The Toyon Tree: August 2012

I reckon the big news is that from here on out, Grady has been out longer than he was in. And it blows my mind just a little to think we only just reached that milestone. It feels like eons ago that I was pregnant. And pregnancy, in my memory, is short, though it felt pretty long at the time. Oh, time! You fiendish, shape-shifting vixen!

Well, no sense putting it off. I may as well just tell you. Baby Grady? More charming by the day. He’s just ridiculous. Such a silly, curious, active little guy. I’m just terribly fond of him, I have to say. In the milestones roundup, he’s crawling expertly, pulling up on everything (even things like doors and walls that don’t have anything to grip, so he might be a baby Spiderman?), cruising, and walking with the assistance of a footstool he pushes around in front of himself. Highly motivated to get into everything, this one. He has this really cute thing he does (just one), where when he’s going after something he knows he isn’t allowed to have (dog water, for instance), he squeals with excitement and tries to crawl really fast to make a break for it. It’s ADORABLE. But I’m trying not to encourage it, because when he’s running, and I can’t so easily catch him, it will be less adorable when he makes his thrilling break for something he knows he isn’t allowed to have (the street, for instance). Parenting, man! Really!

With all this running around, Baby Grady is no longer the world’s most gigantic baby. For one he has more interesting things to do than eat all day. Also, the calorie burn of being a baby is intense, it seems. His head is on the large side, though, which runs on both sides of the family. (badum-ching!) Not weird-big or anything. Really, it’s fine. And as Jasper will tell you, head circumference is the most important indicator of brainy greatness. Or something? So there’s that. Just the other day, Baby Grady took a couple of wooden balls from one of his hammering toys and stuck them in his ball popper, which takes light, plastic balls (so that it can blast them forth on a current of air and merriment). I thought this was astoundingly brilliant. Jasper wasn’t sure, and thought maybe it wasn’t terribly clever to put the ball in the wrong place, where it would make the ball popper cease to function properly. In my view, it was not wrong, but rather “creative and experimental.” Your opinions are welcome, as long as they emphasize the fact that my baby is pure delight.

Over the weekend we went to a family BBQ that I initiated, but did not host. I’m quite clever, socially, you see. I get everyone excited about a party and then I say “how about we all come to your place!” (not a question) It’s perfect, though, because my cousin Shana’s family has pretty much the one house in the suburbs with acreage. Apparently it’s just a half-acre, but really, their yard feels giant, and is just the thing you need when you have a whole slew of kids running around and amok. And also, a trampoline. They have one.

While we were there, something magical happened. The first thing you need to know is that Baby Grady does not willingly get carried about or carted off by many people other than myself or Jasper. It’s been that way for months. He clearly tolerates his daycare ladies when they are the only option, but is displeased by them when we are present. He’s quite fond of his Auntie Katy, now that we have repeatedly abandoned him in her care. But he is not the sort of baby who can be passed about at parties all willy-nilly, here-hold-my-baby-while-I-have-another-gimlet. So. At one point Shana just snagged Baby Grady from me and walked off. Shana is a bit of a super-mommy, with three adorable blond children of her own, and apparently Baby Grady sensed that when it comes to fuzzy blond babies, Shana knows just what she’s doing. Because being baby-napped by her was something he was entirely down with. They walked all around the giant yard, chatting about things, and Grady didn’t sound his baby alarms once. In fact, he may have found her to be a perfectly viable proxy for that Milk Lady, who’s also always yammering on about things. I’d like to think he sensed a genetic kinship, because evolutionarily speaking, that would be neat. Yay science!

How much Baby Grady weighs: 21 lbs. 8 oz. (66th percentile)
How tall Baby Grady is: 29.25 inches (81st percentile)

Size of Baby Grady’s clothes: 12 month; 12-18 month
Baby Grady’s shoe size: I think he’s still a 4, but he doesn’t wear shoes. I hope he’ll be a 5 when he starts walking, because that’s the smallest size I bought.

Baby Grady’s eye color: brown with a blue undertone
Baby Grady’s hair color: blond

Baby Grady’s favorites: strawberries, unloading cabinets, walking with the assistance of a footstool, making friends at the coffee shop (gets this from me!)
Baby Grady’s least favorites: sleep (particularly the act of actually falling asleep, especially in regards to naptime); getting his diaper changed (this is new, and pretty unreasonable)

Yesterday I spent the whole entire day at the computer, with almost no breaks at all, except just a few to feed my remora-baby. Work deadlines are consuming the entire family these days. Jasper worked all day Saturday and on Sunday we switched. Fun weekend, let me tell you. Except that it wasn't and I highly recommend not spending your weekend thusly, if you have any choice at all in the matter. (We didn't.)

So, while I was clacking away at my keyboard, doing fancy grantwriting things (yeah, I was making a chart; a really big chart), the boys had a day all to themselves to go adventuring. Except that they had to stay relatively close to the milk lady. But still, they had fun, and if my camera can be trusted, at least one of them was incredibly cute for the whole entire day. He was looking quite brawny in his new viking onesie that Jasper got for him in Sweden. Like a giant, blond Scandinavian baby.

They went to the park:

They went grocery shopping:

They tore up some scratch paper:

They played under the crib (best possible use for a crib, if you ask Grady):

They unloaded the bookshelf:

They checked on the milk lady:

They played musical turtle:

They admired the baby in the mirror:

I happen to know that they also went crabbin' in the crabby paddling pool, but the 'razzi had apparently wandered off by then. Probably to stalk Michael Phelps now that he's retired and has every right to go a little crazy.