The Cheese

We survived Zephyr's first birthday party the Saturday after Thanksgiving. We had cupcakes and bubbly to ring in the occasion, to celebrate passing our first year as parents and for keeping him alive. There were about a million kids in our house, running laps like wild dingos, and yet I completely kept calm and nothing got broken. It was amazing (the me-keeping-calm part).



He has more tomato sauce on his face than cupcake, I almost feel sad about this. I should've wiped his face off before giving him his cupcake so I could get good photos. Oh, well.

Oh, man, new stuff:

He's repeating animal noises, like the high-pitched "whee-e-e!" of a horse (I try to make realistic animal sounds for him, and my "neigh" is right proper), the low "mooooo" of a cow (his is a guttural groan) and random sounds I've assigned to the insects on his favorite puzzle. Bees and flies are no-brainers, but I've decided the wings of a moth go "thfthfthfthf" and spiders go "bulubulu" when they crawl. He's also stringing together more syllables on his own, in response to us and to tell us his thoughts on various matters. We'll try to remember to nod and shake our heads more so he can communicate the basic "yes" and "no," and eventually "no" will become his favorite word.

And big one this week: he stands alone! He just sort of did it one day last week, then again for a few seconds longer, and now we'll just look up and notice that he's fully standing unassisted, playing with a puzzle piece or somesuch. The funny thing is, he doesn't seem to realize it's a big deal and doesn't look at us for a big "ta-da" or anything. He's just like "finally, I can use both hands for playtime. It's about time."

Independence is his main goal, now, as evidenced by his inability to hold still for a diaper change (we've taken to just changing him on the couch and turning on the TV) and his newfound tendency to throw his spoon and bowl onto the floor when we try to help him eat. We try not to get too mad about it, and instead just say, "that's not cool, Zephyr."

But we really just need to let him do his thing, let him know that we trust his abilities (new and shaky though they may be), and let him fuck up once in awhile. It's the best way for anyone to learn, and I know I'm not doing him any favors when I fix everything for him. It'll take some doing for me to learn how to step off and get out of his way, but I think every mother struggles with this. I know I will, probably forever.