However you choose to say his age, my baby is no longer technically a baby. He’s a toddler.
He’s been getting lots of calls from people wishing him happy birthday, and he LOVES talking on the phone with them.
He must know it’s his birthday, and he must have taken notes from the best birthday celebrators, because he’s definitely living it up today. He insists (even more than usual) on being the absolute center of attention. If he’s playing with the blocks, we’re ALL playing with the blocks, including the dogs. If he’s bouncing a ball, we’re also all expected to partake in this fun. I think the dogs are learning a new fear of blocks and balls, since Mitchell’s version of playing with them right now is just throwing them. If I’m doing something out of his reach, he wants picked up so he can see (which isn’t terribly unusual, he’s just more insistent today). For goodness sake, the kid can’t even be bothered to chew food today. All-liquid diet, please! But, as I’m sure anyone in my life would tell you, I can’t exactly point fingers when it comes to taking birthday fun to the extreme.
I’ve decided there are two types of parents: those who are super excited when their child turns one because they look forward to a little more independence and time to themselves, and those who feel a panic attack coming on just thinking about their child getting past the baby stage. I definitely fall into the latter category. I thought I was doing pretty well today. I’ve stayed pretty active (see previous paragraph). Then I decided to take down the bassinet. He hasn’t slept in it for probably two months. He spends the first part of his night in his bed, then [insert shame face] in bed with us for the second half. He crawls into the bassinet to play in the mornings, so I figured I could use the extra square footage more than he could. As soon as I started folding it up (it’s one of those Arm’s Reach ones, so it folds like a play pen), I started getting a little anxious. I worked through it, and was doing pretty well, until Mitchell came into the room and saw what I was doing. He started crying and trying to push the bassinet back up against the bed. I have no idea if he knew why he was doing it or even what he was doing, but it doesn’t matter. I didn’t cry, but I sure felt like it. My baby doesn’t WANT to grow up! I thought about leaving it up, but I stayed strong: it’s packed up and ready to be carted off to storage. Look at me, acknowledging my baby growing up. I bet Justin thought that bassinet would stay by our bed until Mitchell was 5! I showed him! Now I just have to work up the guts to kick Mitchell out of our bed…*sigh*
Believe it or not, I’m STILL unpacking from our weekend at the lake. Seriously. I really don’t think we took this much stuff to the lake. Compounding the issue is Mitchell’s enthusiasm at returning home. I didn’t know how thankful I should have been to have a child that doesn’t insist on pulling all his toys out. Ever since we got home, I swear he’s gone through the house going, “OMG I MISSED YOU!” and pulling every single toy he owns into the living room. Which, it turns out, is a lot. He may be spoiled. I didn’t realize how many toys I had just scattered throughout the house. But they sure add up when he insists on having them all within a few square feet. He is also still pushing everything around, so he even brings his tubs of toys in here.
Mitchell is pretty much exclusively walking now. He crawls every once in a while, but mostly when he’s trying to get somewhere quickly. So if you see him crawling, FOLLOW HIM because he’s about to get into something he knows he shouldn’t. A fun new thing: he’s been trying to get Kingsley to chase him. He runs up (okay, walks quickly), touches Kingsley, then side steps away, giggling the whole time. He’s totally trying to get him to follow him. When Kingsley doesn’t oblige, Mitchell does the second-best thing: he chases Kingsley, yelling the whole time. Kingsley isn’t a huge fan of this game.
This week he insisted on “helping” me get ready for his pictures. He kept wanting to put the pillows and blanket into the tub, then take them out. It was pretty adorable.
Oh, and just because it cracks me up, a picture of Mitchell’s new thing: yelling for attention. It might look like he’s crying, but I promise he isn’t. He’s just yelling for attention.