Once Upon a Time I Could Write Complete Sentences. Soon the LFM Will Be Speaking in Them.

Once Upon a Time I used to write. In complete sentences. I had a blog that I updated religiously, not one that I neglected and only popped in on from time to time. And I can't really blame the LFM, because there are no less than 5 million other mommy bloggers out there who manage to write in complete coherent sentences...and many are even witty. Maybe its the pressure of the whole blog-as-baby-book thing...feeling like I must record everything, and so I just end up recording nothing.

Maybe I'm lazy.

I'm certainly exhausted.

Jonah is teething again...he's a very slow teether, so we get like 3 weeks of fussiness and then voila! Here's one measly little tooth. It seems so unfair. Its definitely unfair to my boobs and my sleep, but hey I'm sure its much rougher on him, so I shouldn't complain.

Here's the 10 second recap since I last wrote:

At age 15 months Jonah started walking. As with every development thus far, the lines are blurry and I can't pinpoint the precise moment he really began walking. So in the absence of the definitive, I like to say that its the weekend we went to visit his godmother, Chanteuse, in Maryland. I picked that weekend because he was walking a bit that weekend, and I like to think that Chanteuse is somehow tied to his destiny. When she was down for Mimi's funeral she said "wouldn't it be cool if he was born now while I'm here?" and of course, he was. So when we saw her in Maryland and she said "wouldn't it be cool if he started walking while I'm here?", well, we stretched things a bit to say he did. It makes for a cute story, at least.

WB's parents came for a visit from Puerto Rico. Jonah was in love with them, they were in love with Jonah, and I discovered that I can speak more Spanish than I thought. I also discovered that strep throat and family visits do not mix well.

Jonah is a super verbal child...sometimes I catch him just blabbering away in his car seat while we're driving, and its just the cutest thing I've ever heard. he has this sweet tiny little voice...almost too thin and tiny for his often boisterous ways. He's a bulldozer with his body as he crashes about, but he's a nightingale with his sweet little sing songy voice. Here is a partial list of the words he says now on a regular basis (partial list because its almost 1:30am and I'm exhausted and sure to forget half of them):
Mama
Papa
Na-na (night night- this is how he asks 5 million times a day to nurse)
Ca-ca (this is both cracker and canard, the french word for duck)
Pwa (poisson- the french word for fish)
Mono (the spanish word for monkey)
Hi
Bye bye
no (he currently LOVES this one)
Ah-Duh (all done)
Moo-ah (more)
Shah (this is both chien, the french word for dog, and chat, the french word for cat...the intonation is slightly different for each one)
Ha-bmm (Abu- short for abuelo and abuela, grandfather and grandmother in Spanish)
Shhhss (shoes or chaussures, the french word for shoes)
Pah (potty...american slang for toilet)
Pah-pee (Papy, what he calls my father)
Too-too (Choo-choo, what he calls a train)
Brum-brum (vroom vroom, what he calls a car)
Buh (bird)
Ah-buh (Arbol, tree in Spanish, or Arbre, tree in French)
Our genius boy can also correctly identify all facial features in French and most in Spanish and a few in English, and is learning more body parts in French as we speak.

Our genuis boy is also waking up and in dire need of a breast, so I'd better go oblige.

My Hodge Podge Post

When you haven't written in such a long time, the pressure of writing a catch-up post becomes monumental...so much so that you end up procrastinating the catch-up post and the cycle keeps self perpetuating. So I'm just going to throw a bunch of stuff out there, in a completely random and uneloquent fashion just to get something on this blog and loosen the self-imposed pressure a little bit.

It snowed buckets and buckets in our little southern city, which means it snowed a completely reasonable amount for any northern city but we were completely paralyzed as the entire city shut down here. I think it was less than a foot, actually, but since there just isn't enough equipment to clear it, we were a bit stranded. Thankfully we live in the city, 2.5 blocks from the grocery store, so we made a trek through the "blizzard" to buy some essentials (and by essentials I mean hot sake) and I must say the LFM was completely nonplussed by the fact that everything in the vicinity was covered in white and the sky was suddenly full of falling white polka dots. You would have thought this was completely normal to him. He was all "Yeah yeah, falling white shit...how boring. But are there any dogs around? Now those are exciting!"

Which brings me to my next little tidbit...the LFM is now talking! He says about 4 words: Mama, Papa, chat (French for cat), and chien (French for dog). Chat and chien sound pretty much almost exactly alike, though he seems to know the specific animals they relate to. However every other animal he sees at all, be it in person or in pictures, is officially a chien. We pretty much pass each day with him pointing to every person he sees and saying "Papa!" and pointing to every animal and/or window and joyously calling out "chien? chien? chien?". The neighbors in the house behind us have a dog that often stands on the deck railing, so the LFM is constantly asking (and by asking I mean pointing and whining or shrieking) to be lifted up to look out of the window or have me open the back door so that he can perhaps catch a glimpse of this godly creature. He has serious chien worship. And Papa worship. Mama, however, she's just chopped liver.

Our sweet little baby is becoming quite the headstrong toddler. Meaning we love him dearly, but we don't always like him very much. Particularly when he's flinging his body on the floor and shrieking like a pterodactyl. I'm trying really hard to remember to let it go once each episode is over and not hold any residual frustration towards him, which in some instances can be a challenge. But toddlers exist in the moment and so our interactions with them need to be the same. I also try to always be sure I parent from the child's perspective and not the parent's perspective. This means I look at the fact that maybe the LFM is really frustrated by his limited ability to communicate instead of merely seeing that he keeps pointing at things and screaming maniacally.

I don't mean to sound like he's only a challenge, because that's not at all the way it is. In fact, I'd still say that he is an incredibly sweet and mild mannered child, and he's an absolute joy most of the time. I'm only being honest about the other times and admitting that parenting has become more challenging and complex. I'm sure this is just the tip of the iceberg, and I'm definitely sure that I'm not the first Mama to go through this...I know its all part of the glorious package of parenthood.

And now my sweet boy has just woken up from his nap, so this will have to suffice for now. At least I wrote something.

Home

I just found out that my family in France reads this blog to keep up to date with the comings and goings of our little funky monkey, and my poor aunt keeps checking in only to find that this blog has been woefully neglected time and time again. I'm hoping to be able to rectify this, and to post at least more frequently than once a month. I'm sure by now my aunt is the only reader left, considering the long blog silences.

Hopefully now we are entering what I'd like to refer to as the era of peace (and prosperity would be nice to, but I won't push my luck here) in our little life we're building here. We have finally bought the house, after a very frustrating month on pins and needles in which we were homeless (staying at my father's house) and being promised entry every day, only to find more red tape at the end of the day. Yes, internets, we are homeowners. We own a home. Excuse me while I go hide under the covers and quake with fear over what we have done. Yikes! Its terrifying and incredibly exciting all at once. And I don't even think its sunk in yet that we really own it. I'm sure it will sink in the first time something goes wrong and we have no landlords to call!

A day and a half after we closed we ran away to a tropical paradise. Yes, the trip to Puerto Rico had been planned for months, but it just sounds so romantic and jet setting to say that we ran away to a tropical paradise. And it was, in however much of a way it could be with the trip being all about visiting the in laws and such. (editor's note: no. WB and I have not secretly tied the knot or anything, I just refer to them as my in laws for lack of a better word) We had a lovely week, and my grisly fears of nitpicking critical in laws could not have been more off the mark. They were absolutely lovely, and welcomed us into their home with love and open arms. The LFM went directly to them with no hesitation, as if he saw them every weekend. I was astounded (and relieved) by how comfortable he was at their house. And they were in love with every move, every sound, every breath he took. He was so spoiled by the attention that when we got on the last flight home and no one was cooing over him he became hurt and distraught that no one was melting over his charms.

As for me, I enjoyed getting to know them without the shadow of grief and weight of new motherhood clouding the waters between us, and it was more the visit I would have liked to have had when they came for the LFM's birth. Timing really is everything, I suppose, and this time we finally got it right. It was nice to relax after so much stress of moving and closing on the house...to be somewhere without boxes waiting to be unpacked, forced to relax and enjoy ourselves. And the food...oh god, I can't believe I haven't mentioned the food yet! WB's mother is an excellent cook and the food was just to die for. My stomach just piped up in enthusiastic agreement at the mere writing of this. Mmmmmm.....pasteles, I'm dreaming of you....wait for me, oh delicous pasteles. I'll be back for you.

We came back last Saturday, to be greeted once again with a house completely full of a million boxes waiting to be unpacked...but its our house. Our crazy discombobulated house of boxes.

Our home.

Dental Overachiever

Err, upon further examination, make that now TWO teeth coming in. TWO! No wonder things have been a little wonky here in Funkymonkeyland. The LFM has been stuck to me like sushi on rice. And if course all this coincides with my first postpartum foray back into theatre, so WB's been doing a bang up job of holding the fort down the 3 nights a week that I have rehearsal. And me? Well I've been discovering that I just may be able to hold a conversation not involving poop. I think there is indeed a person within the Mama, and its been really nice rediscovering her.

Wow, I'm still in shock...my little boy now has TWO teeth!

Rite of Passage

As of 2 days ago, the LFM is getting his first tooth. Its just barely breaking through and we can't really see it very well, but wow can we feel it! I asked WB to write a post about it and he replied that his post would simply say "Its sharp!". And that it is.

My little baby is growing up so fast. I guess now he's got an excuse for being a bit difficult in the past week or so. Maybe we won't give him away or leave him in the next parking lot we have to stop and nurse in because he's throwing a major fit...again. Maybe.



Please pray for my poor nipples, now that he's sprouting razorblades.

Letter to My Big Boy 6 Month Old at 6.5 Months, Because That's Just How Disorganized Life Is These Days

My Dear Little Funky Monkey,

You have now completed over half of your first year out of Mama's womb. You are all growed up. You're my big boy now, and Papa and I are even talking about leaving you with Tio and Tia for a few hours and going out on a real date...like with just grownups involved and the ability to eat an entire meal without interruption. We also talk about leaving and running away to Peru for an undisclosed amount of time, but that's only in the more challenging moments, and while the frequency of those moments is definitely increasing I'd say you're pretty safe...for now at least.

I think these new personality traits are asserting themselves (that's the nice way of saying you're cute but sometimes you can really be douchey- your Papa and I are totally going to make a onesie that says that too...and all the parents will smile knowingly and the childless people will think we are heartless assholes) mostly because you are not taking small steps of development, but rather giant leaps for all babykind. You are now so close to crawling that I think I peed my pants a little just for writing that statement just now. You can inchworm crawl pretty darn fast, especially if there's something you want to get to to put in your mouth or bang your head into, and you love to get up on your hands and knees and rock back and forth as if you're gearing up and gaining momentum to take off like a rocket. One of these days I know you will. That will also be the day I have my first of many heart attacks. Despite the desperate fear that churns in the pit of my stomach when I think of your impending mobility, I am insanely proud of you. You are doing some of the same things your friends who are 2 months older than you are doing, and while a little ways down the road I may not write that phrase with such glee, for now I am relishing how advanced and brilliant you are proving yourself to be.

An unfortunate byproduct of your new found skills is that you are now the squirmiest creature to have ever been discovered on this planet. Not only are you obsessed with crawling to the point that you practice it in your sleep (to the detriment of Mama's sleep, of course) and want only to be on the floor, even if that floor is covered in hazmat materials and shards of broken glass, but you are also obsessed with standing. You want us to help you stand at all times, stubbornly pushing up when we try to work on your sitting skills. The pediatrician even commented that perhaps you were standing too much and this was negatively affecting your ability to develop your sitting skills. And it probably is, but you are so bound and determined to stand at all times that I have now resigned myself to the notion that you will probably be the freaky kid at prom, all slumped over and unable to sit upright in a chair. You will, however, have mad standing skills, so that may just win the ladies (or the guys...we are open minded parents here) over nonetheless.

You are also eating solids like a champ, always eager to try whatever new foods Mama can make for you, and so far peas have been the only thing you haven't liked. But boy, the face you made with the peas and the accompanying shriek...you are anything but subtle, my son. I have to confess, though, that weird new taste that seems like apples with a certain ju ne sais quoi? That je ne sais quoi...yup, its the peas. Mama's learning to be tricky like that. Hey, we're on a super tight budget around here...I'm not wasting all those peas! So far you've had sweet potato (your fave, and Mama's too), bananas, applesauce, summer squash, butternut squash, carrots, pears, peas, and rice cereal. All made by Mama with organic fruits and veggies except for the pears and the rice cereal, but those were organic too. The next new foods that are all ready to be introduced are avocado and green beans. And this solid foods thing? Totally fun. I love watching you enjoy eating like a big boy (and you do love it- you cry when you see us eating with a spoon and you're not), experimenting with new tastes, and for the first time gaining weight at a good clip.

However, there is one issue we need to discuss, my sweet boy...the poop. Oh god help us all, THE POOP!! The poop is insane! I know what went into that baby food...I made it...but still, I have my suspicion that someone must have slipped something truly rank and vile in when I wasn't looking because what in heaven's name could possibly produce such a stink? And you, who has never been a copious pooper before (you usually were a twice a week pooper at best), have suddenly become the overachiever of poopers, supplying us with enough of the stinky stuff to fertilize the entire nation of Lichtenstein. Did you not get the memo that its supposed to be the other way around? Most babies poop profusely in early infancy and become more constipated with the introduction of solids. But you had to be an original, didn't you? Even as I type this, I hear you grunting away, and am paralyzed with anticipatory fear.

I never thought one could write so much (and talk so much) about poop. Is this really what I've become?

But you, my sweet monkey, what you have become is this extraordinary little person, with your own little personality asserting itself more and more each day. You have the most wondrous smile that can charm even the most stoic and cold people, and when you are happy your little feet and legs start kicking all over the place and you shriek this high pitched little shriek of joy. You love to fake cough, and crack up when I do it back to you, and peek-a-boo is one of your favorite new games. You are curious about everything and that insatiable curiosity combined with your increasing mobility spells certain trouble for us. You love to splash, having spent a weekend playing in the river with your Godmother and Aunt, Chanteuse. In fact you now try to make every surface splash, slapping the floor, your father and I, whatever you can reach. You have also become so very talkative (which is not adorable at 1am, just for the record), saying different combinations of ma, ba, da, ga, and la in this teeny voice that just cracks me up every time because it just doesn't seem to me like it fits with your bulldozer bruiser physicality. You are becoming a much more independent monkey- you're actually on the floor, playing so independently right now, and telling your little turtle Paddles (WB named him) something very important...its a joy to watch you exploring the world around you. And yet there's a teeny part of me that already misses my little baby, who is quickly being replaced by this fearless boy who is now conquering his world inch by inch. You are growing up so fast and furiously that I really treasure the moments that you want to be in my arms, nursing and being nurtured. I hope there's always that little side to you that always wants and needs to be mothered, despite your incredible achievements.

I love you, my sweet little funky, curious, brilliant, obstinate, sweet, and right now very stinky monkey. Let's go brave this diaper situation together.

Love,
Maman

We'rew Crackin Up Around Here...In More Ways Than One

The latest pictures from the super talented and super awesome Meghan McSweeney

I don't know how other Moms keep up with their blogs. As a matter of fact, I don't know how other Moms keep up with anything at all. I feel like if I've either a) showered b) made something vaguely resembling a meal or c) clipped the LFM's super bionic fingernails that grow like a chia pet on steroids then I've really accomplished an amazing feat for the day. Before having a baby, I thought that I would have so much extra time, being a stay at home Mom, that my home would be sparklingly pristine and all of my meals gourmet. With fancy folded napkins. Maybe even cloth napkins. Fast forward to the present, where if any part of my home sparkles its probably because something was spilled there once upon a time and its better that no questions are asked. My definition of gourmet meal has expanded to include haphazardly thrown together quesadillas filled with all sorts of mysteries from the fridge and if we were to even attempt cloth napkins, we'd probably end up using somewhat questionable cloth diapers while waiting for the original napkins to be washed at some unspecified future date and time. I may be exaggerating a bit, then again, I may not be...it all depends on how deep our friendship goes and how much you're willing to forgive. The point is that when given 20 minutes of nap time at a stretch and the choice between scooping cat litter and blogging, the cat litter usually wins, even if the blog smells so much sweeter.

The LFM is now over 5 months old, and despite all efforts to slow down time and simply enjoy the present moment (at the expense of productivity and cleanliness) I can't help feeling like father time is robbing me blind- sneaking in the back door while I'm distracted by a poopie diaper or an adorable coo and cleaning the place out. How could my sweet little monkey already be 5 months old? If I wake up tomorrow and he's off to college, I'm gonna be super pissed. I mean it. And that feels entirely possible at this point- our sweet boy is growing up and developing just that fast.

He now rolls over both ways, sometimes spinning faster than a whirling dervish on crack, and can now roll across the bed or floor by executing consecutive rolls in the same direction. I'm trying to teach him how to roll into the kitchen and fix Mama a sandwich, but so far he just laughs at that idea. As a matter of fact, he laughs at pretty much anything and everything these days, and we've spent up to a half hour just laughing back and forth at each other. Its utterly adorable. The Little Funky Monkey can also scoot across the floor or bed on his back, though luckily he is less adept on his stomach...for now [insert ominous music here]. He has so much of an awareness of the world around him, and his favorite toys by far are those two freaks and weirdos he lives with who make all sorts of ridiculous faces, songs, and dances to amuse him. He also still loves his play mat and we just picked up this used exersaucer from craigslist...jackpot! I call it heaven in plastic. Not only does he go apeshit for this toy, but this little gem let me sweep the kitchen and the bathroom today. Not that I enjoy housework, on the contrary sweeping is about as fun as file folder paper cuts, but the dust bunnies were demanding dinner too, and they don't eat quesadillas. So thank you, dear exersaucer people, you've made my son scream with delight and you've made walking through my kitchen a possible feat once again.

He is also becoming such a Daddy's boy, though the true test is about to be undertaken. I'm doing a little one performance short play, and have rehearsals for 3 hours every night next week. I'm actually more worried about my milk supply suffering than I am of the LFM suffering; WB is a great father and I think they'll so just fine. Me, on the other hand...I'll be the one shaking from withdrawal, certain that my baby is being eaten alive by hungry dust bunnies while I become the Sahara desert of breast milk. But I will be a Sahara desert doing what she loves, and that's important too. I'll just be surgically attached to the pump the other 21 hours of the day and breast milk will be fine.

I hope.

The LFM is giving me the best little smile and laugh right now, so if you'll excuse me, I think we have a crack up party in the making.

Speedracer on the Developmental Racetrack

The LFM and his Papy Putting in a Busy Day at the Office

Look at those Awesome Dimples!

No, I'm not Trying to Show Off my Impressive Ability to Create Large Piles of Mess Everywhere I go...This Here is Evidence of the LFM's Brilliance...the First Roll

I've been trying to write this post for a week...literally. Yeah, if this is our poor monkey's version of a baby book, he seems to be getting the cheap ghetto Dollar Store version. We'll give it to him for his 20th birthday along with a gift certificate for a mullet trim and a gigantic bag of cheetos...because we're just that classy.

The monumental news around these parts (which now seems like old hat thanks to my blogging laziness- the date on the post is really a lie, contrived to make me seem like a better Mama than I really am) is that on Sunday May 4th 2008 the LFM rolled over from his back to his stomach! [insert crowd cheers and tickertape parade here] At 3 months! This is not normally achieved until 4-6 months old. Harvard here we come! I knew the boy was brilliant!

Except he has not stopped rolling ever since. Even in his sleep. All he wants to do is roll (he has yet to discover the rock part of the equation). This wouldn't be so much of a problem except that our little precocious monkey has yet to master rolling from his stomach to his back. And he hates-nay, loathes- being on his stomach. The scenario runs like this: the LFM, looking all cute and pleased with himself rolls over with such grace and poise you'd think he was auditioning for the US Olympic Baby Rolling Team. He looks up for the grand finish and flashes a smile that puts Mary Lou Rhetton to shame. He then looks around, realizes that he's indeed on his stomach, and immediately panics that he will never again be able to get back onto his back. He yells until I come and roll him back over. Rinse and Repeat. 12 million times a day. The fun never ends. Ever.

So our Little Funky Monkey is now rolling over and reaching for, grabbing and holding toys. All quite early in the game. He also scoots when on his back and makes crawling motions when on his stomach. Umm, hello? Crawling motions? Maybe being precocious isn't so great after all..I was hoping he'd start crawling when he's about 18. Years. Not Months. Can't he crawl to class at Harvard?

Grabbing at Our Hearts

The LFM just reached for his froggie toy and grabbed it and played with it! Like a big boy baby not a newborn baby. Wow, he's growing up so fast, next year he'll be off to college. It seems like just yesterday he was destined to go on his first date with a wobbly head while projectile spitting up and now he's sitting on his Daddy's chest playing with a toy. A toy that he reached for and grabbed with his hands. What a talented boy we have! He's also laughing these days and scooting around when he's on his back- he'll start off on his play mat in one position and turn himself 180 degrees just by scooting. He doesn't move so much when he's on his tummy though, so clearly he's destined to crabwalk and then moonwalk instead of crawl and then walk. That's cool with us unless he starts getting skin lightening treatments and plastic surgery..I love his nose too much for him to change it.

Living In These Glorious Moments

The LFM Masquerading as a Penguin

Sitting on the Bench in the Children's Section of the Botanical Gardens That is Dedicated to Mimi, my Brother, and my Grandmother, With My Mother's Oldest Friend, the LFM's MamyOuich

The View From the Bench...Right by a Monkey Statue!

Today is going to be one of those slow days in which very little gets done besides feeding. The LFM is taking forever to finish his breakfast...starting and stopping and dozing. I'm trying to learn to let go and just enjoy these moments. So what that the house is a mess and I have a to-do list? Isn't nurturing and loving my baby always on the top of that list? So I say fuck it, and I cuddle and coo and love and nurse and at the end of the day I may not be able to say I crossed a lot off my list, but I will always be able to say I accomplished a lot. Its just a matter of reorganizing my thinking...one of the millions of little adjustments into motherhood. The LFM makes me live more in the moment than I ever have, and that's such a gift to me.

My favorite time of day is morning. We have these lazy mornings, where we take our time waking up. I usually wake up just a few minutes before the LFM, with enough time to go to the bathroom and come back just in time for him to start opening his eyes. That's when the magic begins. When he sees me its like the most miraculous thing in the world has occurred to him...that lady, the one with the boobs and the smiles, she's here!! Never mind that he's been cuddling with me all night, nestled against the security of my warm body, nursing on and off through the night...its still as if he isn't quite sure what he'll find when he opens his eyes and he thinks he's hit the jackpot yet again when I'm there. I can't describe to you how wonderful that feeling is. I must be doing something right to be greeted that way each morning.

From there we spend a lazy 15 or 20 minutes just hanging out and talking and smiling. The LFM is becoming more and more talkative every day, though whether he coos in English, Spanish, or French we have no idea. He seems to like being spoken to in French and Spanish better than English, but maybe that's because they are more melodic languages. What's interesting is that I've noticed that he speaks differently to WB than he does to me, like he's already developing his own different way of interacting with his father. Then yesterday at brunch with Mim, Charles Benoit, and Uncle Noah, I noticed he spoke the same way to Charles Benoit and Uncle Noah. Its like this louder more insistent voice he uses when talking to other guys. Its so interesting to me to see this socialization occurring so early!

Our little monkey has also found his hands. We're not sure when exactly this occurred, as it was a quiet natural affair with little pomp and circumstance, but somewhere along the way he just kind of started regularly putting his fist in his mouth instead of accidentally. He still sometimes seems like he's flailing around with no control over his arms, but then he'll just pop that hand right into his mouth with perfect aim whenever he wants to, so I'm positive he's got some serious motor skills, he's just like his father in that he's quiet and modest about these things.

As much as I'm enjoying gushing, I'm going to go do some more cuddling and cooing now- he's done eating and it won't be long before he reaches the days where he doesn't want to cuddle anymore so I'm shelving the other responsibilities for the day and enjoying these moments while I can.

As I typed that, I got an enormous smile from the LFM, so clearly, he agrees.


very important side note: its also our anniversary today....2 years, though they have been so full and rich and together we've faced many challenges so it seems much more like 20 years. WB, you are my joy, my breath, my spine, mi alma. I cannot imagine a life without you by my side, and am ever thankful to the universe that we found our way here.