Tuesday, May 26, 2015

Casper -- 18 Months

The Speroo, My Milky Face, Doodle.

At officially 1 and a half years old you are silly and sneaky and serious.

After over a year of baby yoga you can now do a mean downward dog. You’ve also picked up a move called “toes to your nose,” and the answering of ringing foot phones (enjoy it while you’re still this flexible, kid).

You recently started pointing emphatically at your empty plate to indicate that more food (usually snacks) is needed.

You’ve figured out that things can be hidden under our furniture -- you love to use your downward dog moved to search for stray toys under the couch. Or to shove your sandals, which you have developed an irrational hatred for, under Mom and Dad’s bed.

Pacifiers are now only for naps and bedtime, a transition that was surprisingly easy to make. However, nothing is funnier than finding a paci during waking hours and showing it to mom before popping it into your mouth and running away squealing. You love to run away. Though our apartment is small and you usually find yourself trapped in a corner you have begun to master circling the couch or dining room table to evade capture.

You have developed a deep love for coloring and we have accumulated stacks of abstract creations that I will have to learn to part with.

You like to point out everyone that you’re hanging out with -- meals around the table are peppered with finger pointing and roll call, “Mama, Daddy, and who else?” giggling you point to yourself, “and Casper!”

It has been weeks since you woke us up in the middle of the night. After a tough winter with my bed full of wide awake baby and one painful night of sleep training (AGAIN) (shout out to Grandma Kay for the phone support that night!) you are, again, a baby who sleeps well. Please let it stick this time.

You have fallen into a toddler eating cycle -- 2 days of voracious consumption followed by 5 days
of refusing everything save bananas, milk and snacks (crackers, yogurt drops and dried fruit). Nothing angers you like being offered milk in a cup. Milk is for bottles. Water is for cups. This rules shall not be broken or cups will fly across the room propelled by your rage.
You are talking, finally. You said your first word besides “mama” or “dada” on May 2nd when you shouted “byebye!” from your stroller. A week later I caught you staring at a baby and mouthing the word “baby” to yourself. After watching for a moment I asked, “Do you see that baby?” and you yelled and pointed -- “baby!” You say “moo” for cows and “peep peep” for chicks. Kenesha taught you to raise your arm like a trunk and “arooooo” like an elephant. After over a year of reading the Subway book you can say “F!” to greet to F Train like a true Brooklyn boy.

You are still a little guy, finally breaking the 20lbs mark this month. You seem perfectly chubby to me right up until I take you out of town and you go from having a big round cloth diaper booty to a skinny little butt that won't even hold up a pair of 12-18 month pants.

You have lots of baby tricks these days. You can "do a little dance" by spinning around in a circle. You stomp your feet. You "do a jump" (which mean you bend your knees and sit in a squat for a bit before standing up quickly and throwing your hands in the air -- I have yet to see your feet leave the ground). You do hand claps and foot claps.

You love to play hide and seek. Like all toddlers you are the worst hider. You pick the same spot over and over again. You make no attempt to not be seen. You laugh super loud the entire time.

You have started to get angry when daddy hugs me. You spot us cuddling from across the room and run over whining to hit daddy's hand. You are not comforted when we tell you that daddy loves me too. You do not find the option of a group hug acceptable.

You have learned to climb. Yesterday I was using the stool to get a can from the top of the shelf and found you perched right behind me (*Gulp*)

You don’t want to hold my hand when walking down the street. You shake your head and squirm and physically try to peel my hand from yours. You walk ahead of me as if pretending already to be on your own. Right now you have a purple bump on your forehead and a scrape on your knee as if to prove to me that you are a little boy.