First Airplane Ride

We're home from North Carolina, where we were visiting cousins John, Abbie, and Carly. They moved a year ago and it took us this long to get down there, shame on us. So we finally got to see where they've been living this past year and hang out in their new territory. Dang, we miss those guys up here in New England. But they've made a nice little home in the South.

This trip was also a chance to get Desmond used to traveling. It's about a 2 hour plane ride to NC, so it's a nice quick trip to get us started, since we have some longer rides in our future. I had no idea how nervous I would be, even for this short get away. Visions of toddler tantrums in a tiny tin can airplane cabin ran through my head. Followed by the inevitable mommy meltdown, where I'd be pulling out my hair and raiding the drink cart for mini bottles of vodka.

I work with people who travel frequently. I hear some of them complain about kids on planes often. And I know I should be all "Eff 'em," but I'm not going to lie... I feared that we would be those people. The ones people would go home and tell their friends about.

"Oh my god, on the flight there was this kid who would NOT. SHUT. UP. Kicking the seat, crying, and the parents just let him do it! I mean, if you're going to take your kid on a plane, learn to control them, fer chrisakes."

Commence nail biting. And not sleeping. And pooping my brains out.

But seriously? I'm learning to just say it... Eff 'em.

Des had a few breakdowns, yes. On take off and landing mostly. The tell-tale grabbing of the ears told me the pressure was getting to him, poor kid. We did all the things they say are supposed to help... drinking out of a bottle (he doesn't take a bottle, so a sippy), sucking on a paci (he doesn't take a paci, so his thumb), eating lollipops (which he flat out rejected, who is this kid?). The only thing that seemed to help was chewing on snacks of Cheerios and dried fruit. But still. He screamed. And I silently apologized to all the passengers around us. And then I quickly stopped caring about anyone around us because my kid was in pain. And all we could do was try our best to help him.

So some people were inconvenienced in 3-5 minute increments a couple times on their flight. Amazing how much worry I put into it, and yet how easy it was to just GET OVER IT.

Oh, and then there was that time in the middle of the flight when he choked on a pretzel, freaked out, freaked US the hell out, and then vomited the contents of his stomach into my hands. So that was exciting!

But I have to say, when all was said and done, it went amazingly well. He was mostly in great spirits, slept for a good chunk, was kept entertained by the DVD player, and happy to sit in my lap. We could not have asked for anything better.




LOVING the aiport. "VROOM VROOM"... constantly. His lips must have been numb from all the vrooming.


Big mush.


Sleeping soundly after Aero-vomit-fest-2011. We were both a little spent.

More pics and updates on NC to come.

Milestones

Desmond has always been a bit on the slow side of average on the milestone charts, with everything except growth (he's a BIGGUN'). I'm not calling my kid slow, he's just... deliberate. There, that sounds nice. And we've been very patient, I think. Despite the constant reminders from Random Internet Mommies proudly regaling the world wide web that their child walked at 9 months! Spoke in phrases at 1 year! Got their masters right after Kindergarten! And that's awesome. Brag away. I would/have/will too. It's every mom's right.

Des will [insert milestone here] eventually, because he always does. Just on his own time. So even if we have to remind ourselves sometimes, we sit back and enjoy him as he is on this very day, without worry or concern or fear of judgment. We've learned how fast it all goes. (Holy hell, have we.) And we know what a gigantic, life-altering adjustment it can be moving from one step to another. Breast milk to formula, liquids to solids, rolling over, crawling, smiling, laughing, talking... I count it as my own little blessing that I have a few extra breaths to relish each stage.

But... There IS one big milestone we have been on the edge of our seats waiting for... His first steps.

He has been strongly standing on his own for weeks. We can stand him up in the middle of any room and he'll just hang out, standing there like a tree. If he feels the need to move, he'll lower himself down to crawl away. When standing, his feet are glued to the ground. The whole lifting a knee and stepping one foot in front of the other... Meh, not his thing.

Des turned 15 months old on Friday. Again, a bit on the late side for not walking yet, depending on who you ask. But hey, that's fine! Take your time, little man! Heck, if you can put it off until after our upcoming travels, all the better. These milestones are always super accommodating like that, right?

Well...

Yesterday, I was in the kitchen and Tony yelled from the living room, "He just took 3 steps!!"

Of course, I dropped whatever dish I was washing and ran the hell in there. And... nothing. He would not repeat the performance for mommy, no matter how much we prodded.

"I swear, I stood him up in front of me and he walked right into my arms!"

"I believe you, honey. It just FREAKIN FIGURES I wasn't here to see it."

But I'm not bitter.

Because today I stood him in front of me and 3 separate times, he walked to me. The screech of glee that came out of me was like nothing I've ever heard. Each time he did it, I'd grab him and squeeze him and go "GOOD JOB OH MY GOD YOU ARE SO AWESOME BAYBEEEE!!"

This voice was foreign to me. I was possessed by complete joy and I could not contain myself.

And tonight, it happened again, this walking thing:


And despite my subdued voice at the end of the video saying "Good enough, buddy," I assure you I am beaming inside with that same possessed joy as earlier.

Once the novelty wears off, the screeching may be more in panicked terror as he takes a nosedive off the deck. But I'm relishing in the moment now.

It was a big day, Desi boy. I'll remember today forever.

Desmond's First Year Slideshow

For your viewing pleasure, if you have a spare 9 minutes in your life:



Songs:
"First Day of My Life" - Bright Eyes
"Three Little Birds" - Bob Marley (orig), covered by Elizabeth Mitchell
"Glow" - Donavon Frankenreiter

I still can't watch it without crying. But I'm a sap like that. And ya know, it's my kid 'n all. My baaayybeee, I mean.

The best part of watching this with everyone at Desmond's party was cousin Katie pointing and yelling "DES!" at every. single. photo. That girl is a hoot.

Tony and I had so much fun making this. Enjoy!

First Haircut

It's been obvious for a while that Des needed a haircut. The bangs were past his eyes and the back was starting to cascade down the collar of his shirts in a very mullet-like fashion. It cannot be tamed, no matter how many passes with a comb I take at it. And unfortunately, the hairclip for little boys has not been invented yet. I'm putting a request in to the creators of the European shoulder bag to get on that.

I've been reluctant to cut it. As you know, I'm not usually sentimental. But I kept looking at his hair thinking, that's the same hair he had the day he was born. And when he was growing inside my belly we had no idea he'd come out with this full head of dark hair. Over time it gradually got lighter, as we figured it would (Tony's hair was white-blonde as a kid and mine has always been on the fair side). But it's still the same hair from my teeny tiny newborn baby boy.

It's not like I made a big fuss the first time we cut his fingernails, saving the little clippings in a baggy with the date on it. I promise you I did not do that. But hair, nails... they're technically the same thing, right?

So before his birthday, as visions of his mop-top covered in blue frosting danced in my head, we decided it was time to suck it up and take the plunge.

We originally planned to take him to one of those haircut places for kids, with the rocket ship chairs and TVs playing cartoons at every station. We even drove up one afternoon. I went in to ask what the wait was and it was like Dr. Seuss exploded in there. It was a 30 minute wait, with dozens of overstimulated kids running around, and I couldn't get out of there fast enough.

Instead we took him to a local barber that Tony went to as a kid. We pulled up and I was all excited that they had one of those red, white, and blue twirling barber poles. Ooh so kitsch, I love it! Walking in, the vibe was slightly... different.. than the other place. Let's just say that instead of Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck on the walls, there were other animals... heads of them.

"Hmm... this is a lovely room of death. Look Des, Bambi!"

Okay, so I would get past the carcasses. And the pro-hunting, anti-liberal bumper stickers everywhere I looked. And the oddly grandma-esque display of porcelain teacups badly in need of dusting. Where am I? Did I just enter some alternate universe? Maybe the deep south? But for some reason, it all worked. Tony grew up here, Des was totally at ease, and I felt like this was the right place for his first haircut. Whoa.. was I feeling alright? This really is another universe.

Some before shots of the do:

After a short wait in the room of death, they were ready for him. Des was in good spirits and I was hopeful that this would go well.


He was a little hestitant at first. But he stayed still and went with it.


Finding his happy place.


This is a face that says, "You guys are gonna sit there and let a stranger do this??"

Then he got a little fussy. Then a little more. Until he wanted none of it anymore.

And the barber brought out his secret weapon.


A toy jeep with a dead deer strapped to the front that played "Sweet Home Alabama." The deer lifted his little head and sang along with the chorus. I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried.

And by golly, it worked. He was totally entranced, and more importantly, still. So the man with the sharp scissors could do his job without any bloodshed.

It was my job to keep pushing the button after the song stopped.

A few snips here and there, and he was finished. Not his finest work, the barber admitted. But it did the trick. He looked like such a handsome little man!

And as is tradition for first timers at this fine establishment, Des got his photo taken reading a Playboy.


It's a bonding moment every mom dreams of sharing with her son.

All in all, it was a surprisingly fantastic experience. Nothing like I expected it to be. But I don't know how anyone could have predicted such a scenario.

First Injury

And it is very minor, thankfully!



See the blue stripe on Des's left cheek? Super bad ass, right? That's from a mean old toy block that jumped outta nowhere. From in his hand. As he was crawling down a step and did a face plant into it.

He cried for a minute and went back to playing with said toy and zipping all over the place.

This morning he crawled under the kitchen table, accidentally bumped his head on the cross-bar, and then bumped it a few more times intentionally. Like he was testing the strength of the wood. Or of his skull, either/or.

So I'm sure there will be many more of these incidents to come.


Fingers crossed they remain as minor as this one!

All Over the Place

People told us that once Des started crawling, overnight he would be all over the place. How true it is. Three days after he made his first forward movements, he was able to go from one side of the house to the other and back.

It's fascinating to watch. Maybe I'm setting him up for bad habits, but I've been letting him explore and try different things (short of eating garbage or touching a hot stove). He pulls books and DVDs off shelves, opens and closes cabinet doors, tears apart magazines, and chases the cats. It's a learning experience for me too... I have learned that we still have a lot more baby proofing to do.

These explorations are all fully supervised, of course. With camera at the ready.

The other day he made his way over to the entrance area, quite taken with the shoes over there.

Mama's brown boots. Cute!

Delicious too.

An old pair of flats.

He was not as keen on these, I guess.

Remind me not to include these photos in my application for Mother of the Year.

Crawling Update... Take 2

One day we'll gain the capability to take those new-fangled moving pictures from home. For now, scroll through quickly to see the action.

After trying to lure him with every toy he owned, it was a tape measure that finally did the trick. The boys of Choice Woodworking would be so proud.

Victory!

Crawling update

... Okay, we're not there yet.

I had hoped to post an entry with the title "We're on the move!" with all kinds of photos of Desmond progressing from one side of the room to the other.

Hey, no rush! All babies progress at their own pace. But ya know. People are starting to talk. They all ask "Is he crawling yet?" No. No, he's not. I get it. Des is 8 months old now, and looks quite a bit older. Tall and lean like his daddy. People see him and assume he's walking, nevermind crawling.

And I think his size is partly the reason for the delay (for lack of a better term). Those damn long limbs getting all tangled up in themselves.

So in lieu of crawling photos, here are some pivoting photos. He's got the pivot down.


Start position.


Quick like a cat!


Beautiful 180 degree turn. Form, grace, skill. He's got it all.


Ooh! Something shiny!


And eventually... back to the start.


Extra points for cuteness.

Don't listen to those people talking, baby. Take your time on the crawling. You're the best pivoter ever.