The Battle (One of Them, At Least)

I sometimes feel like we have no routine or schedule in place, but I've just realized we actually have a very strict routine, one to which we adhere almost too well: Parents clean, Baby messes; Parents clean, Baby messes; Parents clean, Baby messes. Get the point? Every evening either during Asher's nighttime snack or after he goes to bed, I pick up all the toys, arrange all the books in nice piles, stand up the knocked-over picture frames, put away all the food from the pantry he's moved to the coffee table...basically, I try to make it look like the Tazmanian Devil hasn't been kicking the house's ass all day long.

And then I come home from a long day at work and I do a double take and - WOW - I must really have been high the night before because I SWEAR I picked all this stuff up! I mean, same messes, same locations - it's eerie. Stephen took these pictures yesterday of the perpetrator in action.

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Let Me Completely Contradict Myself

Didn't I just make a post recently about my child being a brat? I have no idea what child I was thinking about, because mine is clearly the opposite of brat.

All of the tantrums and whining and fussing that Asher dished out over the past couple of weeks seems to have been replaced over the weekend with chattering, laughing, grins, funny faces, kisses, hugs, and hand-holding. I don't know what has happened, but I like it. I like it A LOT.

Today was a rough day - nothing major, just a long, tiresome Monday - but it's amazing how being greeted at the door when I came home from work by my child, with an ear-to-ear grin, who threw his arms around my legs and squealed in delight because I was home, just made it all better. All stress = GONE. It's so corny, but when Asher flashes me one of his smiles, my heart absolutely melts. Really - the kid makes my heart skip a beat when I just look at him.

I know the tantrums will be back all too soon. But I'm going to enjoy the sweetness while it lasts.

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Feed the Puppy

If you've spent any time around Asher lately during his meals or snacks, chances are good that you've experienced his fondness for feeding others (i.e., you've had food crammed in your mouth by his grubby, slobbery paws). It appears his generosity regarding his food is now expanding to include sharing it with inanimate objects:

And no, this is in no way an indication of the need for Asher to have a dog. MOTHER, I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE THINKING.

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Dark Clouds Looming Ahead

I'm afraid Asher may be entering a new phase in his life. The one in which he tries to murder his mother with no hands, no weapons, only his button-pressing skills that, if he masters it perfectly, could cause a horrible stroke or heart attack in an instant.

Yes, the terrible two's are upon us. And I am nowhere near prepared.

The tantrums are increasing on what seems to be almost a daily basis. It's not uncommon for me to turn a sippy cup right-side up or tear a bagel into two pieces and end up with a screaming toddler lying face down on the floor screaming. Brushing his teeth is a nightmare half the time. Heaven forbid I read a magazine while sitting on the floor next to the tub during his bathtime. Heaven forbid I fold laundry or run the vacuum or dust or BREATHE without first consulting Master Asher Barr. The most common trigger for his tantrums, however, seem to stem from his own frustrations - not being able to get the right shape into the sorter, not being able to get a door opened, not being able to get a bottle of bleach opened with his teeth...

This is an incredibly fun stage, don't get me wrong - the increase of vocabulary and comprehension and sense of humor and affection are all so wonderful and I can't even begin to imagine why when he was a little baby I was so sad about him getting older because I LOVE this kid he's turned into so much! But wow...I'm sure things are only going to get worse before they get better. It's bad when the grandparents - the doting, wrapped-around-his-finger-so-tightly grandparents - are noticing his change of behavior. My mother actually almost scolded him at dinner the other night, and Grandfather doesn't want to watch him this week because he has been such a fussy boy the past few times he's been down there.

I am praying this is just a phase. I hope to God my mother isn't getting her wish that I've born a child with my temperament.

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Dirty Hands

This little video was taken on Wednesday evening during one of my step-dad's park band concerts. Although we love going, trying to keep Asher corralled in the audience is a little daunting. Not to mention, last week we ran into an issue involving copious amounts of goose poop and Asher's clothing. We recently had the brilliant idea to go to the baby park during the performances and let Asher play while we listen. My favorite part about this video is how it illustrates Asher's conflicting personality - he's curious about the dirt and wants to get his hands on it, but he hates getting his hands dirty. He does this a lot during mealtime, too - he'll squish food in his hands, but as soon as he's made a mess all over himself, he'll become very upset. Asher is clearly a very complex individual, just like his mommy.

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Loverboy

Asher has been becoming quite affectionate lately. We noticed the other day that he's finally learned what hug means. He's known how to give kisses for a long time, but when we'd ask for a hug, he'd just give us a blank stare. Then one day out of the blue I asked for a hug, and he came over, climbed on my lap facing me, and laid his head on my shoulder. We keep asking him for hugs now and that's what we get - a little baby head on our shoulders. There may be no embrace, but it's sweet enough all on his own.

And the kisses - that's a thing he's been doing on demand - ask for a kiss, and he'll usually (but not always) lean in with his mouth gaping open and tongue hanging out. Tonight, though, during bathtime, he suddenly grabbed my shoulder and pulled me toward him, and kissed ME! Talk about melting my heart! Then he proceeded to kiss me and kiss me and kiss me and kiss me...I think I got a million wet, open-mouthed, sloppy baby kisses and it was WONDERFUL...until the eager kissing turned violent, that is. Soon, he started grabbing my head and forcing his kisses and I don't even think they were kisses, anymore...I'm pretty sure the kissing turned into badgering. The head grabbing was a little too pushy, in my opinion, but I tolerated it. The screaming in my face was kind of funny, so I let it slide. But when he chomped down and bit my puckered lips? I had to draw the line somewhere. Asher, trust me - tongue should be used only in moderation, and teeth are generally a total no-no. If you ever want to keep a girlfriend past the first kiss, you'll listen to your mama on this!

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Eighteen Months Old

Wow, it's been a busy month, and we're pooped! Asher spent nearly a week with Grandfather and Marmie at the beginning of the month when Stephen was working at Ball State for the week for HP, spending a couple of nights and the majority of his days wearing them out. Then, Jamie and Ella spent two weeks visiting, so we made two trips to The Children's Museum, one trip to the zoo, one trip to Chuck E. Cheese, and spent both weekends with them at Mom's. Asher had the BEST TIME EVER playing with his gorgeous older cousin, Ella. When she was around, I don't think he took his eyes off of her for two seconds. Park band started up this month, too, so we've had a couple of evenings spent listening to PaPa toot his horn. Last week was especially fun when Asher managed to get goose poop all over his shoes and pants and, of course, we didn't have a change of clothes for him with us. I change Asher's clothes if he gets food or grease on them, but goose poop? Nah, no biggie!

Asher is still Mr. Picky when it comes to food, but I think I'm finally starting to relax a little bit about it. I think. A little bit. This month he added pizza to his list of favorite foods, which made Daddy very happy. You know, because it's always good to share interests with your children. Asher has also developed a taste for coffee milk and grapes. Yes, grapes! I don't know how many times I would offer him grapes in the past and he'd turn his nose up at them. One day NeeNee sliced some up for him, and he couldn't gobble them down fast enough. I can't tell you how excited I get when he'll try something on his own, without me forcing it in or tricking him into it. It doesn't even matter if he doesn't like it - all I care about is the fact that he TRIED it. He's sprouted two more teeth this month, so he's up to eleven chompers now, and I know there are more coming soon at the rate he's been chewing on his hands. Maybe more teeth will equal more food variety, but I'm not getting my hopes up too high.

I am really excited about Asher's progress in communication. He's slowly beginning to talk; the words are few and far between, but they're there. I swear I heard him say truck over the weekend and I've heard him say kitty a few times. Tonight we were sitting on the deck coloring with markers and blowing bubbles and he kept pointing and saying bubbles. Of course, truck sounded more like gwuck, kitty was didday, and bubbles was buhballs, but close enough, I say! Grandfather has also taught Asher the signs for more and all done so he's able to tell us at dinner time when he's still hungry and when he wants to get the hell out of his highchair. Although, he often has more colorful ways of telling us when he's finished, ways that involve screeching like a banshee and trying to push all the food off of his tray...

It's funny how kids have their own little quirks that leave you in both amazement - because WOW he's this real little person! - and bewilderment - where the hell did he pick that up?! For instance, Asher has this obsession with knuckles and elbows. He gets some sort of comfort from jabbing the tip of his finger into my knuckle and then wiggling it around over the bone. He does the same thing with elbows, but knuckles, especially my knuckles, seem to be his favorite. When he's really tired or cranky, giving him his buggy and my knuckles to mutilate is often the only way to calm him down. And when does he demand knuckles the most? In the car, of course! I guess he's a perfect little driving companion when I'm not present, but when I'm in the car, he wants KNUCKLES and he wants them NOW. So, here I sit in the passenger seat, contorted far beyond my comfort level, so Asher can hold my hand and crush my knuckles. I don't get it. What's wrong with your teddy bear from Sloan, Asher? Or that nice little fluffy blankie that Uncle Adam gave you? Or even your little green Brobee from Santa? Nope. The kid has a million stuffed animals of all shapes, sizes, and textures, and quite a few nice blankets that I've often caught myself running my hands over, and he wants nothing to do with them. He wants KNUCKLES.

We've noticed that he's been a bit grumpier lately. We figure it could be because we've been doing so much more running around than normal that he's just tired and off his schedule, or it could be because he's been busy teething and his little gums hurt. We refuse to look at the possibility of him entering the terrible two's, because that isn't even possible. I mean, there is NO WAY my sweet little boy is going to turn into a monster, right? RIGHT?!

Here are his pictures from June. There are a lot!

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