Pee Pee in the Pot-Tay!

You've gone ahead and taken the first step in potty training yourself.


Only you're backwards. And you have clothes on. Also, I'm not sure why you've bought my favorite pink kitchen tongs along with you. If you think we're going to use those to pick up the poo poo, you're... hmm... maybe I'll buy another pair of tongs.

Step 1: Make a Drink.

A couple of weeks ago, you threw up milk all over your new Britax car seat.


Now, you really want to wash a curdled-milk-stained car seat right away, or else the smell turns into something awful. So that's what we did. Well, that's what your father did while I took you to the beach. (I know, hardly seems fair, right? But it was Mother's Day weekend and your father is a saint.)

Not an easy task, washing this boat of a car seat. It took your dad 3 different phone calls to stores and a web video to figure out how to remove the covering. And putting it all back together once everything had been hand-washed? Forget about it. I used to think Ikea assembly was hard. Not anymore.


(Image here)

Baby Proofing

Today you are 13 months old and we finally, FINALLY got to baby-proofing the house.


There you have it... gates, door locks, drawer latches, outlet covers, toilet seat locks, etc. Besides keeping you safe, I see 3 things resulting from this. Some good, some bad, and some very bad.

1. I will snack less.

(Here is where I share with you how lazy I am...) Just a second ago I went to the pantry to get some chips. But because it wasn't effortlessly simple to open the cupboard and grab them, I decided against it. Mind you, it's one push of a latch and the chips are at my disposal, but the effort it takes to exert such force with my fingers wasn't worth it at the time. No matter, I didn't need the chips.

2. I will pee in my pants more.

This is self explanatory. Those toilet seat locks are tricky. And I've already told you how lazy I am.


3. Your father will fall down.

Your dad leaves the house at 5am every morning for his radio job. It's dark, he's tired. It's very likely that just once, or maybe twice, he'll forget about the gate and go flying over it. Hmm, maybe we should pad the floors too?

scoot-a-roooooooooo!

Recently, we bought you a "walker" at Babies R Us. This guy here, cheap, nothing fancy. A walker sounds a little bit like you're 92 vs. 9 months so we call it your scoot-a-roo. You LOVE your scoot-a-roo.

At first, you could only maneuver it backwards but NOW, now you run around this house like Usain Bolt. Sort of like Usain Bolt. And sort of like Fred Flinstone in this:



I'm pretty sure you're getting more exercise than me. I'm pretty sure I never exercise.

B is for BOB

We have finally upgraded you to a regular stroller. Until now, you have been roaming around in your car seat and $49.99 Snap-N-Go. Don't get me wrong, this is a miraculous piece of baby equipment. So easy, so small, so cheap. I will miss its convenience and its snappiness and the way it invoked a "LET'S GO!" attitude. But, it was time to move on. You were starting to look very cramped, like a basketball player riding around in a Kia. Not anymore. Now, you are part of the BOB Revolution. Nope, not a chapter in American History like it sounds, but a stroller. An epic, massive stroller:

In your BOB REVOLUTION (all caps feels appropriate), you look like a tiny little player, cruising around in your sports car on three wheels. The other day we took you to the Promenade, and as we passed the other babies in the other strollers, I liked to imagine you communicating with them Look Who's Talking style (imdb.com, son). Let's say James Earl Jones narrates your thoughts.

You: What's your ride?

Other Baby (voice of Roseanne Barr): The Bugaboo. Suri Cruise Holmes had one.

You: Well I'm a part of the BOB REVOLUTION.

Other Baby: What's that?

You: I don't know.

Other Baby: Oh. Does your mom jog with you in that?

You: No.

Other Baby: Isn't it meant for that?

OKAY let's stop this nonsense. Who needs to jog when you can push a stroller WITH YOUR PINKY FINGER. That's right, I can. By the way, if you don't know James Earl Jones, here he is reading the alphabet:

Food, Glorious Food!

When you were around 6 months old, I started making you food. A big step! Big Boy Food, we call it. Although it looks more like it should be served at a nursing home or a zoo. We started with rice cereal, which you loved. (I bought this packaged - I'm not Supermom... unless you think I am in which case yes, I am Supermom.) Then came bananas, which I mashed and put in your cereal. This brought back bad memories for your Auntie Hannah. Once, when she was eating a banana as a little girl, I told her it was bird boogers, and she threw up. Anyway, you like them!

Next came the actual cooking and pureeing! Sweet potatoes, squash and apples so far. Here's the sweet potato, which you were down with:

Then came squash. I'm really glad I made so much and froze it in ice cube trays (below), because every time you took a bite of it you would close your eyes really tight, your body would shake slightly and you would make this awful gagging noise. Great!

Apples were next. I knew you'd love apples. Who doesn't love apples? They're American! They're pie! I was so excited to watch you love apples. You hate apples. Same eyes shut, shiver, gag reaction. Well, I'll tell you what, it's only day 2 of apples and I will pull my little "here comes the choo choo train" spoon trick until you're begging for more. So there! (I'm most likely going to move onto something else after day 3. What?! I'm restless...)

It's an empowering feeling, making your own baby food. Do I feel better than moms who buy jarred baby food? Yes. NO! That was a joke. I'll be buying you grey peas in 5 minutes... But for now, it makes me feel productive. It makes me feel like we're back in the olden days of yore, and I'm feeding you hearty, earthly goodness in a candle lit room because it's my only option.

Also, I love to cook. And I highly recommend this: Babycook!