Last Monday, Baby Grady hit the big 1-0, double digits. And that sounds terribly close to a year and the thought of being the mother of a one-year-old just floors me to my toes. I still don't have a clue what I'm doing! How have I been at this for ten months already? Who gave me this baby and just let me waltz off with him with no training* whatsoever? It's crazy, you guys.
Oh, and at the park yesterday? An adorable two-year-old little girl (with whom Grady was quite taken, it's true) pointed at me and said "a mommy!" Like it's really obvious or something.
Also at the park yesterday, we met another ten-month-old (little sister to the observant two-year-old), and it was fun because she and Grady were pretty much equal in development. Both standing while holding something, able to walk with assistance, interactive (but not talking). But omigosh, Baby Grady was so much more... aggressive? He wasn't unkind, of course. I just mean that his approach to the world was so much more grabby, loud, explorative, helloiambabygradyletsbefriends. The other baby sat and played with rocks while he tried to steal her stroller, is what I'm saying. And also her shoes (that were on her feet). And her hair-bow (yep, in her hair). It really made me wish I could be a fly on the wall at daycare and see how he is with his friends there. I talk to him A LOT about gentle touches, and he just thinks I'm a riot with that nonsense. So we do a lot of redirecting. I think that's going to be the story of my life for the next several years.
But as my cousin's husband says: "It's better to have the child you have to rein in than the one you have to work to inspire." And I think that's true. Now that Grady is on the move, we never have to work to entertain him or to find an activity for him; it's just constant scrambling to keep him out of trouble. He is so very hard-working. Yesterday he loaded the dogs' water bowl into his (empty) water table and dragged the whole thing around the patio for a while. No reason. Just for the sake of industry, I reckon. (He gets that from his father.)
His favorite new(ish) trick is clapping. He doesn't really do it with meaning, but rather just because it's neat and then others clap and cheer for him. So, I mean, you'd probably clap too if people responded like that. He's also started waving. It's unclear to me whether he knows that it has meaning. Again, he might be doing it just because it always elicits such a positive response. Adorable baby waving! YAY!!!
Amusingly, Grady is particularly into his books lately. He pulls them all down off the shelves and then sits and thoughtfully flips through them. He doesn't really care to be read to (and will steal the book from you if you try), but finds his books oddly intriguing.
How much Baby Grady weighs: 23 lbs. 3 oz.
How tall Baby Grady is: 30 inches
Size of Baby Grady's clothes: 12 month, 12-18 month, 18 month
Size of Baby Grady's shoes: 6-12 month, I think... a 4 maybe? (we just have the one pair that fit, and he's just started wearing them to the park, because he likes to stand over there and it's a bit pebbley.)
Baby Grady's hair color: blond
Baby Grady's eye color: pretty darn brown
Number of teeth in Baby Grady's mouth: 8
Baby Grady's favorites: the pub (any pub, as far as I can tell), our neighborhood Starbucks (where everybody knows his name), Zocalo (the coffee house with the great play space), cream-cheese sandwiches, his dogs, "What I Am", his water table (which I purchased at a yard sale for $3, astounding and annoying Jasper, who does not like things, except that clearly I won that one), this soup I made (cranberry bean, sweet potato, leek, and rainbow chard)
Baby Grady's least favorites: street fairs, diaper changes (yes, still, and it is ridiculous), going to sleep, sometimes his stroller, the vacuum
*Actually, that's quite the hyperbole. Long-time readers will recall that we took classes. Lots of them.