Fourteen Months Old

I'm feeling a little bit like the worst mom ever lately...I've been so preoccupied for the past month with THE MOVE that I haven't been able to devote as much attention to Asher as I normally do. Since Stephen hasn't done a whole lot with the move, most of the baby wrangling tasks have fallen on his shoulders. I've only given a couple of baths, read a handful of books, and played with toys a few times in the past few weeks. It has sucked! Not to mention, I've hardly posted at all on here, and the pictures I've taken of Asher have been very few and far between.

I really feel like I've missed out.

But, thankfully the unpacking and arranging is almost completed. It'll be so nice to be nestled in our home and able to spend the evenings however I wish again, and not feel pressed to be doing 50 things all at once. More than anything, it'll be nice to be able to devote full attention to the little guy who is growing so quickly I often find myself staring at him to try to stop him from changing so much. If a watched pot never boils, does a watched baby stop growing? Obviously not.

Asher has been, as always, quite the busy little bee. He's basically a full-time walker now, only occasionally crawling when he topples over, and will sometimes even try to run. He pretty much just ends up looking like Frankenstein, only much cuter and less scary. He's off of baby food and onto regular food, and fully into the hot and cold, finicky eater stage. One day, he can't shovel macaroni and cheese fast enough into his mouth. The next day? OH MY GOD IS IT VILE. Don't you dare put it on his highchair tray - if it's within ten feet, his arms start flailing and he begins to sound like you're sticking toothpicks under his toenails. I've talked to just about every single person I encounter who has ever had a child around his age, his doctor, and I've consulted the books, and from this I know it's completely normal. Does this stop me from freaking out and have panic attacks in the middle of the night about it? Of course not. I think it's the loss of control, I can no longer force him to eat, and it's giving me just the tiniest and teensiest taste of the lack of power over my child's life that I will eventually have. I DO NOT LIKE THIS ONE BIT.

Asher's current favorite thing to do is hiding things. I don't necessarily think he's really hiding things, but we call it that because he reminds us of someone hiding Easter eggs. It doesn't matter what it is - toys, megabloks, Mommy's lotions, Daddy's socks, food from the pantry - he is obsessed with picking it up and moving it to a new location, and then going back to it and moving it again. And again. Preferable locations include the inside of cabinets, boxes, drawers, the refrigerator, and trash cans. It's cute how much thought he puts into it, moving things from one spot to another, and it's a Godsend by keeping him entertained. These factors seem to outweigh our frustration from the constant disorganization and loss of stuff.

We're beginning to limit his buggy time a bit more by providing it to him only when he's cranky and at sleepy time. Mostly, I want him to be able to practice talking more with an empty mouth, because he's yet to say any REAL words, aside from mama, dada, and papa. He is mimicking us more; like when I say "banana" he might say "bashamafa" or when I say "diaper" he'll say something like "diediefa." It's like he gets the first syllable right, but after that he just wings it. It kind of reminds me of when we'd have to practice having conversations in French class. Once you get past "Hi, my name is, what's your name, where are the bathrooms?" it's all a lot of mumbo jumbo.

Now that he's becoming a big boy, we're finally doing what a lot of parents start doing at a much younger age - sleep training. About a month ago, we stopped rocking him before bedtime and started just putting him in his crib, but we'd stay hunched next to the crib for the hour it would take for him to fall asleep. Now that we're beyond crippled from the damage done to our backs, we're sucking it up and making him go to sleep behind closed doors, apart from us. Knock on wood, it's going really well so far. Last night, he only screamed bloody murder for about five minutes, and tonight, he screamed only for maybe thirty seconds. He's been sleeping much better through the night for the past month, too, which I think is due to us making him fall asleep on his own instead of us putting him to sleep. Of course the doctor has recommended we do this oh, since he was about four months old, but honestly we have enjoyed the cuddle time before bedtime. Unfortunately, he's just getting too big and too strong to wrestle on our laps comfortably, so we've had to let go and let him grow up a little.

As difficult as his tantrums and food strikes can be at times, I've got to say this age is super fun and I'm loving being the mommy of a toddler. He is a nonstop prankster. His laughter fills the house. He is learning to do the Itsy Bitsy Spider with me. He hobble-runs to me from across the room with the biggest, cheesiest grin on his face just to give me a hug. He gives the grossest, wettest, open-mouthed, full-tongue kisses, but they're the most wonderful kisses I've ever received. I'm looking so very forward to the upcoming months and all the new stuff he's going to learn. Of course, with learning comes a whole different level of parental exhaustion...but I'm up for it.