I totally forgot that babies continue to grow once you get past 12 months. For some reason I had gotten it into my head that after his first birthday Baby Evan would just continue to be one forever. Which, actually, wouldn’t be so bad. It’s a pretty good age. If you don’t count the teething, which could really be said about almost any baby age. Oh teething.

Chillin' at Stroller Strides, still our favorite way to start the morning. Despite the obvious AWESOMENESS of that hat he refuses to keep it on more than 30 seconds.

On the super cool milestone front, yesterday E taught Baby Evan to climb up AND slide down his Little Tikes plastic slide by himself. There was only one falling-on-his-head incident, which is normal for an average day around here. Baby Evan sometimes falls on his head just from looking at the dog wrong. I’m really impressed he has the gross motor skills and the kind of control over his limbs it takes to climb a ladder, swing his legs around under him and push down a slide, especially since until recently the best he could do was kick the slide end and whine when I told him not to climb up that way. Although I think this means trips to the playground can no longer be called “leisurely” – the slide there is like 14 FEET TALL. Head-falling from that height is not so fun.

This picture makes my teeth hurt. Why my child is the only person on the planet who things gnawing on tin foil is fun is beyond me.

As far as the food thing goes, well, I almost don’t want to talk about it since things have improved so so so much it’s not worth jinxing. I’m willing to risk the wrath of the mommy-gods with almost ANYTHING ELSE (including sleep, as in, we night-weaned Baby Evan again this week and it’s going super well! I’m looking forward to a full 9 straight hours of sleep in my very very near future!) but when my kid actually starts opening his mouth and letting me feed him stuff off a fork I cannot screw that up. I will tell you he drank cow’s milk AND lemonade out of a glass today – with our help – so it’s just about time to start pushing the sippy cup as a means of hydration rather than just pouring water on the floor. My nipples are practically weeping with joy.

Just call me Baby E for Enigma. Or not. Whatevs. Does this look like the face of someone who cares?

Dude, we’re on a whole new chart over at BabyCenter!

Mastered Skills (most kids can do)
• Uses two words skillfully (e.g., “hi” and “bye”) – I dunno. He say mama and dada with some purpose. He said “nigh-nigh” at bedtime last week. He’s said “hai” for a while but not consistently. He says things that sound like kitty and dog and no but not on command. I’m not exactly concerned about his language skills but he’s not exactly advanced.
• Bends over and picks up an object – Let’s just assume he can do every physical milestone between now and 18 months. Because physical development is not our problem.

Emerging Skills (half of kids can do)
• Enjoys gazing at his reflection – He’s so vain, he probably thinks this blog is about him. Oh wait. Yes.
• Holds out arm or leg to help you dress him – Does kick his legs and arms and flail to prevent diaper changes count? Then yes. But he does know socks go on your feet and will try to put his socks on if I let him.

Advanced Skills (a few kids can do)
• Combines words and gestures to make needs known – He still knows the sign for milk and dog a kitty and stop but doesn’t do them himself. I would say he combines yelling with reaching but not words and gestures.
• Rolls a ball back and forth – He can hit a ball with a stick and throw a ball in a forward direction about 75% of the time. The rest of his tries end up as some sort of slapstick routine where he drops it behind his head and gets totally confused when he can’t find it. I’ll try rolling back and forth this week.

Happy Monthday Little Monster!

My BFF Erin is terrified of birds. She hates pretty much everything about them, from their flappy wings to their little bird feet to their pointy beaks. When we lived in Charleston (a city thoroughly infested with both pigeons and sea gulls) I used to have to walk ahead of her and scare the birds off the sidewalks. Once a bird almost touched her and I think she actually passed out for a second. So the super-special free members weekend in the bird exhibit at our aquarium is pretty much her idea of the ninth circle of hell. But for E and Baby Evan and me it was super duper cool.

There were a LOT of birds

Admission included a seed stick to get the birds to come down and sit on you

Every time they landed on my hand I squealed a little bit. EEEEE!

Double-fisting the bird seed.

This bird was not friendly, although he did steal all the seed off my stick when I tried to share. Pushy twit.

Baby Evan liked the birds too.

Although he MAY have yanked a tail feather or two off of this one.

No tail yanking! Birds don't tolerate that kind of behavior the way your cat does.

And surprisingly, none of us got crapped on.

Sorry Erin, the pictures were too good not to post. Forgive me?

I’m not sure if all kids do stuff that totally puzzles their parents or if mine is just special, but sometimes I think my baby is the strangest baby ever born.

– Baby Evan likes to sit on people. And things. And animals. But mostly people. It started with sitting in our bookcase but now he just loves sitting in general. He will walk up to a total stranger, turn around and back up until his legs hit them and them plop right down. Sunday night he sat on E’s face twice. He also sits on other babies, which could be a problem when we have a tiny one laying around.

Lounging out on the dog

– Baby Evan’s new favorite thing is my eyelashes. He will pet each eye veeeeery veeeery gently for as long as I will let him while we’re nursing, and every once in a while during the day he comes over and pats them just to make sure they’re still there. I don’t know if he likes the way they feel or if he’s just fascinated by mascara or what, but he can’t get enough eyelashes. Adorable quirk or future makeup artist?

– Although we’re starting to see some improvement, Baby Evan is still only vaguely interested in food. AND YET anything that is not food gets eaten immediately. Dirt. Plastic. Yarn. DEAD LADYBUGS. My friend Sarah’s daughter has appointed herself the mulch police at the playground since “Baby Eban eatin’ mulch again! Baby Eban not make wise choices”. How is it possible that a kid who literally spits out ice cream and bacon will eat his body weight in mulch in five minutes?

– Baby Evan is too young to start turning everything into a gun but he’s already all about swords. Spatulas are swords. Brooms are swords. Rectangular shaped blocks are swords. EVERYTHING IS A SWORD AND EVERYTHING ELSE MUST BE DEFEATED WITH THOSE SWORDS. It’s kind of funny when he pokes the cat. It’s not so funny when he smacks me in the eye while I’m trying to change his diaper. It also makes outdoor playdates quite a challenge.

EVIL TREE! I SHALL BANISH YE!

– OK, this is definitely the weirdest thing. I’m actually sort of hesitant to even post it in case 20 years from now he stumbles across this post while Googling “why do I have this strange fetish?” at the request of his therapist. Baby Evan is in love with my feet. I think he likes feet in general (starting with his own) but mine, well, mine he looooooves. Just wiggling my toes can make him laugh hysterically (insert correct link to the video I posted of the baby laughing at my feet here, if I could remember when the hell I took so I could find it again). Sometimes he kisses them. Sometimes he bites them, but I actually manages to teach him the meaning of “gentle” by shouting when he bit me too hard. He prefers it when I don’t wear shoes but will settle for gnawing on my sneakers if I refuse to take them off. I’m hoping he outgrows it. Soon.

Please tell me your kid is weird too.

Thank you thank you THANK YOU to everyone who donated! Your generosity will help mamas and babies have healthy, full term pregnancies. Although the walk is over (and thus your chance to make me suffer personally is past), donations and volunteers are always welcome.

Our weather on Saturday was picture-perfect – low humidity, hours and hours of sunshine, warm enough for shorts, which is unusual in Connecticut in April. Unfortunately, the walk was Sunday. Not such good weather – rain, rain, and more rain, but it didn’t stop tons of people from showing up. I briefly considered leaving Baby Evan home (with E of course, not tied to a chair or something) but decided marching with my baby would be more fun. And it was, except for the fact that my stroller doesn’t have a rain shield so I hauled his chubby butt 3 miles in a backpack carrier. It was…a really good workout. And I definitely think I deserve extra credit for doing it pregnant.

Here are the pictures I took and some of my live-tweeting. I was super excited when @marchofdimes actually tweeted back!

Skeptical baby is skeptical about getting out of the car in the rain

Once I got the baby in his bubble he was warm and dry. Don't worry, it has air holes.

See? Festive!

Sarah with Baby C. She's one of my crazy hippie friends. You can tell by the baby tied to her chest.

Baby A in her Stroller Strides t-shirt. She's not in a cage, just under a bug/rain cover.

Most of our team, ready to get going! Waiting for the "official" start at 10 am was actually the most unpleasant part of the day.

"Low tide" is the nice way to say it. Although one little girl caught a whiff and accused her brother of pooping.

He says he doesn't hate babies, he's just too smart to go wander around in the rain.

Here we go! The backpack worked really well (and was the only one there) but DUDE, my kid is a CHUNK.

True story. And I tripped like 14 times.

Our fantastic Stroller Strides team!

The view from the end of Bluff Point. Nice today, FANTASTIC in good weather.

Bonus backpack feature: it has a stand so I can put him down for a few minutes. THANK GOD.

In the home stretch on the way back! I don't think walking backwards up a hill to take this picture was a wise choice, but it all worked out.

I've never been so happy to see a stupid balloon arch in my life.

And then we all went for Mexican food and lived happily ever after. Except I’m not sure I’ll be able to pick the baby up at all tomorrow. I think I’ll spend the evening researching what kind of heavy duty muscle relaxers are safe to take during pregnancy. There’s got to be some, right?

I have to say, it was a really great experience and such a good cause. I will definitely participate again next year, although I will being praying extra hard for better weather!

So you know babies? Sometimes I think they can be real jerks. Not jerks like parking in the “Customers with Infants” parking spots even when you clearly do not even have a car seat jerks or throwing your trash on the ground when there’s a trash can right there jerks or driving down the shoulder of the highway in traffic and then flipping me off when I don’t let you cut in jerks. Those kinds of jerks are doing it on purpose. Because they are jerks. But babies, babies just think they’re being funny. For example, mine thinks it’s really hilarious to hit me in the face with stuff. Spoons, sippy cups, his hands. HILARIOUS. As far as I know I’ve never reinforced this behavior in any way – you don’t much feel like laughing when you’ve just taken a spatula to the eye – but no matter how many firm, purposeful “NO”‘s I say he keeps doing it. Jerk.

Baby Evan also likes to play a game called “Let’s do the total opposite of the thing my mommy just said I always do”. So, for example, if I have just finished telling my friends how he’s really started to understand the sign for and word “Stop!” when he’s being naughty, he will immediately throw toys or bite me (did I mention the biting?) or yank the curtains right off the wall, no matter how many times I say “STOP! MAKE WISE CHOICES!” Or I’ll explain how we’ve FINALLY been making progress in the solid food department and Baby Evan ate a whole mini-pretzel just this morning so he would love it if you shared your baby’s snack with him. And then he spits soggy, half chewed Goldfish all over someone’s Vera Bradley diaper bag. Jerk.

Of course, then there’s the opposite baby, the one who screams and thrashes in his car seat, tries to throw himself out of my arms onto the parking lot pavement and kicks me while I buckle him into the shopping cart, only to be the SMILIEST, HAPPIEST, FRIENDLIEST baby even in the History Of The World while I do the grocery shopping. By the time I’m pushing him through the dairy aisle he’s made four new friends and all of them have said “Oh what a goooood baby you are. Is he always such a gooooood baby?” Of course I say yes. They don’t really want to hear about the screaming. Because then I’d look like a jerk.

There’s a chance I’m being unreasonable and childish and a Terrible Mother for saying these things. Maybe. But you didn’t have to clean crap off of EVERYTHING when Baby Evan has a poopsplosion yesterday and then rolled around in it. On the carpet. Laughing. Jerk.