate of chocolate cake.
Tingling from the seductive first taste of serious sugar, William got down to the serious business of cramming as much cake into his little mouth as he possibly could.
In fact, William ate cake like he was in a race. I joked that he must have believed that someone gave it to him by accident and he was eating it as fast as he could before they realized their mistake and took it away from him. This is a young man, after all, who has lived his whole short life, eating foods like rice cereal, bananas, cheese, turkey sticks, green beans and ravioli. A good food day for him includes high fiber foods like sweet potatoes and whole wheat Ritz crackers. But to eat cake at last! I could just see him thinking, "Oh my God, where have they been hiding the good stuff all these months" as he stuffed fist after fist of cake and frosting into his mouth. Sometimes he smashed an entire open palm into his face because it maximized the cake-eating potential. He had cake in his hair. He had cake in his nose.
If he could write, he might write an Ode to Cake. Cake. Cake. Cakecakecakecakecakecake. CAKE. Know how much he loved eating cake? He said the word "cake." On camera. Twice.
I decided that he ought to have a cupcake, too. If you're going to be decadent, you need to go all out. That's how I see it. He was already so high on sugar, that what was one little white cupcake really going to do? More cake! Bliss.
After the cake extravaganza, David carried off the sugar-stunned little guy and plopped him in the bathtub for a much-needed bath. Madison and Jadyn stuck around and played with his toys and visited with me, and William took a nap. Amazingly enough, he actually wanted to eat dinner when he awoke. And he finally took a ride on his fire engine.
What a day! I turned my child into a Cake Junkie. Mission Accomplished. Cake is one of the simple pleasures in life, as far as I'm concerned, and it was incredibly fun to watch William experience it for the first time. Tomorrow we head to Anaheim to take in an Angels game for William's actual first birthday.
Friday, April 20, 2007
W Day is Approaching--let's see how much he's changed...
As we approach W-Day (the day William was born), I've been reflecting a lot about the past year. I still marvel at how big and active he is now, and it still amazes me that he is the same person who was a tiny little baby just a few months ago.
I know this might sound strange, but I really do love William more now than I did then. I loved him when he was new, but I think it was a more abstract love. I loved him then because I was his mother, because he had grown in my belly, and he was mine. It is somehow more instinctive for me to love him now than it was when I first met him face to face. Now I love him because he is William. He is silly and cheerful and cranky and sleepy and wide-awake, and he "kisses" my cheek and throws chunks of banana on the floor. He grows and changes and does new things every day. One day, the William I know and love had a tooth and was saying "cat." Then, a couple of weeks later, the William I know and love had two teeth and was saying "duck." He'll be doing something else soon, and I will love him then. As cliched as I know it sounds, I really do love him more each day. (That doesn't mean that I like picking up pieces of banana off the floor all the time, of course.)
But it's still fun to remember what he was like Back Then (remember being the key word, since I wouldn't actually like to be that sleep-deprived again).
Let's play Compare and Contrast, shall we?
David giving William his sippy cup this evening (or rather, William sprawled out all over David as he drank his sippy cup on his own):
And here's a picture, taken last May, of David giving William one of his very first bottles:
David pretty much looks the same, from what I can tell. Maybe the circles under his eyes were darker in May. William is three times the size he was in that May picture.
Let's contrast Baby William with Big Boy William some more.
Baby William, just a few weeks old:
Big Boy William, just last weekend in San Diego:
He's put a little meat on those old bones, hasn't he?
Baby William last spring with his mommy:
William this spring with his mommy:
Okay, I'm having a really good time with this. This is fun!
Last April...
This April...
In this picture, we have David holding his brand new son, who just arrived home from the hospital the previous day:
New Baby William with his kitty cat Corky:
A more current picture of father and son. Here, David helps William put on the preppy shoes that are part of his Grandaddy Aaron Wyckoff ensemble:
And just so you can see...William has far outgrown the cats. Poor Corky. She didn't know how good she had it back then. She knows now. Yet, for some reason, she still hangs around with William, as if drawn to him against her better judgment. Here's a more recent picture of William with Corky (they were watching out the patio door for hummingbirds in the honeysuckle):
Hard to believe it's the same baby! But I think you can still tell.
The little prince--the Early Days:
A Portrait of the Little Prince the next spring:
I know this might sound strange, but I really do love William more now than I did then. I loved him when he was new, but I think it was a more abstract love. I loved him then because I was his mother, because he had grown in my belly, and he was mine. It is somehow more instinctive for me to love him now than it was when I first met him face to face. Now I love him because he is William. He is silly and cheerful and cranky and sleepy and wide-awake, and he "kisses" my cheek and throws chunks of banana on the floor. He grows and changes and does new things every day. One day, the William I know and love had a tooth and was saying "cat." Then, a couple of weeks later, the William I know and love had two teeth and was saying "duck." He'll be doing something else soon, and I will love him then. As cliched as I know it sounds, I really do love him more each day. (That doesn't mean that I like picking up pieces of banana off the floor all the time, of course.)
But it's still fun to remember what he was like Back Then (remember being the key word, since I wouldn't actually like to be that sleep-deprived again).
Let's play Compare and Contrast, shall we?
David giving William his sippy cup this evening (or rather, William sprawled out all over David as he drank his sippy cup on his own):
And here's a picture, taken last May, of David giving William one of his very first bottles:
David pretty much looks the same, from what I can tell. Maybe the circles under his eyes were darker in May. William is three times the size he was in that May picture.
Let's contrast Baby William with Big Boy William some more.
Baby William, just a few weeks old:
Big Boy William, just last weekend in San Diego:
He's put a little meat on those old bones, hasn't he?
Baby William last spring with his mommy:
William this spring with his mommy:
Okay, I'm having a really good time with this. This is fun!
Last April...
This April...
In this picture, we have David holding his brand new son, who just arrived home from the hospital the previous day:
New Baby William with his kitty cat Corky:
A more current picture of father and son. Here, David helps William put on the preppy shoes that are part of his Grandaddy Aaron Wyckoff ensemble:
And just so you can see...William has far outgrown the cats. Poor Corky. She didn't know how good she had it back then. She knows now. Yet, for some reason, she still hangs around with William, as if drawn to him against her better judgment. Here's a more recent picture of William with Corky (they were watching out the patio door for hummingbirds in the honeysuckle):
Hard to believe it's the same baby! But I think you can still tell.
The little prince--the Early Days:
A Portrait of the Little Prince the next spring:
Thursday, April 19, 2007
A few random photos from this week
Aunt Nancy was here this week!
Jennifer, William and Nancy:
It was really nice to have Nancy visiting us here in the Stumps...again! She has the record for most visits to 29 Palms not made by my mother. The first time she was here, William was only five weeks old. Now he's a big strapping almost-one-year-old baby. With two teeth on the bottom gum and one more coming in on the top!
********
This is sort of an action shot. William's new favorite thing is for his daddy to pick him up and "fly" him around the room. I present to you...SUPERWILLIAM!
Do do do do do, DO do do. Do do do do do, DO DO DO! (The sound effect is mandatory, of course. How else would you know it was SUPERWILLIAM swooping by?)
And I meant to post this along with the entry about our trip to San Diego. This is a picture taken on Sunday afternoon of me, William and my lovely friend Kristin, the one who graciously hosted us at her one-bedroom apartment when William was two months old. And she's still friends with us!
It had been awhile since Kristin had seen William, too. We met up with her for dinner back in the fall, but obviously William's changed a lot since then.
Jennifer, William and Nancy:
It was really nice to have Nancy visiting us here in the Stumps...again! She has the record for most visits to 29 Palms not made by my mother. The first time she was here, William was only five weeks old. Now he's a big strapping almost-one-year-old baby. With two teeth on the bottom gum and one more coming in on the top!
********
This is sort of an action shot. William's new favorite thing is for his daddy to pick him up and "fly" him around the room. I present to you...SUPERWILLIAM!
Do do do do do, DO do do. Do do do do do, DO DO DO! (The sound effect is mandatory, of course. How else would you know it was SUPERWILLIAM swooping by?)
And I meant to post this along with the entry about our trip to San Diego. This is a picture taken on Sunday afternoon of me, William and my lovely friend Kristin, the one who graciously hosted us at her one-bedroom apartment when William was two months old. And she's still friends with us!
It had been awhile since Kristin had seen William, too. We met up with her for dinner back in the fall, but obviously William's changed a lot since then.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
San Diego Zoo
My dad tried to convince me that it wasn't worthwhile to take William to the zoo while he's still so young. "He won't remember it," he pointed out. "Why not wait to take him when he's older?"
True. We'll have to tell him about this zoo trip when he's older. But William still seemed to enjoy himself at the San Diego Zoo last Saturda. How do we know he was having fun? Well, at first, he just sat in his stroller and leaned forward, taking it all in with huge wide eyes. Then he loosened up. He pointed to animals and said, "Ba!" That's how you know William's feeling pretty happy.
And we were far from among the only parents with a child his age. In fact, it seemed like we looked like nearly every other family there! Mom with stroller and camera, check. Dad with baby, check. Bag of souvenirs, hanging from stroller handle, check. Isn't it funny how I never noticed all these families before I became a mother, and suddenly they're everywhere. It's similar to the phenomenon when you buy, say, a blue sedan, and suddenly everywhere you go, you spot other people driving the same blue sedan.
David or I carried William through several exhibits so he could get a better look at the animals. William got to see the orangutans, including one who was posing just on the other side of the glass, and he got to check out the pandas, lazing around in their yard. And yes, he pointed to the panda and said "Ba." We will assume that he meant "bear." And you know what? I think he really was interested in the bear. Maybe because it was such a distinctive black and white, set in relief against the green of the grass and trees? Maybe because he recognized the panda from some of his books? I don't know. It doesn't really matter. It was still fun. And I picked up a few panda souvenirs for us in the nearby gift shop (sucker that I am, yes), and then we moved on to the zebra exhibit.
Here we are in front of the Sun Bear Canyon sign:
Sadly, the polar bears weren't much of a show. David has always loved polar bears, so we wanted to make sure we saw them. I was hoping that we'd get to see one twisting through the water so we could spy on him from below the tank. We pointed out one lone polar bear, sunning himself on a high rock, but I don't think William was especially interested. As the sun crept up in the sky and the crowds of tourists thickened, William began getting a little grumpy. By the time we huffed and puffed our way to the hippo exhibit, the little prince had fallen asleep in his stroller. David got quite the workout, pushing the stroller back around the tiger exhibit, through the monkey area, and back to the entrance. (Was the SD Zoo always that hilly? Who needs to go to the gym when you can push a fully loaded Peg Perego around the zoo?)
We ended up only staying the zoo for about three hours. Which is just about the right amount of time when you have a baby with you. We did skip some exhibits, and I decided I was too scared to take William on the Skyfari ride, high above the park, so we headed out. I felt bad for the families who forked over big bucks to take their whole families to the zoo for the day, though: in order to get your money's worth, you really have to stay all day, and the prospect of that makes me feel tired even now. We'd have been dead if we'd tried that. Grandaddy Dudley once said, after a long day at DisneyWorld about 20 years ago, that he'd walked so much that "my feet are worn off to my knees!" Exactly.
David wanted to go eat lunch on Coronado, so we decided to eat at this seafood place on the bay.
It was a nice place. Here's a photo of William and David pointing to the lights and saying "Ba."
The food was good, but I don't think we endeared ourselves to the waitress or the nearby diners. William was in a good mood, so he banged his hands on the table and called and screeched and talked. I rapidly tore off pieces of a roll and stuffed them into his mouth as fast as I could to keep him quiet, but it only marginally worked. David took over feeding duty, and I pulled out some cheese, which of course, William can't resist. But we couldn't seem to feed him enough to keep him from being extremely loud. And...you knew this was coming...then when he finally had a full belly, he began to groan and grunt and turn red. And in true William style, he put on the full show. At full volume. At this point what could we really do? So David and I just giggled. I felt sort of bad for the people sitting near us, but I finally decided that they could have asked to be moved to another table. The restaurant wasn't even half full, it was long after the busy lunch rush, and there were other tables with kids, some of whom weren't exactly silent, either. So our child was a little rowdy. It wasn't like it was evening. Big deal. David and I enjoyed our chocolate lava cake, and then we waddled to the car.
True. We'll have to tell him about this zoo trip when he's older. But William still seemed to enjoy himself at the San Diego Zoo last Saturda. How do we know he was having fun? Well, at first, he just sat in his stroller and leaned forward, taking it all in with huge wide eyes. Then he loosened up. He pointed to animals and said, "Ba!" That's how you know William's feeling pretty happy.
And we were far from among the only parents with a child his age. In fact, it seemed like we looked like nearly every other family there! Mom with stroller and camera, check. Dad with baby, check. Bag of souvenirs, hanging from stroller handle, check. Isn't it funny how I never noticed all these families before I became a mother, and suddenly they're everywhere. It's similar to the phenomenon when you buy, say, a blue sedan, and suddenly everywhere you go, you spot other people driving the same blue sedan.
David or I carried William through several exhibits so he could get a better look at the animals. William got to see the orangutans, including one who was posing just on the other side of the glass, and he got to check out the pandas, lazing around in their yard. And yes, he pointed to the panda and said "Ba." We will assume that he meant "bear." And you know what? I think he really was interested in the bear. Maybe because it was such a distinctive black and white, set in relief against the green of the grass and trees? Maybe because he recognized the panda from some of his books? I don't know. It doesn't really matter. It was still fun. And I picked up a few panda souvenirs for us in the nearby gift shop (sucker that I am, yes), and then we moved on to the zebra exhibit.
Here we are in front of the Sun Bear Canyon sign:
Sadly, the polar bears weren't much of a show. David has always loved polar bears, so we wanted to make sure we saw them. I was hoping that we'd get to see one twisting through the water so we could spy on him from below the tank. We pointed out one lone polar bear, sunning himself on a high rock, but I don't think William was especially interested. As the sun crept up in the sky and the crowds of tourists thickened, William began getting a little grumpy. By the time we huffed and puffed our way to the hippo exhibit, the little prince had fallen asleep in his stroller. David got quite the workout, pushing the stroller back around the tiger exhibit, through the monkey area, and back to the entrance. (Was the SD Zoo always that hilly? Who needs to go to the gym when you can push a fully loaded Peg Perego around the zoo?)
We ended up only staying the zoo for about three hours. Which is just about the right amount of time when you have a baby with you. We did skip some exhibits, and I decided I was too scared to take William on the Skyfari ride, high above the park, so we headed out. I felt bad for the families who forked over big bucks to take their whole families to the zoo for the day, though: in order to get your money's worth, you really have to stay all day, and the prospect of that makes me feel tired even now. We'd have been dead if we'd tried that. Grandaddy Dudley once said, after a long day at DisneyWorld about 20 years ago, that he'd walked so much that "my feet are worn off to my knees!" Exactly.
David wanted to go eat lunch on Coronado, so we decided to eat at this seafood place on the bay.
It was a nice place. Here's a photo of William and David pointing to the lights and saying "Ba."
The food was good, but I don't think we endeared ourselves to the waitress or the nearby diners. William was in a good mood, so he banged his hands on the table and called and screeched and talked. I rapidly tore off pieces of a roll and stuffed them into his mouth as fast as I could to keep him quiet, but it only marginally worked. David took over feeding duty, and I pulled out some cheese, which of course, William can't resist. But we couldn't seem to feed him enough to keep him from being extremely loud. And...you knew this was coming...then when he finally had a full belly, he began to groan and grunt and turn red. And in true William style, he put on the full show. At full volume. At this point what could we really do? So David and I just giggled. I felt sort of bad for the people sitting near us, but I finally decided that they could have asked to be moved to another table. The restaurant wasn't even half full, it was long after the busy lunch rush, and there were other tables with kids, some of whom weren't exactly silent, either. So our child was a little rowdy. It wasn't like it was evening. Big deal. David and I enjoyed our chocolate lava cake, and then we waddled to the car.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Spent, totally spent
We spent a long weekend in San Diego this past weekend, and all I can coherently express right now is that I'm beat. We took William to the famous San Diego Zoo, we ate at a few of our old favorite restaurants, and we visited with my friend Kristin. It was lovely, it really was.
And I am now spent. David is spent. William sacked out the second we put him in his crib. We've hit that stage in our family dynamic, or whatever you want to call it, where it no longer works very well to have William sleeping in the same room with David and me. Which is not a problem at home; William has his own room. But we had to all share a hotel room, so at 10:30 p.m. each night, there he was, awake, alert and standing up in the Pack n Play, wanting to look at Mommy and Daddy. That was not a recipe for a well-rested baby.
At one point, David and I both crowded into the bathroom and shut the door, waiting to see if the baby would finally fall asleep if we weren't in his line of sight. I got ready for bed, and David ate a piece of cheesecake over the sink. We slowly opened the bathroom door and peeped out. The Little Prince was still surveying his domain. Ack. Finally, we just gave up and crawled into bed, but then we got to listen to him paw at the PnP and shake his rattle and talk to himself first.
So assuming we all get a good night's sleep tonight, tomorrow I'll regale everyone with tales of William at the zoo. Oh yes, and I'll also tell you about how we should have been kicked out of a restaurant on Coronado Island.
And I am now spent. David is spent. William sacked out the second we put him in his crib. We've hit that stage in our family dynamic, or whatever you want to call it, where it no longer works very well to have William sleeping in the same room with David and me. Which is not a problem at home; William has his own room. But we had to all share a hotel room, so at 10:30 p.m. each night, there he was, awake, alert and standing up in the Pack n Play, wanting to look at Mommy and Daddy. That was not a recipe for a well-rested baby.
At one point, David and I both crowded into the bathroom and shut the door, waiting to see if the baby would finally fall asleep if we weren't in his line of sight. I got ready for bed, and David ate a piece of cheesecake over the sink. We slowly opened the bathroom door and peeped out. The Little Prince was still surveying his domain. Ack. Finally, we just gave up and crawled into bed, but then we got to listen to him paw at the PnP and shake his rattle and talk to himself first.
So assuming we all get a good night's sleep tonight, tomorrow I'll regale everyone with tales of William at the zoo. Oh yes, and I'll also tell you about how we should have been kicked out of a restaurant on Coronado Island.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
William's first phone call
William caused a minor stir last night by calling his grandparents from his mother's cell phone. Unfortunately, his vocabulary isn't quite good enough for him to convey that hey, everything's cool, just wanted to say hi, back atcha later.
I was trying to keep him quiet while I participated in a meeting. I'm a member of the Officer Spouses' Club Scholarship committee, and we were making our final decision on scholarship recipients last night. I had to take William with me because David was on call. Everyone was really nice about it, but it was pretty distracting, having a baby crawling all over the place and pulling up on everyone's legs (and grabbing their papers and trying to tip over the lamps, etc). The toys weren't having much of an effect, so in a last ditch effort, I handed my cell phone to William.
Somehow he managed to scroll through the speed-dial contacts, select the one marked "Dad" (for Dad and Mama) and hit Send. (He's not even one! Is my kid a genius or what?) This was all without my knowledge.
Daddy said that the phone rang, and he answered it. He saw my phone number pop up on the Caller ID, but he didn't hear my voice. Instead, he heard a baby talking and fussing a bit. This went on for about a minute, and Daddy kept waiting for me to come on the phone, but I didn't. (Of course I didn't. I was busy discussing the problem of the lack of a GPA for one of our scholarship candidates and if we could reasonably award money to her without any idea what her grades were.)
So Mom pulled out her cell phone and called my cell. I heard the phone ring from across the room where William was clutching the phone. I grabbed it from him and said, "Mom?" She said, "Jen? Are you okay?" Confused, I said, "Yes. Wait, did William just call you?" And she replied that he had and that she was worried that something had happened. I told her I was in a meeting and would call her back.
But somehow in the interim, she had called and left a voicemail at home, saying they had gotten a mysterious call from my phone and was I okay? When David got that message, then HE panicked and called me on my cell. Which I had turned off for a few minutes to prevent William from calling Tokyo or someplace. Which made David panic even more. When we finally wrapped up the meeting, I called David at home and he read me the riot act on how he was worried and was about to start looking in ditches for us.
We were fine! Everything was fine! I reassured him. William was just getting into mischief. I was just trying to keep him occupied so we could finish the meeting, I explained. But everything was fine. David settled down, relieved. All was right with the world again.
Except that I stopped by the drive-through line at Kentucky Fried Chicken to get some dinner...and they were out of chicken. Again.
I was trying to keep him quiet while I participated in a meeting. I'm a member of the Officer Spouses' Club Scholarship committee, and we were making our final decision on scholarship recipients last night. I had to take William with me because David was on call. Everyone was really nice about it, but it was pretty distracting, having a baby crawling all over the place and pulling up on everyone's legs (and grabbing their papers and trying to tip over the lamps, etc). The toys weren't having much of an effect, so in a last ditch effort, I handed my cell phone to William.
Somehow he managed to scroll through the speed-dial contacts, select the one marked "Dad" (for Dad and Mama) and hit Send. (He's not even one! Is my kid a genius or what?) This was all without my knowledge.
Daddy said that the phone rang, and he answered it. He saw my phone number pop up on the Caller ID, but he didn't hear my voice. Instead, he heard a baby talking and fussing a bit. This went on for about a minute, and Daddy kept waiting for me to come on the phone, but I didn't. (Of course I didn't. I was busy discussing the problem of the lack of a GPA for one of our scholarship candidates and if we could reasonably award money to her without any idea what her grades were.)
So Mom pulled out her cell phone and called my cell. I heard the phone ring from across the room where William was clutching the phone. I grabbed it from him and said, "Mom?" She said, "Jen? Are you okay?" Confused, I said, "Yes. Wait, did William just call you?" And she replied that he had and that she was worried that something had happened. I told her I was in a meeting and would call her back.
But somehow in the interim, she had called and left a voicemail at home, saying they had gotten a mysterious call from my phone and was I okay? When David got that message, then HE panicked and called me on my cell. Which I had turned off for a few minutes to prevent William from calling Tokyo or someplace. Which made David panic even more. When we finally wrapped up the meeting, I called David at home and he read me the riot act on how he was worried and was about to start looking in ditches for us.
We were fine! Everything was fine! I reassured him. William was just getting into mischief. I was just trying to keep him occupied so we could finish the meeting, I explained. But everything was fine. David settled down, relieved. All was right with the world again.
Except that I stopped by the drive-through line at Kentucky Fried Chicken to get some dinner...and they were out of chicken. Again.
Sunday, April 08, 2007
Happy Easter
Happy Easter! It's William's first Easter. It's hard to believe that this time last year, we were still preparing for his arrival. In some ways, it's hard to remember what life was like before he arrived.
I like to call this one "Thanks, Easter Bunny!"
He got a plush frog puppet that ribbets when you press a button inside its mouth, a bunny, a toy cat and some light-up disco rubber duckies (those were a big hit) in his basket. No candy. Not this year.
Mommy and William in front of the rosebushes:
He likes waving the eggs around, if you can't tell by the pictures...
I like to call this one "Thanks, Easter Bunny!"
He got a plush frog puppet that ribbets when you press a button inside its mouth, a bunny, a toy cat and some light-up disco rubber duckies (those were a big hit) in his basket. No candy. Not this year.
Mommy and William in front of the rosebushes:
He likes waving the eggs around, if you can't tell by the pictures...
Saturday, April 07, 2007
Cell phones and remote controls
I'm discovering that my child is smarter than I give him credit for.
William has a toy cell phone--actually he has a couple of them--and he has a toy remote control. He may be only 11 months old, but somehow he knows that they're not real. He knows that the toy remote control isn't as good as the one that Daddy uses to change the channels on the television. And somehow he even knows that the real remote control that we gave to him doesn't really work, either. (We took the batteries out.) It doesn't make the volume increase or decrease, and the channels stay the same.
And William has also lost interest in the toy cell phones since he figured out that they bear little resemblance to the cell phones his parents use. Geez, what kind of self-respecting baby is seen with a silly old blue and yellow plastic phone when he could have a shiny silver flip phone?
Last Saturday morning, I took William to the outlet mall. I was trying on some shirts in Ann Taylor, and William was fussing because he wanted to be on the floor, crawling, not cooped up in his stroller in a little cubicle. Desperate for a few minutes of quiet so I could finish trying on an armload of clothes snatched randomly from the racks, I gave him my own cell phone. Instant happiness. Yes, I made sure to retrieve the phone before he sucked on the antenna or made any scary overseas phone calls.
So when we got home, I gave him an old cell phone to play with. He loves it for now, but I bet the shelf life is limited...you know, until he realizes that he can't actually make any calls on it because it doesn't really work anymore.
William has a toy cell phone--actually he has a couple of them--and he has a toy remote control. He may be only 11 months old, but somehow he knows that they're not real. He knows that the toy remote control isn't as good as the one that Daddy uses to change the channels on the television. And somehow he even knows that the real remote control that we gave to him doesn't really work, either. (We took the batteries out.) It doesn't make the volume increase or decrease, and the channels stay the same.
And William has also lost interest in the toy cell phones since he figured out that they bear little resemblance to the cell phones his parents use. Geez, what kind of self-respecting baby is seen with a silly old blue and yellow plastic phone when he could have a shiny silver flip phone?
Last Saturday morning, I took William to the outlet mall. I was trying on some shirts in Ann Taylor, and William was fussing because he wanted to be on the floor, crawling, not cooped up in his stroller in a little cubicle. Desperate for a few minutes of quiet so I could finish trying on an armload of clothes snatched randomly from the racks, I gave him my own cell phone. Instant happiness. Yes, I made sure to retrieve the phone before he sucked on the antenna or made any scary overseas phone calls.
So when we got home, I gave him an old cell phone to play with. He loves it for now, but I bet the shelf life is limited...you know, until he realizes that he can't actually make any calls on it because it doesn't really work anymore.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Rash
So four days after William began taking amoxicillin for an ear infection, he developed a rash under his chin and on his wrists. He also was running a low fever last night, so David finagled an appointment for him with one of the other pediatricians this afternoon.
The verdict: looks like a viral rash, nothing to be too worried about. We're to continue with the antibiotics for the ear infection and slather some moisturizing cream on the rash. And of course we may continue using the Miracle Drug that is infant Tylenol. (It really is a miracle too: William was screaming like a banshee in the exam room, turning bright tomato Willasaurus Rex red, and it took all three of us to hold him so the doctor could check his ears. Yet after a nice dose of Tylenol, he started saying "Ba" and grinning again.)
David keeps moaning that he'd just like his little son to stay healthy for more than a week at a time. I'm a little more philosophical about it: babies get sick. You take care of them, but they do get sick. Hopefully this rash will clear up quickly.
Well, gotta run. Something just woke William up from his nap, and man, he is Not Happy. Later.
The verdict: looks like a viral rash, nothing to be too worried about. We're to continue with the antibiotics for the ear infection and slather some moisturizing cream on the rash. And of course we may continue using the Miracle Drug that is infant Tylenol. (It really is a miracle too: William was screaming like a banshee in the exam room, turning bright tomato Willasaurus Rex red, and it took all three of us to hold him so the doctor could check his ears. Yet after a nice dose of Tylenol, he started saying "Ba" and grinning again.)
David keeps moaning that he'd just like his little son to stay healthy for more than a week at a time. I'm a little more philosophical about it: babies get sick. You take care of them, but they do get sick. Hopefully this rash will clear up quickly.
Well, gotta run. Something just woke William up from his nap, and man, he is Not Happy. Later.
Monday, April 02, 2007
Opening Day
Take me out to the ball game,
Take me out with the crowd,
Buy me some peanuts and William snacks [okay, maybe stay away from the peanuts for now],
I don't care if I ever get back,
So it's root, root, root for the Red Sox,
If they don't win [they didn't], it's a shame [it was],
For it's ONE, TWO, THREE strikes, you're out!
At the old ball game!
Sadly, I guess this little member of Red Sox Nation wasn't much of a good luck charm for his daddy's favorite team. Note that you can see the depressing score of the Red Sox-Royals game on the TV above William's head. It got worse after that, too. I TiVo'd the game for David, but I think I won't tell him that. Who needs to watch that kind of a blowout on opening day, right?
In positive news, though, Mommy's team--the Atlanta Braves--won in extra innings, and William's favorite player (that would be catcher Brian McCann, who with his baby face, resembles the little prince a little bit) had a good game, with a two-run home run. I guess I should be glad I didn't get William all decked out in Braves gear for Opening Day. (I couldn't have done that anyway: he long ago outgrew the adorable Braves outfits that Alethea and Glenn sent to him last summer. Time for a new, significantly larger set of Braves gear, I think.) The Braves might have lost their first game of the 2007 season, too!
We're thinking about trying to hit one more major league baseball game here in Southern California before we move to Nashville this summer. Typically, we attend several Angels and Padres games each year, skipping the Dodgers because the parking is such a nightmare at Dodger Stadium. Hopefully we can go to at least one--I know that William's too young to remember it later, but we'll remember it for him. We can tell him about it, anyway.
But he'll still have to skip the peanuts and hot dogs. At least for one more year.
Take me out with the crowd,
Buy me some peanuts and William snacks [okay, maybe stay away from the peanuts for now],
I don't care if I ever get back,
So it's root, root, root for the Red Sox,
If they don't win [they didn't], it's a shame [it was],
For it's ONE, TWO, THREE strikes, you're out!
At the old ball game!
Sadly, I guess this little member of Red Sox Nation wasn't much of a good luck charm for his daddy's favorite team. Note that you can see the depressing score of the Red Sox-Royals game on the TV above William's head. It got worse after that, too. I TiVo'd the game for David, but I think I won't tell him that. Who needs to watch that kind of a blowout on opening day, right?
In positive news, though, Mommy's team--the Atlanta Braves--won in extra innings, and William's favorite player (that would be catcher Brian McCann, who with his baby face, resembles the little prince a little bit) had a good game, with a two-run home run. I guess I should be glad I didn't get William all decked out in Braves gear for Opening Day. (I couldn't have done that anyway: he long ago outgrew the adorable Braves outfits that Alethea and Glenn sent to him last summer. Time for a new, significantly larger set of Braves gear, I think.) The Braves might have lost their first game of the 2007 season, too!
We're thinking about trying to hit one more major league baseball game here in Southern California before we move to Nashville this summer. Typically, we attend several Angels and Padres games each year, skipping the Dodgers because the parking is such a nightmare at Dodger Stadium. Hopefully we can go to at least one--I know that William's too young to remember it later, but we'll remember it for him. We can tell him about it, anyway.
But he'll still have to skip the peanuts and hot dogs. At least for one more year.
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