Boy

He is walking. He is talking. He is all boy.

He is fascinated by all things noisy. He can hear the bus cruising down Coney Island Avenue and points excitedly, "BUS! BUS!" We put a little step stool in front of the window and he stands and watches the buses and the garbage trucks and the fire trucks and the ice cream truck. When he's not on the step stool watching the Brooklyn excitement, he's walking around the house, bulldozer in one hand and something in his mouth (Mahalia's stethoscope, for example.)

I forgot how exciting language acquisition is for a kid and he wants to know what everything is, pointing and asking, "Dis? (this?)"
To my surprise (as if I've not done this before) he repeats everything I tell him. Perhaps more shockingly, he often utters full sentences of which Shane and I can discern a couple of words--"Iwannagoinsyangea BOOK" and sure enough, the little dude goes inside and comes back carrying his favorite tractor book.

He wakes up most mornings happy, smiling and chatting, often saying, "iwannaseeHalia." He'll scurry off, go into her bedroom and stand, waiting patiently by her bedside. He is a dreamy little boy whose hair gets blonder and skin gets browner by the day. We are all in happy family bliss much of the time, despite the gnarly daily life schedule, and feel giddy to be around each other.

yoku

I've always disliked when people start with, "I can't believe it's that time of the year again!!" It's begging for approval, for me to agree with it and it's slightly corny need to end in multiple exclamation points always makes me totally uncomfortable.

But I find myself here, now wanting to say it. I cannot believe how quickly this year has gone.

Desmond is now cruising around the house, curiously pulling most things off the shelf, climbing on those things that look dangerous for climbing (the toy piano for one,) and banging loudly on those things that make the loudest sound just to revel in the ruckus. He crawls around with a tiny tiger figurine and roars at things and people. Yes Desmond, you are VERY scary.

For his birthday, it appears that all four of his top teeth will emerge at once, leaving him drooly and snotty with swollen gums. i will bring home cupcakes from Magnolia Bakery, only feeling slightly guilty that I do not have the time or the interest to bake my own. Mahalia insists that he would like vanilla with chocolate icing while she would prefer chocolate with chocolate. They've already developed their own language so he may have told her for all I know.

I'm all of the sudden really into Yoga and Haikus. I like to think of haikus while resting in downward facing dog. Here's one that I made to honor Desmond's 1st Birthday. What a sweet, sweet boy.

Happy Birthday Dez
Blooming with the daffodils
Miraculous boy

Mahalia's Valentine's Book for Dezi

This book is about Dezi.

He is a cutey-Dezi-whoonit.

I had a dream that our whole family lost it's hair.

I like Dezi-booty but he is very small.

I call him all kinds of names from my brain.

Dezi is one nit-o-noodle.

A Trip to the ER

Being a baby is about being sick and growing stronger to survive in this dirty world. Desmond had his first trip to the ER. He'd vomited several times earlier in the week and then suffered cramps or stomach pains every 15 minutes or so for days on end. They gave him an IV, they drew his blood and gave him chest x-rays. I'm not sure who was more traumatized, Desmond or his parents. In the end, it turned out that Desmond had poo up to his neck. Two days and three enemas later, it appeared that his belly was a bit emptier.

He was better for a few days and then, having traveled for Christmas, threw everything out of whack and got socked with another cough and cold. Dr. Dad reassured me that it's all part of growing up. My bleary eyes and sore back are convinced that all this illness is actually an effort to kill me.

Sometime in my 20s I started thinking on day one of vacation about the last day of vacation and how quickly it would pass. I have to admit, though, that I'm ready for the schedule to kick in again. I'm ready for work and babysitter and school to start up and for time to resume per usual. In the midst of it all, Desmond is on a sleep strike and having been pushed to my limit , I've decided to let him cry in his crib. Bummer. Being a baby is not that easy after all.