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You are 16 months old.

Your favorite food is anything with peanut butter on it.

Your favorite toy (see photo above) is Mama’s least favorite because all it does is squawk out one of two songs when the button is pushed. Fortunately, Elmo gets tired and needs naps rather frequently.

You will eat banana from a spoon, but if we offer you chunks of it, you either squish it or ask for the peel so you can put it back.

You offer your bottle to Ned (your bedtime buddy) after every meal.

You make an “ah” noise after you take a drink of water. Almost every time.

You think Mama’s farts come from her shoes.

You have begun to say “hi” to other kids. When a shy, overtired preschooler ignored your greeting you followed him, hopefully saying “hi” over and over.

You like to scribble on paper, and you like to turn the paper over to scribble on the other side.

You like Mama to sing the songs on your music table. You indicate this by starting a song and turning to stare at her.

You are enraptured by ants and will throw yourself flat on the floor to watch and follow them.

You think running away when Mama says, “Please come here” is a very funny thing to do.

You squawk when refused something you want, such as for the dishwasher to be opened.

You fling your arms skyward and grab your head when asked, “How big is Baboo?”

You can reach the water dispenser on the fridge. And so we are thankful that we can lock it.

You’ve had another bad round of teething lately, waking up at night and skipping naps. You seem to be working on your upper canines now that your lower ones are in.

You have begun to ask for the same book to be read to you over and over. Lately you’ve been doing this with “The Snowy Day.”

You have begun to refuse certain books, most recently “Clap Your Hands,” which was your chosen “repeat” book a few days ago.

You now give Mama leg hugs.

You gave Daddy a kiss on Father’s Day when he asked for one.

You’ve had your first few trips to a playground and seem amazed and delighted by all the space. The first time, you spent about 10 minutes holding Mama’s finger and eating Cheerios, then you followed her when she got up to throw something away. And then you spotted the water fountain and headed straight for it.

You love to entertain us with silly sounds. There’s one thing you do with your lower lip that we didn’t teach you — and can’t figure out how to duplicate.

You are 16 months old, and you’re more fun every day.

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This stuff is super-gentle on sensitive baby skin, smells heavenly, and produces bubbles galore — and it works like a dream on overtired and cranky parents.

Or maybe that was the port.

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Many parents have said to me that the baby beginning to walk is a game changer. I see what they mean, but yesterday the baby expressed an intense interest in this:

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I would argue that this is much more of a game changer, if only in terms of the mental space I’ll need to dedicate to making sure the bathroom door is always closed and making sure the lid lock is on after every use. There’s already so much stuff taking up space in my head that cramming one more thing in there is a daunting thought.

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This morning, in order to distract Baboo from the sad fact that his beloved Daddy was going upstairs to shower, I asked him where Baby Boy was. (And yes, I know. We really should give this doll a name, but it’s just not very high on the priority list.)

The baby was still standing at the gate making unhappy noises, so I inquired again where the doll was. Then I asked if perhaps he needed a fresh diaper.

Well, that did it. Baboo went over and got the doll, and we checked his diaper together. Then we did and undid his shirt several times, or rather I did his shirt several times and Baboo undid it, because while he is very good at opening the little Velcro fastening, he’s not very good at closing it. And he loves to open it.

Baby Boy gave Baboo a few thank-you hugs, which he responded to by cocking his head to the side and giggling, shoulders up by his ears.

This, my friends. This is what I live for. This is my wheelhouse.

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A week ago, we hit the vaunted milestone of Baby’s First Ear Infection, and thus we have had our first experience with antibiotics. Things were going pretty well — he was sleeping better and he was eating less, but still eating — until Tuesday afternoon.

Baboo was struggling to go to sleep for his second nap, so I checked his diaper and found not only a number two but the nastiest diaper rash I’ve seen on him so far. I wouldn’t even call it a rash so much as the baby skin version of slash and burn. He shuddered with pain when I touched it even lightly, and he cried for a while after I was finished cleaning him up. And when I say he cried I mean he wailed like his heart was breaking. Which also means I was crying as I was cleaning him up, and apologizing the whole time.

I brought him downstairs for some distraction and called his doctor’s office to ask what might be done. The nurse, who was very sympathetic and helpful, was not surprised in the slightest. She gave me instructions on how to help him: use only wet washcloths to wipe him; daily baths with baking soda; probiotics; no fruit besides bananas and apples; as much yogurt, white bread and rice as he’ll eat; and my personal favorite, let him run round naked.

Her advice was reassuring, but her level of “of course” got me thinking: Why hadn’t the doctor, or the nurse, or the pharmacist, said anything about the likelihood of this medicine turning my baby’s poo into acid? Sure would have been nice. The only person who had warned me about this was my cousin, so I’d been on the alert and doing quick changes as soon as I detected poo, but the load that burned his bum was only in there for about 20 minutes.

Yes, having been on antibiotics I should perhaps have realized that what happened to me on them would likely happen to him, but I was strung out from a few days and nights of dealing with a very unhappy baby. That is to say, thinking logically was not in my wheelhouse. Getting his prescription filled ASAP and getting him home to bed were my prime directives.

So I suppose my aim here is twofold:

1. Medical professionals, please pass along information like this.

2. Parents, the first time you put your kid on antibiotics, make sure you pick up probiotics (my doc recommended Culturelle) at the pharmacy. And use lots and lots and lots of Desitin. And prepare to entertain your kid on the changing table while you let his nether regions air out. Might be a separate post about that soon…

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Another rainy day. A kvetchy baby. Bedtime. The one thing he cannot sleep without — a mobile that projects a light show on the ceiling — is malfunctioning.

My mother is helping me wrangle the baby on the changing table. The mobile is going on and off, on and off, randomly. I curse the cheap batteries we put in it and call for a fresh set. I take it down, change the batteries, put it back up.

Problem not solved. On and off, on and off. I start to panic. Handle him, I say, while I take this to The One Who Fixes Things. He reports no problem that he can see.

I start to mentally prepare myself to entertain the kvetchy baby while someone makes a Target run for a new mobile. Preferably the exact same one.

Then the One Who Fixes Things notices that the baby is holding this:

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It’s the remote for the mobile.

We gave it to the baby to keep him entertained while we changed him.

Hilarity ensued.

And then the baby slept.

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You are 14 months old.

You have eight teeth. One of them is a molar, and we did not enjoy nursing you through its eruption, which took for freakin’ ever. Naturally, its mate is now coming up on the other side of your lower jaw.

You are still uninterested in walking, though you often stand like a rock and will take a few steps now and then.

You like to look at books after your morning bottle. Your current favorites are “Runaway Bunny” and “Dear Zoo.” “Goodnight Moon” continues to hold your interest too — you’ve recently begun pointing at the little house and the young mouse.

You don’t know that you can get up from being flat on your back; you’ll just hold your arms out to be helped up and kick your legs, like a beetle that’s been flipped over. This is fine, because we still change your diaper on a changing table that’s four feet off the ground.

You have begun to say “ma,” meaning “more.” “No” still comes out as “nah” or “neh” or “nnnnneeeehhhhhhh.” Your other new words are “uh” and “moo,” a/k/a “up” and “moon.”

You hug other babies, your baby dolls, your Grammie, and your stuffed animals with joyful abandon. You hug us, too, mostly at the end of the day when you’re very tired.

You try to put Cheerios in your nose and eyes when you’re tired. You do this while smiling at us.

You make a kissing noise in imitation of Mama and Daddy, but you don’t try to kiss us yet.

You enjoy bath time thoroughly, though you increasingly try to stand up in the tub despite Mama explaining this is not a good idea and gently sitting your butt back down over and over.

You recently blew your Daddy’s mind when he asked where the red dragon was, and you promptly crossed the room to fetch it.

You can turn light switches on and off, and lunge for them whenever you see one. You cackle every time you flip the switch regardless of whether you can see the lights it controls.

You like to share Mama’s apples with her, and will wipe her face as you pass the apple back and forth.

You go after forbidden things with astonishing focus when you are tired.

You are becoming a much more adept imitator of gesture and speech.

You are now over 30 inches tall, but it’s hard to tell exactly how tall you are because you wiggle so much.

You can locate your eyes, ears, nose, mouth, fingers, toes and diaper. Sometimes you get a little confused when we ask where your mouth is.

You adore playing peek-a-boo with towels, large bowl lids, and whatever else is handy.

You are 14 months old, and you dazzle us every day.

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Every so often one of us will say we need to get this or that cute thing on video, but there are a lot of non-videoable things I want to remember. And no, I don’t care if non-videoable isn’t a word.

Here’s the list so far:

– The baby’s foot working against my leg as he takes his bottle.

– Milk breath.

– The sparky light in his eyes when he hears a new or interesting noise.

– The weight of his body against me when he’s completely relaxed — I don’t know how, but it weighs more than he weighs.

– The dainty ballet of his hand when he carefully picks something up or takes something from me.

– The smell of his neck.

– The thrilled, thrilling energy that pours out of him when he’s really excited.

– The rainbows that shoot out his butt during every diaper change.

Okay, kidding about that last one. But it still amazes me to see how perfect and beautiful his little body is.

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Oh, my people. There has been a LOT going on at our house lately. Hence the lack of posting… And hence the list format of this post.

So. Since I last posted, the following things have happened:

– Baboo took a few steps on Good Friday. We happened to be on Skype with my mother-in-law at the time, which made it even cooler. I totally burst into tears. He has not yet repeated this new trick — par for the course when he picks up a new skill.

– The baby learned how to climb onto his toy bin. He also learned how to fall off it.

– I’ve spent some time re-watching the previous season of Mad Men and getting stoked for this Sunday’s premiere. Yes, I’m one of those.

– We gave the baby the small Easter basket you see up there. He loves that talking orange egg. It says things like, “Yoo hoo, I’m hiding!” until you open it to reveal the blue bunny inside. Then it says, “Surprise, it’s me, Jojo!” whereupon he makes a very excited face. He had a good time taking the purple paper grass out of the basket, but seemed perturbed once it was spread around him. Could be he’s taking after his Virgo mama…

– I’m finally below my pre-pregnancy weight. Only by a pound, and only if I weigh myself in the morning, but it still counts, dammit!

– Baboo liked his first taste of chocolate but didn’t want much of it because of the hard shell around said chocolate. So I helped him out with the Cadbury mini eggs he rejected. Such a hardship, this motherhood thing.

– The baby now uses the sign for “more” for abstract things (not just Cheerios). This morning, he used it to say he wanted his Daddy to hold him again. Now I have to teach him more noun signs so he can say what he wants more of — because sometimes, we can’t figure it out.

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Recently a friend who was helping care for her toddler niece and colicky baby nephew asked me via text how moms have time to brush their hair or get a cup of coffee. I laughed and wrote back that those things happen when nice Aunties come to visit, but it did get me thinking about how my personal time management has changed since the baby.

Probably the most significant difference is how I use baby-free time. Specifically, there have been occasions when the following things were more important to me than showering:

– sleep

– food

– coffee

– writing

– a chat with an old friend

– cleaning (I’m a Virgo, remember?)

– a quick escape, i.e., a visit to my favorite websites

– quality time with my husband

– quality time with a heating pad

And yes, I do occasionally put the kiddo in the pack-n-play for five minutes while I shower. I know he’s safe in there, and I leave the door open so I can hear him and talk to him. But that also means I rush through the process, which takes a lot of the pleasure out of it. And yeah, I know, that sounds weird, but when you haven’t showered for a few days and you know the kid is going to be asleep for at least 45 minutes, there is a whole lot of joy to be found under a stream of hot water.

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