45 Weeks

Little Mister is 45 weeks old!

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Unfortunately, he’s also teething very badly right now, so he’s an unhappy 45 weeks old. This was the best picture I could get. He kept wanting to play with the closet door handle behind him. I remember many, many people telling me that the first teeth were the worst and all the others were small potatoes in comparison. They lied. They lied a lot. These teeth are awful. Just so awful.

Mitchell is learning about blocks this week. I read something about how great blocks were for development, so I got out his blocks and he’s been playing with them a lot. It’s amazing watching him learn. He’s been figuring out which blocks stack, then which blocks can go in the cups, and which cups nest together, etc. Seriously amazing watching him learn. Of course, the minute the camera comes out, he just wants to take selfies, so it’s hard to get on camera, but I tried.

Oh yeah. My kid already likes to take selfies. He’s figured out that immediately after the camera snaps, the image pops up on the camera, and he LOVES it. He sits there staring at the camera until it snaps, then wants to see the image right away and he just giggles looking at it. I’m really wondering, with all the digital cameras and phones and such, are we going to have a seriously narcissistic generation on our hands? They’re going to grow up with thousands of pictures taken of them of every mundane thing possible, so are pictures even going to be special to them? The thoughts that keep me entertained throughout the day…

He’s developing his facial expressions more, and it’s funny when I recognize them. He has a little half-smile smirk that’s just adorable. He wears it almost constantly. He also has a little “I did something wrong to get attention and I know it but you’re here so why don’t you just give me attention anyway” smile that probably comes DIRECTLY from his aunt Kelsey. The attitude behind it certainly does, anyway. He pulls it out quite often lately, too. It’s proven impossible to get on camera just yet, though, so I’ll just describe it: his usual smile is very wide-mouthed, but this smile is teeth bared, nose and eyes scrunched up. It also closely resembles his Aunt Teri’s trademarked Bitter Beer Face from when she was a baby (don’t worry, she wasn’t actually scrunching up from beer, it was an ad campaign from I think Coors that she just happened to copy).

I’m working on first birthday party plans. It’s time consuming because I can only work on it for a few minutes before I start having a panic attack at the thought of him turning a whole year old. Then I have to stop, go cradle him like a little baby until he gets mad (I can already hear it: “Gah, Mom, get off! I’m trying to play!”), look at some baby pictures, and then I can sometimes go back to work on it. But don’t worry, the party is going to be legen – wait for it – DARY. As legendary as a one year old’s party can be, anyway.

So many pictures! So many selfies! And showing how he helps Mommy vacuum. Every. Single. Time. He has to push the canister part around for me. Even if I want to go one way and he wants to go a different way. It’s best to let him lead, though, because otherwise he turns the vacuum off, like “Oh yeah? If we don’t do it my way, WE DON’T DO IT AT ALL.” Have I mentioned he’s opinionated? He isn’t a Taurus, but I think he may have inherited my stubbornness.

By themagnificentms

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