Mama's Little Helper

So here's the kind of help I got decorating the tree. Little P began by scooting the box of Christmas decorations around. This is what happens when your child starts attempting to walk.

Then, an idea crossed his mind. Based on the expression on his face, what kind of idea do you think it might be?

If you guessed "climb on the box" or "a mischievious one" you are right!

This one is my favorite shot. Just look at the toes peeking out of his overalls!

And this. Do not miss the tongue extended in deep concentration.

If anyone wonders why it takes Mama so long to accomplish anything, I'd like to submit these photos as evidence.

A Boy's First Christmas Tree

What is this sparkly tree thing, anyhow?


Wise men follow the star...

Climbing

It's already begun, folks. The frenzied clambering over anything lumpy in his path, the interest in whatever is out of his reach, the exertion of independence and willpower. Lots to celebrate AFTER taking a deep breath in preparation for the next six months of Little P's inevitable development.

Today his momentous accomplishment was climbing an entire flight of stairs by himself.

[applause, please]

[ok, that's enough]

First of all, we live in a split-level house, so this amounted to seven steps. Still, I have never even helped him climb said stairs to practice. He just DID IT. Egads.

Then...he proceeded to find his sippy cup (out of which he drinks proficiently already) and drag it around on the jute rug in order to make designs with the milk that leaked out of it. I kid you not. I actually watched him, thinking, he is not really pounding the cup and rubbing it back on forth to intentionally get the liquid out. And then I saw him look at the nib, see nothing was there, and adjust how he was whacking it. When milk came out, he rubbed it in a long arc shape. Stinker.

He seemed to be on a rampage today. I'm not sure why, I took him to the Wild Animal Park for the afternoon with Shelley, her daughter Carissa, and THE TWINS. (God bless Shelley and her tired little heart.) He should have been grateful and not bored. But no - he found that he could scoot the footstool. So he heaved up, looked straight ahead, and ran, RAN, I tell you, across the room pushing it. He was breathing hard and all amped up which meant it was a good time to crawl back and forth over Mama's legs a few times, high-centering himself and then teetering over onto his head.

Soon after, he headed over to the file cabinet. I don't think he's even seen us open the file cabinet. And if he has, it certainly hasn't been often. He grabbed onto a metal drawer pull and leaned back, pulling with all his might. It's a good thing he hasn't seen that you have to move the little square part over as you pull. But now I know we must guard that information as classified if we have any hope of getting through the next few months without all our tax and insurance papers scattered aimlessly across the floor.

I don't know, folks. When experienced mamas say, "It won't be long now..." and shake their heads as parentheses form around their eyes (think Charlie Brown illustrations), heed the warning. Be worried. Or whatever. I really don't know what one can do except...brace yourself. And get ready for the ride.

Sleepyhead

Mama's been busy remodeling/redecorating the family room, hence the slowdown in the posts. It won't get any better until after Thanksgiving, I'm afraid, what with decorating for Christmas and all. That said, please accept this small token of cuteness to hold you over:

Tooth #5

I know. Once the boy started teething, it was all downhill. A landslide of teeth, I tell you. Here a tooth, there a tooth, everywhere a tooth tooth. He's all uneven again. Two prominent (and crooked) teeth on top, three on the bottom. To be fair, the third one is barely visible. Still. Everywhere a tooth tooth. Pictures forthcoming.

Da-da

I am happy to report that today, just once, Little P said "Da-da" to his Da-da. Papa shouted with joy and pumped his fist in the air. Momentous occasion, I guess.

The Great Debate

Papa has been trying to get Little P to say "Da-da" for some time. Little P is finally responding. Here's the conversation I overheard tonight:

Papa: Say "da-da."
Little P: Ma-ma.

Papa: Da-da.
Little P: Ma-ma.

Papa: Da-da.
Little P: Ma-ma.

Papa: Da-da.
Little P: Ma-ma.

There was, like, five minutes of this. Little P was resilient. Right now, Mama is (for better or for worse) the apple of his eye.

The Jailbreak Series: 10 month portraits

Personally, I think little striped outfits are impossibly cute, even if they look like pajamas to some people. Brent's take on little striped outfits, however, is that they look like prison wear. Like the chain gang. So, we will call this The Jailbreak Series, which is what Benjamin appears to be doing when he darts across the living room these days...as if some imaginary prison patrol with dogs is hot on his heels.

For some reason my auto settings failed me and many of the pictures turned out way too hot and pink to be left to their natural devices. I ended up needing "effects" to reduce some of the color problems. To that end, I present you with a few different styles today. I will group them accordingly.

THE ALMOST NATURAL SET

THE HAPPY GLOW SET

THE RETRO SET

THE BLACK & WHITES

Little P's Musical Hobby

Benjamin has proven quite the little drummer. We began last month playing around on the African drum that I brought back from the village in which I resided in Zimbabwe. It was actually made and used by one of my students' families. Although, half of my students were related (all cousins, you know) so I think what I mean here is immediate family. Edith's immediate family.

I told the kids I wanted a real drum, not a tourist drum. Later that day, Edith was knocking on the door of my hut, accompanied by Mildred and Portia (cousins, students, friends). She wanted to sell me this drum. I wanted to buy that drum. I did, for $100 Zim, which was about $7 US. I'm sure I overpaid as far as local standards go, but come on. Where else can you get something that authentic (carved out of a log and covered in goat skin) for $7?

But this post is not about my *sniff* Peace Corps experiences. It is about how much Benjamin loves to drum, and how perfect the size of that drum is for his short stature.


See how he stands up and his arms are in just the right spot? I am so proud to share, as well, that he has mastered the every-other-hand technique that I was taught in a single drumming class I went to while visiting Cape Town, South Africa. And I am so proud to share that I taught Little P everything he knows about drumming. *wipes a happy tear from her eye* (Notice his tiny rock star t-shirt - it has distressed/vintage/retro? electric guitars on it. Mama is trying to get hip with the times...)

So now he drums on just about everything: the coffee table, the overturned toy bin, the office chair, Mama P's leg. Just watch, next time you see him, for his every-other-hand technique.

This was just a cute shot of his face. Obviously he's not really interacting with the blurry drum here. This might have either been before he stood up to play, or after he lost his balance and fell backwards onto his rump. (Sidenote...he's gotten very good at sticking his rump out when he's heading backwards. I actually did not teach him how to fall painlessly. Maybe he's on his way to becoming a stunt man.)


You toucha my drum; I breaka you face. Unless you go by da name of Little P.

Please direct your attention to Exhibit A:

Do you have any idea how hard it was to get this shot? Little P does about everything these days except sit still...especially in awkward positions that would enable me to photograph a barely visible tooth.

Today's Lesson: Toilet Paper

Quiz: Custom Engraving

Question 1: Who chewed up Benjamin's bedrail?

a.) Benjamin

b.) Buckley (the dog)

c.) Papa P


The answer?
a.) Benjamin


Question 2: How long did it take him to produce this masterpiece of woodwork?

a.) a week

b.) a few days

c.) one morning


The answer?
c.) one morning