He grows into things

We got this awesome sweater from Maria a few months after Elliot was born.  He looked cute in it but it didn't really fit.  Now he's rocking it right.  

Thanks Maria!

Thanksgiving!

Aaron and Daria have done a fabulous job fixing up their house in Mount Rainier.  It features a "sidecar," which I didn't get any photos of.  In fact, I didn't get photos of anywhere but the first floor.  It was a short trip.  But I think captured a lot of the nice details.

 Aaron built that bookshelf by hand.  And yes, those are lengths of black pipe he used for the vertical supports. Pretty sweet.

My Pride and Joy

During my two weeks off I made radiator covers.  These took about 10 hours each to make.  Which is probably longer than most real carpenters would require....

btw I'm using the leftover wood to make a toy chest.  No idea when I will have another 10 hours free...

Thanksgiving

We headed to Mount Rainier, right outside D.C., to visit my brother Aaron and his wife Daria.  It was a quick trip, but a great chance for the extended family to hang out with Elliot.  And the brine turkey alone was worth the four hour drive.

Photos coming soon....

There is no before photo here.  That pile of white is the after photo.

More Things to Remember

This week he started throwing his hands up over his head.  Previously he was really into taking objects and putting them on his head.  Given the ratio between his arm length (6 inches) and the height of his head (also 6 inches) it was a trick thing to pull off.  Now we’ve started one of my favorites, the “so big” game. 

Clapping is still big.  Every time he eats a mouthful of some food he likes, he feels the need to clap it out, show it some love.

He’s also started kissing recently.  Well, it’s really more like a head butt coming at you mouth first.  But it’s done with affection, we think, and so we tolerate the bruised upper lips. 

We’ve started baby proofing the house.  Some of you may have seen the radiator covers I proudly posted on Facebook.  We’ve got a gate installed, and we’ve cobbled together a decent package of anti-cabinet door devices to keep him from getting under the sink.

When we first got the baby gate it was missing a few parts, but we put it into position in the doorway between the kitchen and the hall.  And he loved playing with it.  The door swung freely, so he would push it and let it glide back toward him.  He seemed to take a lot of pleasure in navigating the complex threshold that the babygate created: in addition to the transition from hardwood floor to kitchen tile, now he had this metal lip to hop over.  And to do it all with only the support of a swinging gate door?   It was like Outward Bound. 

Now we’re finally getting all the parts for the gate.  So it actually does what it’s supposed to and keeps him out. 

He is not going to like that.

That’s all I can think of for now.   

Petting Zoo

This was actually at the Old Stone House in Park Slope.   Just a big cage with animals in it.  I was surprised they weren't actively biting kids, that's what I would be doing if you stuck me in that situation...

Yes, he was more interested in the cage handle than the bunnies inside.

To be fair those bunnies were real boring.

halloween outfit

Forgot to include this in the halloween photos.  Thanks for the PJs mom...

First taste of shampoo:

Flute

More Birthday Photos

There were many good photos (and good people) that didn't make it into the birthday posts.  Please enjoy them without my snarky commentary.

All you people who told us “Take him out to restaurants when he’s a tiny baby”?  All of you who insisted “Take advantage of it now!  When he gets older you won’t be able to take him anywhere!”

We did that, and it was a disaster.  Running to the bathroom to change him; laying the changing pad on gross floor of the bathroom because there was no changing tray; taking him outside and walking him around the block to get him to sleep while our food got cold; all of these things we suffered willingly, thinking it would be our last chance to dine in public with our child. 

And all you people who told us that were crazy.  Hannah and I went out for sushi tonight, and we brought Elliot along and it was a delight.  He sat in a high chair like a perfect gentleman (for about five minutes) and then jumped down and cruised around and examined gross things on the floor.  We threw down some toys to him and he played with them.  We munched our sushi leisurely and all was well in the universe.  So there!

That is all...

Butt Dancing 3

butt dancing 2

Butt Dancing Part 1

I already put some of this on Facebook.  But I know this blog has readers who deign not to soil themselves with Zuckerberg's wares....

This photo was taken just before Elliot's birthday party, if I recall correctly.  But for obvious reasons it deserves attention all its own:

Grandma Marie

This blog went dark for a few days in honor of my grandma Marie.  She was an amazing woman, who lived a beautiful, rich life, and a few days ago she passed away.

One of my favorite stories about Marie is from just a few years ago. (Often when you hear "my favorite story" about an older person, it's a nostalgic remembrance from half a century earlier.  But Marie kept producing great stories right up to the end.)

One day Marie went to church, and someone from the congregation did a presentation about his trip to the Marquessa Islands in the South Seas.  She loved it so much that she went up afterwards and collected as much info as she could from the man.  Then she booked a ticket and boarded a French freighter by herself. 

She was four months short of 89 years old. 

Marie is the kind of lady I would like to be when I'm 89.  If I'm a lady when I'm 89.

Pre-Birthday video

Things I want to remember

Hannah and I had a conversation last night that reminded me that I do a lot of blathering about my esoteric thoughts on parenting, but I don’t spend a lot of time writing about Elliot.

He’s been taking objects and holding them over his head lately.  Sometimes it seems like he is just raising his arms high in the air, and I’ve starting saying “Sooooo big” when he does it.  It seems like every parent is required by genetic impulse to do this.

But that’s probably just my interpretation of his actions.  He may be taking the object and hiding his face with it, doing his own version of peekaboo.  Still, it seems like most times he really is trying to lift the object over his head, or at least on top of it.  Does he really love hats? 

Another new wrinkle has arisen from our effort to get him to use a spoon.  We have these bendy rubber spoons (I’ve been calling them “suicide spoons,” which no one seems to find funny) and we give them to him when he’s in his high chair.  The idea is to get him used to holding the spoon himself, and for him to start feeding himself.  

What’s happened in practice is something different.  And I take responsibility for it.

When we first started giving him the spoon, he grabbed it and examined blob of food sitting in the bowl.  Then he stuck one of his little mealworm fingers into the blob and pulled it out.  Then he stuck the mealworm finger in my mouth.

I made the mistake (perhaps?) of eating the food he offered me.  To do otherwise seeme rude!  Elliot loved that I ate the food.  He fed me more, and it became a game.

Now, whenever we give him a spoon with food in it, hoping he will learn to use it, he immediately picks it up and plops a finger in and tries to feed me.  Utensil skills are not on their way....

Things are moving along nicely on the walking front.  He’s cruising like a demon, pops up onto two feet whenever there’s anything that will hold him up.  We got him a little baby walker, so that he can practice walking forward and not just crabwalk sideways all the time.  He pushes it quite adeptly now, and he reminds me of a little old lady pushing her cart through the supermarket.  He even stops off to grab things while he walks--- if he sees a toy he wants while he’s pushing his walker, he will bend over and grab it and then stand back up and keep walking, clutching the toy against his chest with one arm.

Halloween!

When you're a one-year old who can't walk, Halloween ain't the best holiday for you.  Also, not eating processed sugar (by choice!  he hated the frosting on his birthday cake!) makes it difficult to enjoy as well.

What being a one-year old does lend itself to is adorableness.  Which we maximized.

Can you guess what he's dressed as?

Nope, not an angry turtle.

That's right, it's a dinosaur!

I realized I never post photos of Elliot crying, so some of you may think he never does.  Be corrected.

Hannah and I took him over to the Park Slope Halloween parade for about ten seconds.

Yes, that's asphalt beneath his tiny delicate head.

More on parenthood

Okay, maybe that post about how I treat Elliot like a dog was a little weird.

My point is not that I learned how to be a parent from a dog.

It's that you did.

We all did.  We as a species have been co-evolving with dogs for thousands of years.  How were we able to domesticate a species (the wolf) without a certain nurturing element in ourselves?  A nurturing aspect very similar to parenting....

Sure, our nurturing impulse existed before we domesticated dogs.  Apes have a nurturing impulse.  Turtles have it too.  Every species needs to nurture in order to raise its progeny.

My point is that the specific flavor of nurturing, the details of how we do it, have been affected by dogs.

Some scientists estimate that humans have had dogs for more than 30,000 years.  That's a long enough period for evolution to occur.

Maybe we used to raise our children differently back in the caveman days.  But over the past 30,000 years, our interactions with dogs have been woven into who we are.  The aggressive tug-of-war style that works for dogs has slowly seeped over into the way we raise our kids.

Like for example:  this weird penchant for aggressive play with kids.  Where does that come from?  The whole "I'm gonna get you" thing that every single parent does.

Even the most unaggressive people will pretend to chase their kids like monsters.  What's up with that?  When you stop and think about it, it makes no sense.  And yet it is part of who we are.

Dogs.  They explain it all.  That's my theory.