Baby Vampire

Perhaps you cannot see the teethmarks, but notice the redness!

Isaac bit me through my pant leg tonight, while I was trying to make his dinner.
It hurt! I wasn't happy.

Then he did it again, and tried to again, and then tried to bite my forearm when I picked him up and my neck when I carried him kicking to his highchair.

I know its unfair to be mad at a 14 1/2 month old, but he laughed when I said, "No!", "Stop!", "Goshdarnit this isn't funny!"
He looked so cute laughing. Arghh. I wasn't going to let him know I thought he looked cute.

Here is my list, in order of probability, of why Isaac became a small vampire tonight:

1. Teething, as my neighbor told me, "Girl!, His gums are itchin'!"
2. He was hungry and couldn't understand that the onions needed to carmelize before I could make the chopped liver. Yes, he eats, and loves chopped liver!
3. He felt ignored, I was paying more attention to the onions then to him.
4. He wanted to nurse.
5. He was tired: this is always a probable excuse.
6. He had a big day, doing lots of big boy things, and needed to express his ability to be a big boy and drive me nuts.
7. He is a baby vampire (in training)

Isaac, going off to do big boy things, before he bared his teeth.

Plane-spotter!

It wasn't actually this one, but it looked just like it!

Isaac spotted his first airplane today!

All of the elements were in place: he was in the mysteriously helpful for looking up baby-backpack, bright grey clouds wallpapered the sky, and there was a lovely little airplane, looking like a toy from so far away.

A big whoop, a chubby finger pointing and pointing, and then me, oohing and ahhing, telling his papa and our friend Bibi, "He spotted his first plane! He spotted his first plane! This is a very big deal!"

Then the plane flew away, we crossed the street, and now he is napping.
Life goes on even after something something momentous.

Isaac, Professional Mover (and Shaker)

"I got it!"

Today I found a walnut in the shell in Isaac's pants drawer.  He was standing in front of the drawer, anxious and fretting and looking in over and over again. There was also a big bumpy rock he had put in there, heavy enough to go under the mess of pants and out of his sight. He was very distressed, until I fished it out, then he was very happy.

Later I heard him in his room talking and talking and arguing and cajoling.  He was trying to put his grey karate style sweatpants on his head.

He carries around our yellow and black tape measure like he's planning on doing some measuring, and then takes both the benadryl and neosporin tubes out of the cupboard and into the bath.

After the bath, he has a tradition involving a very calming and lovely photo that my stepfather took of wooden chair and a daisy: I lift him out of the bath, wrap him in his striped towel, and then he reaches up and takes the photo off the wall for a while and considers it. I always worry he'll drop it into the tub of warm water but so far, thank goodness, he hasn't.

Like Daddy, Like Baby

Brown corduroy pants and black puffy coats are a style statement of cool, whether the man is 38 years or 1 year, as exemplified by this father-son combo.

Matchy-matchy!

This photo was taken after Isaac had walked off with a small cowboy stride, all the way to the chain-link fence, a whole two basketball courts away!

Tom Waits on Childrearing

Jeremy just sent me this quote from Tom Waits. He makes me feel much better after a day of feeling in the middle of a hurricane, inside.
And who knew Tom Waits thought about kids anyway!?

"Living with kids is like living with a bunch of drunks. You know you really have to be on your toes all the time. Things are falling over and breaking and spilling. If you live on the second story, you really have to keep the windows shut."

 just a wee glimpse of drunkard walking skills

I wonder when Isaac will appreciate Tom Waits?