Oh, yeah...

Last night there was a bicycle race in Whitefish Bay (our future crib, yo) and we took Peter to go see the excitement. He had seen one last year - the Downer Avenue race when he was about 2 1/2 months old (he loved it, I swear) - so this was nothing new for him. We thought the race was going to start at 5:00, but the pros didn't get going until 6:15, and in that time the we were waiting Peter got pumped up to play with the other kids who were also waiting for the race. He ran up and down the boulevard we were sitting on, either going for a run on his own or chasing the bigger kids. I don't know if it was by design or just luck, but his chasing only caught one prey, little Henry Clark, and he got him repeatedly. Henry wasn't thrilled having a 14 month old trying to tackle him so I'd have to pick Peter up and bring him back to base camp. But he'd waste no time in running back into the action. This had an effect on him physically, and one could easily see his mind trying to push him places his feet couldn't take him. At one point he fell in front of one of the moms of the neighborhood, and in getting up he grabbed a handfull of grass and tossed it joyously in the air - only to have most of it land on the mom. I told her he was just practicing his lawn maintenance then ran after the very tanned streak as he shot off towards Henry again.

Eventually his legs told a story that his mouth refused to recount, and I dragged him back to our seating area and strapped him into his stroller. I felt his head and it was hotter than the blacktop that had been sitting out in the sun all afternoon. He then whined and pointed at his juice box, and chugged just about everything in it before accidentally squirting out the rest into his face. It made him a little sticky, but I'm sure it cooled him off.

By the time the race started Peter was cooled off but his butt was dragging. He wanted to play, but, as noted in Blade Runner, the light that burns twice as bright burns half as long, and Peter's light was blinding that evening. We left after about 5 laps of a 70-something lap race and I strapped Peter into his car seat. He shrieked and cried like it was the worst thing in the world, but he was asleep in the car by the time we hit the highway. He slept pretty well that night, but none of us were too keen on getting up in the morning.

The value of language

Peter is developing nicely, but I find myself swinging between the poles of wishing he could speak words (clearly, at least) and hoping he stays just the way he is. Just this evening I, for lack of a better way of saying it, nagged him that he needs to use words in order to better define his pointing and whining. Then later this evening he strutted around squealing, and I found myself loving the pure juvenile joy of the noise. He will start speaking fully formed English sentences to me, and I will greatly appreciate the coherence of the message. But will it be the same?

Pictures, pictures, pictures

Pictures, pictures, pictures

Pictures, pictures, pictures

Pictures, pictures, pictures

Look! Marmosets!

Last night we went to the zoo with our friends John and Crystal and their 9 month old son, Braiden. It was a perfect evening weather-wise and the mosquitoes weren’t too bad. Peter didn’t have much of a nap during the afternoon and by the time we got to the zoo he had just fallen asleep in the car, only to be transferred to the stroller. He was in a fog for a while, but one we sat down for a picnic dinner he started perking up. It helped that there was a band playing and he instinctively was wiggling along to the music in his seat.

 

Peter got to see elephants, giraffes, lionsandtigersandbearsohmy, penguins, flamingos, and a bunch of fish and lizards. As opposed to his trip to the zoo when he was 2 months old, this time he really got into it. He would point at the animals and point to his palm in the “more” sign (which has become his default communication, meaning, in addition to “more,” “I want,” “make this thing work” and, when done forcefully and quickly, “hurry up, already”). We took the 2 boys to the big cat building and the tigers and lions were actually awake for a change. We had Peter and Braiden standing next to each other next to the lion cage, leaning up against the glass, and Peter would gently pat Braiden on the arm and then giggle excitedly. When Peter is with his cousins he’s the little guy in the group, but with Braiden he’s the big kid and he plays the part well.

 

One of the benefits of the trip was that Peter was pretty much wiped out by it and slept the whole night through (as did his parents). Sweet.

A Midsummer Day's Report

We’ve been pretty busy this summer, so I haven’t been able to post much lately. That said, we’re still busy, and I don’t have a lot of time at the moment to write a Russian novel-length post, so I have to be quick.

 

Do you know what it’s like to visit houses for sale with a toddler who is pumped up and ready to go? It’s isn’t easy…

 

Peter is getting big. Not chunky, far from it. But he’s tall and strong. He’s also got his evasive moves down for when he wants to get away from being held. There’s “The Swim,” “The Twist,” “The Buck,” and “The Squirm.” A strong, lithe toddler employing any one of those moves is difficult to control, but when he throws them at you in combos he usually gets what he wants pretty quickly.

 

He learned how to turn the cable power on and off, along with changing channels and volume on the TV. I had to move the cable box to the top of the TV so he doesn’t ruin our watching the vast nothingness of cable. When he first figured out he could turn off the cable box he’d put his finger next to the button and wait for us to tell him not to do it. Then he’d push the button and stick out his jaw and squint while stomping away with a diabolical laugh. He used to be so nice…

 

Peter now will mimic hair washing. He will sit on our bed and play with a lotion bottle by touching the top of it, then raising his hands to his hair and rubbing his fingers through his hair. Obviously he can read directions, because he’ll rinse and repeat it several times.

 

He has also been working on whining. His shrieking is down, but he’s replaced it with a more persistent whine whenever he’s of the mind to do so. Usually it’s while in the car. I’m able to distract him by opening and closing the sunroof, but every time I do it lessens the effect of the following time I do it, so he’s developing a resistance to it. Once that’s of no use I’ll have to figure out some other method of entertaining him. Perhaps we could hire a jester for car rides.

 

He’s still dancing a lot. He’s getting kind of ethnic on us, too, as he’s gone a little Fiddler on the Roof-y by raising his arms up in the air and stepping around like a peasant milkman in Russia. But then he starts shaking his butt around, which I don’t remember Tevye doing.

 

And if you want to have tons of fun with him, he loves to fall back while sitting up on the bed. Especially if you do it at the same time with him. Sit up, fall back. Sit up, fall back. Laugh, laugh, laugh. Life should be so entertaining when you’re in your thirties and beyond.

Calendar Note

It’s the 3rd day of the month, which means Peter is a month older. Today sees him turning 14 months old, and the difference between Peter at 13 months and Peter at 14 months is actually pretty significant. He has pretty much mastered walking, and is even running some now when he’s outside. We think he may have gone through another growth spurt, as he seems noticeably taller. He’s also developing new behaviors, like tapping his fingers when he has to wait for something, or taking advantage of his parents’ bared midsections by blowing raspberries on them. He’s no baby anymore, and calling him a toddler is selling him short. He’s a full-blown little boy now.