Fashion and babies and Bleu

World, meet Bleu. I'm pretty sure he's going to be Baboo II.

This was one of those 'kill two birds with one stone' moments. The baby did not want clothes on. He wanted to hold his blanket and run at the same time. He wanted to smell his Bleu but did not have time to sit down with it. He wanted to chew on the blanket corners. He also wanted the fuzzy side facing him and not the silky. He wanted to be running AND playing hide-n-seek AND being silly.

In fact, this was like killing a whole herd of birds with that stone!



I didn't say he'd be easy to catch.
Only that he'd be happy.

Can you hear me now?

Dad? It's me, Smitty. I can't hear you very well. I'll squish it harder against my head.
Dad!
What's wrong with this thing. Dad! Are you there? Shaking stuff usually fixes it. Also tasting it.
It's true. I'm hilarious. Smitty's out. Peace!

Solving his own problems

Step 1. find a MUCH bigger container for your milky bedtime drink

Step 2. fit container with delivery nozzle of your choice.

Step 3. be pleased with your own genius.

Step 4. get super mad when there's no actual milky bedtime drink in the container, have a right little tantrum and throw all the parts down the heat vent.

Birthday Boy

Being a toddler is totally overrated. Do not you agree? I've spent a lot of time and effort trying to talk Smitty Baby into staying a baby.

Don't you want to stay a little snack-sized armful for a bit longer?

You don't really want those teeth, do you?

Crawling beats walking anydangday. Especially when you have a fuzzy tiger face right smack on your crawling bum.

I'm pretty sure all the cool kids are still in 6-month sizes.

Are you SURE you don't want to put some of these developmental milestones off a bit longer?

These were the most well-reasoned of my many, many arguments. I've got more!

Nothing doing, he said.

The night before his birthday, after the whole house had gone to bed, I got him back out of his crib and held his fleecy-pajamaed little self and snuffed up his not-newborn-anymore smell. And cried real tears.

And I realized that, as much as I want my baby to stay a little baby, the things he's doing now are amazing too. The pigeon-toed bulldog crawl and tiny voice saying 'momom' of 11 months is just as adorable as the scrunch-faced stretches and curled-up legs of 11 days. And we certainly get more sleep, says the rational part of my brain. Yes, says the part that's crying the tears. Only you just can't rewind the crawling to the curled-up froggy legs. You can't take 23 pounds of wiggles and make it seem like 7 pounds of helpless in your arms.

But I wish I could. Oh how I wish.


Well, my love, my own, in spite of all my advice you went ahead and turned one anyway. But we could still hold off on the walking thing. Just a wee bit longer.

Let them eat cake

Or cupcakes.

Peekaboo Barn cupcakes, to be exact. Smitty's favorite thing in the whole wide world of entertainment and Possible Party Themes is Peekaboo Barn. And Elmo. But mostly Peekaboo Barn.

Also Elmo involves waaaay to much red-dyed frosting and I am not A-OK with that.

And now, Birthday Boy Smitty will tell you how one attacks ones first birthday cupcake.

And I did receive a cupcake from my sister and I did take it for my own. Also I did wonder why I was sitting on the kitchen table.

I did poke at the cupcake. I did lick it and touch it and drop it.

And behold! I found it squishy and delightsome to taste.

And I did find that the cupcake did not end at the frosting bit but that there was a manner of cake beneath which I could crush and smoosh.

And I did wiggle and laugh and perhaps do a little dance as I pondered mine own good fortune.

Yea I did savor the cupcake. And it was good.

{fin}

To my Scrabble girls

For a while, I was doing really good at keeping up with a few Words With Friends games. And then this guy, Smitty McSmitten Mittens, discovered that he too, loves that iPod.

And if you think you're going to play a great word, or maybe toss an angry bird or two, you are confronted with this.

Oh! The iPod? Are we going to play Peekaboo Barn now for the maybe three millionth time?

Do you think it will be the sheep? Or the rooster? Or maybe even the dog! We must know!

And then you think to yourself how heart-meltingly cute his little giggle is when he hears the kid say "peekaboo barn" and you absolutely and completely give in to him, every single time.

And you lose all your Scrabble games.

This is me not caring

On kid #3, sometimes you flatter yourself that you are starting to figure things out. Then you get slapped in the face with (yet another) thing you failed to consider.

Holiday decorations and a pre-walking munchkin bent on terror and destruction, for example.

I left the nice nativity sadly tucked away in its box.

I put up the little tree which will, probably, most likely, I tell myself, not crush any little someones when they pull it over on themselves.

With the shatter-proof ornaments, because my kids have been known to eat tree-related holiday decor and, you know, safety first!

And the old, old, like from our haunted house old, gold garland.

And told the type-A part of my self that it's perfectly fine and everything will survive and he'll eventually lose interest and next year we can trust him with more of the decorations out.

Which is, I'm almost pretty sure, totally what's going to happen.

On being nine months old

When you are only nine months old
The world is on your string
There's things to climb
People to slime
A single tear earns snuggle time
Your mother makes up silly rhymes
When you are nine months old.

Oh clever little nine months old
Every thing a toy
A lock of hair
A rock to share
An empty box, a joy
Your world is full of things to eat
A toe or two will taste so sweet
A phone can be a scrumptious treat
When you are nine months old.

Exploring little nine months old
New wonders to behold
To climb the chairs
And scale the stairs
The fridge's heights
Hold new delights
And treasures yet untold
From far across the kitchen floors
To bang the pots and climb the drawers
There's springy things behind the doors!
The cupboards are the place to play
Who locked these darn things anyway?
Yet on we go, come what may
For we are nine months old.



When you are but nine months old
There are things that get you down
Your delicious sticky face is wiped
Your treasures and your toys are swiped
Your tantrums quelled
Your bum is smelled
Tasty tidbits are withheld
Without your saying so, you see
There isn't any dignity
In being nine months old.

When you are only nine months old
'Mama's boy' is no bad thing
For too soon, they all will say
10 months will be on its way
And we will look back on the day
When you were nine months old.

And when someday you stand alone
Out of my arms and on your own
All owies patched and tears been dried
Though I'm filled with mother's pride
To my secret heart inside
You'll still be nine months old.

An 8 month Smit

Smit 8.0 is so wildly different from all previous versions - by the end of this post you'll be running out to get your own!

Your 8 Month Smitty comes with a variety of New & Improved features!

-Crawls, scoots and pulls up.
-Loves to hip-ride. He clings to me, baby-koala-like, one hand wrapped in my shirt collar and the foot behind me kicking away contentedly.
-Is compatible with all fruits, vegetables, meats, grains - all foods and treats in general.
-Comes with a fascination with the electrical outlet covers.
-Has a love-hate relationship with Joe's hat. He grabs the brim in both chubby fists, talks to it animatedly then loses his temper and tries to take a big slobbery chomp out of it. Joe says his viewpoint of the experience is quite unique.
-Eats cheerios, puffed cereal and bits of cracker by rolling his drooly fist in the pile, sucking the bits and crumbs off and starting over.
-Has a lot to say, (translation book sold separately)
-Loves Baby Einstein and Sesame Street videos (manamana... doo dooooo do do do).

Bugs in Smit 8.0

-Nursing is a little more high-energy with increased levels of arm-waving, hair-pulling, foot-kicking, pulling, nipping and general distractedness.
-If your Smitty is not fed promptly and fast enough, it will develop (between bites) a high-pitched yowl that will grow into a piercing shriek unless the problem is remedied.
-A mean old tooth is trying to work its way in, causing night-waking and general crankiness (a temporary patch is available in the form of frozen mangoes and bananas.)

It had to happen someday

Yesterday I told someone that baby Smittins did not, at all, for any reason, crawl.



Thanks for making a liar out of me dude.

Fortunately, we've started construction on his prison.

7 months is made of...

1 part chunk-style thighs

3 parts toothless, milky grins

2 parts longing to be bigger

15 parts popsicle-snatching stickyness

1 part splashy bathtime clean

2 parts sad and frowny

5 parts super-sidekick

3 parts bouncy sleepyhead

7 parts pinchy pinchy bums

1 part future technological genius

4 parts mischief-making kitten

Fold together gently with plenty of hugs, a splash of kisses and enjoy.