One
One is when you’re considered old enough to stay home and babysit grandma while the rest of your family goes to New York for spring break. Forget toys – the gift of abandonment is what babies are really looking for.
The only gift babies love more than the gift of abandonment is the gift of sugar. He spent his birthday two fisting a donut and, unlike his brother, was immediately into his cake at his “party” a few days later. He was also immediately enraged that it was an ice cream cake and therefore too slippery to pick up with his hands, but forgave me this oversight when I fork fed him.
We have officially put this child through the White House One Year Old Rites of Passage: the park swing and the top of the refrigerator. I’d explain how these rites of passage came to be, but at this point they’re so steeped in tradition no one really knows.
On the development front, he just started dragging himself around Lieutenant Dan style, but since he’s still not crawling or walking, we have a date with First Steps to see if he qualifies for baby PT. If there aren’t baby ankle weights, I will be writing a very strongly worded letter.
In a move that was perfected as either a convenience for me or (more likely) self-preservation for him, he now holds his own bottle. When he’s done, he’ll hand it to you in a “take this please” manner which is both adorable and much preferred to how he handles the food he’s done with and/or doesn’t want, which is to immediately throw it on the floor. He also does this with toys which is how we’ve found ourselves with bruises and accusations of elder abuse.
He’s graduated to stroller rides without the pumpkin seat and absolutely loves outside. If only we could get Mother Nature to cooperate so he can live his feral baby dreams.
Soybeans, Too 