Happy 18 Months!

Weight: 25 lbs. 15.5 oz (let's just say 26 lbs.)...72nd percentile
Height: 35.25 inches (just shy of 3 feet??)...above 97th percentile
Head: 19 in...89th percentile

This child has had a major growth spurt in the past three months!  He's still in size three diapers and will be for a little while longer because he's so lean, even though the suggested weight limit on the diaper box for size three is 27 pounds.

His favorite thing to do is still "cooking," whether it's pretend or helping out.  It's become a regular thing to make pancakes together on the weekends, and he loves dumping in the ingredients and mixing.

Cooking packets of tea

He graduated to a toddler forward-facing car seat last week.  We had a Chicco 30 pound car seat that we've used since the beginning, but Weston's way too tall for it now.  I know, the new recommendations are to keep them rear-facing until they're at least two, but this is what we could swing right now.  I think he enjoys the new view in the car.

He melts my heart on a daily basis, but the other night was a good one.  When he's ready to go upstairs for his bath, I always tell him, "Say 'Goodnight, Dada.' " as we head up.  He usually responds and says it, along with a super cute wave.  I also tell him to say the same thing to me when I put him down in the crib.  Well, last night as I was putting him in the crib, he said all on his own in an adorable sleepy voice, "A-night, Mama."  

Sigh.  Makes a mom forget about all the food thrown on the floor, the endless mess of toys downstairs, the crying, the early morning wake ups, etc.

He's also repeated some not-so-desirable phrases, which is always really funny, and I know I'm not supposed to laugh.  But, there's something so cute about hearing a toddler try to say, "Oh, shit!"

We've also got continued good news on the lead poisoning front.  His latest lab work shows a 6.8 μg/dL, which is nearly a 10 point drop from when he first was diagnosed back in May.  We have the lead abatement work currently being done on the outside of the house, and once they're finished with that, they'll begin their work indoors.  Thanks to a grant through the city of Cincinnati, we're able to get the work done so that we're not in some horrible financial situation.


I had to take down the sign on the front door on Halloween so that we'd get some trick-or-treaters, and I've not put it back up:

One of three bright yellow signs on our property...

My Wish List

I grew up with pets.  We always had a dog around the house, and consequently, they were never the skinniest of animals.  There were always scraps of food that they either woofed up off of the floor, or--if we were trying to be more civilized--ended up in their food dish.

Currently, we don't have any pets due to a number of reasons, but there are times when I really wish we had a dog.  Weston loves dogs (it was one of his first words), and as the cold weather sets in, there's nothing better than a living heating blanket on the bed to keep my feet warm.  But, there are many reasons why we don't have a dog--cost, nails on wooden floors, dried puddles of drool, and piles of hair (in addition to piles of toys, food, and whatever else).

However, when I come home from running errands, and walk into the kitchen (all under Nate's watch) and find this, I really want to rent a dog for one minute, three times a day.  Wait.  Make that four because snack time can be just as messy.

Unwanted quesadilla chunks and no dog

A Moment

These are some of the better moments from the past month or so.  There have been some horrible ones (like the one night where he was up every two hours with an inconsolable ear infection), but these are the ones I'd like to remember.

 First attempt on the balance beam:

Concentration and determination are adorable

 I'm exhausted after a crappy night's sleep for everyone due to a cold, but he's dreaming away:

Nothing more lovely than a sleeping babe

 At his friend Seneca's house on Friday night, checking out the new toys, and especially protective of the xylophone:

"Mom, seriously?  We're playing here.  Please."

 At Washington Park, exploring new territory:

Easy does it

One of our friends came over the other day while Weston was eating breakfast and was able to capture this moment of a really, really good time:

Who knew breakfast could be so exciting?

The Letter V

I'd like to think I'd have a lot more time on my hands if I weren't so neurotic sometimes.

Let me share what goes on inside my head for a moment...  Weston has an alphabet train that has 26 2-inch individual blocks that snap in and out of the train.  Every few weeks since he's gotten it for Christmas last year, I've taken to counting all the blocks just to make sure that they're all there.  On occasion, I've counted the blocks and come up with 25, but I've always been able to find #26, hidden in some compartment that Weston forgot about.  I do this same thing with his puzzles--always putting the pieces back together.  He has four sets of flashcards that I have yet to let co-mingle.  I always sort them out (they're grouped by theme) and put them back in their proper boxes.

Dumb, I know.  I think I do it because I'd like to be able to pass along all the amazing intact toys that we were so graciously given by friends and family to some parents-to-be down the road.  I hope that they will be intact.  No kid likes puzzles with pieces missing.

Turns out that a couple of weeks ago was the first time I counted 25 and haven't been able to find the letter V.  I'm obsessed!  I've looked in drawers, closets, all the usual places, and I've come up empty.  I was irritated.  Outsmarted by a toddler.

I often wonder where stuff like that goes--unmatched socks, a lone glove, one earring, a toddler's shoe, the AWOL cell phone charger, etc.  And yet, I've seen those things of other people on bike paths, in school lost-and-founds, public restroom counter tops, in my neighborhood, and I somehow can't fathom how in the world it got there.  Just a couple of months ago, Nate and I returned home from a meandering walk in our neighborhood on one of those nasty hot days (which I would enjoy right now as I sit here in a sweater and pajama pants), and realized that Weston was sporting only one sandal.

Crap.  We both looked at each other, hoping the other one would utter what we each wanted to say, which was, "Forget it.  Summer's almost over and he's got plenty of other shoes that will fit."

Instead, I said, "Do you want to go look for it, or should I?"  He cocked his head, silently asking Did you really just give me an out? and said, "I'll stay back with Weston."  So, out I went, retracing our steps in blazing heat.  Enjoying the second round of the walk, I kept my eyes toward the ground.  About halfway through, there it was.  The toddler's sandal.  Rescued from hours, days, or even weeks of strangers walking by and wondering, "What the hell is that shoe doing here?"

Right now, that letter V block could have been subjected to such humiliation (Who knows?  Did Weston smuggle it on a trip to Kroger, only to have it fall out of his hand on the way into the store?).  Or perhaps it's tucked away in some little corner of the house, patiently awaiting to be discovered when the kids are out of the house, and we're packing up to retire to something smaller.  At which point, I'll probably shed a tear or two, fondly remembering how cute it was when I would find Weston's toys in the funniest places.

Where did you hide the letter V??!??

Throwdown with Weston

If I ever invest in another refrigerator, I will absolutely not go without a lock on the water dispenser. Much to my dismay and that of our wooden floors, our fridge doesn't have one, and that little fountain of eternal joy is no longer out of reach for Weston.  His arms and legs have grown just enough recently to take baby-proofing the house to the next level.  There are tables that were once okay to put things on, but we're quickly running out of space to put coffee mugs, the iPad, pens, and the computer mouse.

After I picked Weston up from day care this afternoon, he did his usual routine of pulling all the pots and pans out of the cabinet to play Cooking.  His latest ingredient is water.  From the fridge.  In a sippy cup.  Tippy toes. Make contact with the lever.  Spray water everywhere.  Get some into the cup.  Walk over to the pots.  Dump it into the pot.  Return to fridge.  Tippy toes.  Ad infinitum...

I decided that I didn't want to deal with that today, so I set up an outdoor kitchen for Cooking, complete with a continuous supply of water, and this is what he did for the next thirty minutes:

Don't you love how he tastes his food??  I love watching him do grown up things!  I actually love watching how he imitates Nate.  My hubby does most of the cooking, and we actively let Weston participate in the kitchen as much as we can.

After I was done shooting this video, we had to go inside and eat "real" dinner.

He screamed when I took him away from his kitchen...

And So It Begins

This past week has been traumatic for me.  Weston started going to child care on Monday, which is stressful enough as it is, but almost immediately following his first day there, he's developed MAJOR sleeping issues at night.  Major as in: crying for about 45 minutes before falling asleep (before he would just lay his head down on the pillow and go to sleep); waking up multiple times throughout the night crying hysterically; Friday he woke up at 2am and would not go back to sleep until 5am (and Friday was picture day at work for me and I looked like a crazy woman); and then for his most recent act of craziness...

HE CLIMBED OUT (or tumbled out) OF HIS CRIB LAST NIGHT.

He will be 16 months old in about 4 days.

Yes, his mattress is as low as it will go.

No, there isn't anything in the crib that he could get a leg up on.

Here's how it happened...He woke up sometime again around 2am last night, (after waking up at midnight) and I went in after letting him cry for about 10 minutes.  He clamored to be picked up, but I laid down on the floor and told him that it was time to sleep.  That didn't work as well as I was hoping, but he did calm down a bit.  As I got up to leave the room, he got really upset, but I left anyway, and walked back to our room to the sounds of him screaming.  I laid down on our bed, and no sooner than I started to tell Nate what went on above the intensifying screams of Weston, did I hear his little hands jiggling the door knob to his room.  Oh my God, he got out of the crib!  Leaping up out of bed, I went flying down the hallway, opened the door, and scooped him up.  He immediately stopped crying and showed no signs of any injury.

I have no idea how he got out--did he fall or did he climb down?  I didn't hear any thump.

Crib tents have been recalled, so perhaps it's time to switch to a toddler bed.  But he's so young!  I don't know how a bed is going to make this situation any easier.  At least if he wants to get out, the mattress is 10 inches from the floor instead of four feet.

Thankfully, I am married to a fine designer who happens to work for a company called BaserMatter.  Nate spent this afternoon designing a toddler bed for Weston (complete with his name laser cut on it!) and is now at the studio cutting it out on the CNC mill.  Hopefully, Weston will have a custom-made toddler bed to sleep in by tonight.

I'm not entirely sure what to do here.  I think perhaps pushing his bedtime earlier will help him sleep more soundly through the night.  He currently goes to bed between 6:30 and 7, but with all the changes that are going on, I think he's getting really tired.  He's napping while at child care, but I don't think it's been long enough.

Anyone else have experience with kids climbing out of their cribs or changes in sleep patterns after starting child care?

As promised...BaserMatter delivers before bedtime!!

Enjoying the Outdoors with a Toddler

Those of you that know me, know that I am an avid outdoors-woman.  Camping, mountain biking adventures through the Rockies, hiking, water-skiing, etc.

But something happened in May 2011.  I had a little burrito.  And my life (and my lifestyle) instantly changed.

My experience has been this: Years ago, I thought, "I will not give in to the demands of a child and put my outdoor lifestyle on hold."  That has not turned out to be true.  Weston and I went camping last month out in Utah with my sister, and yes, it was challenging.  First of all, he did not want to fall asleep, and when he finally did, he did not sleep soundly nor long enough.  It wasn't a disaster, but it was a good reminder that neither he nor I were accustomed to sleeping in a tent with each other.

I imagine that had Nate and I taken Weston camping frequently throughout the past 15 months, then perhaps it would have been a little easier.  I have read that people say it's not that bad camping with a baby, as long as they're not crawling or walking yet.  Then after about age 3 or so, it gets easier to camp as they're able to understand adult directions and consequences.  So it seems that there's a window of a couple of years where it's fairly difficult to camp with a child.

We're currently in that window.  Weston wanted absolutely nothing to do with lying down for bedtime while in the tent.  It was much more exciting to run around and push on the sides of the tent and bounce back onto the squishy sleeping bags and air mattress.  I tried doing all the normal bedtime routines, like reading a story to calm down a bit.  Forget it--the zippers on the tent are A.MAZ.ING!

A couple of weeks ago, we took a little family vacation to the Red River Gorge in Kentucky to meet up with my dear friend from college and her hubby.  They were going to camp and wanted to know if we wanted to share their site with them.  I instantly flashed back to how sleep deprived I was on Friday morning after our camping experience in Utah.  I checked the weather--in the low 90s with 80-90% humidity.  How would he nap in that?

I googled "camping with toddler" and read a comment from someone about how our ancestors lived in the wilderness and so there should be no reason as to why we can't take our children camping.  I'm all for that, buddy, but our ancestors also didn't have tents set up in the blazing sunshine, and they had innovative ways to deal with the elements that may or may not be available to us (like sleeping under a rock overhang to keep cool at night).

So, I made the decision to rent a tiny cabin for two nights that had A/C and a bathroom.  It was still crazy trying to figure out how Weston was going to sleep in a one room place...we ended up setting up the pack and play in the bathroom, but realized that we couldn't close the door, so Nate took the shower curtain off the shower and hung it in the doorway to block out sound and light.  It worked quite well.  And I slept well both nights!

Weston's helping Kenton pack the Ninja cooler for our hike

Where'd it go?

Leah and I taking a break from carrying our children...

At Creation Falls

Do You Understand Me?

I teach English to students whose first language isn't English.  It's a challenging career choice, but I've learned over the years how to get my point across as well as figure out what my students are saying.  Drawing pictures and acting out scenarios are tactics that come in handy.

But...communicating with a child who doesn't have any language to begin with is slightly more interesting.  We're teaching Weston sign language whenever we can.  He can do "hot," "more," "dog," "bell" (we live near a church and the bells ring at 6pm every evening and he gets so excited when he hears them), and "duck."  There might be a few more.  Anyway, he has started to use the sign for "more" to mean "I'm-thinking-of-something-and-you-don't-know-what-that-thing-is-but-I-want-it-now-and-you-should-really-figure-out-what-I'm-thinking.  DUH."

My favorite example of this is when I get him up in the morning.  We go over to the window and look outside onto the backyard.  We have the kiddie pool and Weston's bike out there, and lately, he will make the sign for "more" while babbling excitedly about something.  "More" used to mean that he was hungry and wanted more food, but now I think it means "I want to swim / ride my bike / eat another banana."  Only he knows what he wants, but it's getting a bit easier to figure it out.

We've had some 90-degree days here, and Weston LOVES his swimming pool.  All day long: "Water?  Water?"