Two Steps Forward, One Step Back.

My mama friends on Facebook will probably meet this post with a rolling of the eyes. I just recently hashed out this very issue in my status update over the course of several days. Following my whining, their loving comments, my venting, their loving comments, I came to a realization...my little boy is growing up.

Noah is 3.25 and over the last few weeks, we have been trialing a program at the Y that requires I sit outside while he participates inside. While 3 seems to be the magic age for this, it's a first for us. All of the programs that we have ever attended have been together, so I was tentative at first but was willing to give it a try if Noah was. On the first day he joined without much urging, but came running out half way through in tears and has done so every time until last week when he flat out refused to go. He gave it a try--a real effort in my book--and while I won't go into the ins and outs of why I agree with him I will say that I believe it is very telling of our current growing pain.

Over the last few weeks he's kept closer, cuddled more and slept lighter. He's cried when I didn't expect it and has asked for me when he previously would not have. I was growing worried, filled with concern and frustration and considering "solutions" and "fixes". And, then it dawned on me--he was in doubt. And so was I. I was doubting his ability to determine his own readiness. I was choosing for him and pushing, gently pushing but pushing nonetheless, when he wasn't ready.

This new world with all of its "without mom possibilities" has only just recently begun computing in his little processor. And I have noticed that our Y experience, casual conversations about possible Jr. Kindergarten (Canada's Pre-K) enrollment this fall and my own attempts at urging autonomous play at home have triggered a pulling in rather than a moving out and away. After watching a pee-wee karate demonstration in awe this past weekend, he quickly turned to me without provocation and refused to ever take a karate class (by himself)--then it was swimming class, a yoga class and music class. Noah has always been eager to jump into social situations--excited to connect with playmates for engagement and group fun. But it's now clear that the idea of all of this without mom nearby is foreign and, therefore, scary leaving him feeling unsure and insecure. My perceptions of where he should be now that he's 3 have been clouding my observation and honoring of where he is at developmentally. As a result, I have not been unconditionally offering him what he has been needing the most as he navigates this very unsteady new territory--more, not less, of me and time.

With the addition of a little sister, more responsibilities and expectations have been tucked into his pocket. He's asked for some but others have been hashed out by us, perhaps, too prematurely. We expect that with a certain age, readiness for moving forward and stepping ahead magically appears. But as with all things readiness, too, comes best in its own time, in its own way, and at its own pace. As such, I have decided that my best and only role in all of this is not to fix or solve anything--nothing is broken--it's simply to be mom. Therefore, beginning tomorrow, I'll meet his caution with patience, his fear with reassurance, his tears with empathy and glimpses of bravery with encouragement and by doing so, hopefully, foster the courage to take the next step in his own time, in his own way, and at his own pace. 

The Montessori Floor Bed: Connecting Space, Sleep, Play + Development.

While Dean and I have most often subscribed to Waldorf and RIE parenting philosophies over the last few years, many Montessori principles have occasionally intersected. When I was pregnant with Noah, I came across a Montessori article suggesting the use of floor beds in lieu of cribs. While it sounded appealing and in-line with the kind of natural child-rearing methods that we were in interested in practicing, there was something all too alluring and well-ingrained about a crib-clad nursery. So, when my grandmother offered to buy one for Noah, I eagerly agreed.

But, there it stood. Alone. Empty. Noah didn't do much sleeping for two long years. It wasn't until shortly after he self-weaned just before his second birthday that he finally began banking some real quality shut-eye. Thus, the crib was really never used. We co-slept until Fern was born this past May when he eagerly self-weaned, again, into his very own toddler bed. And, co-sleeping for my husband and I (besides the no-sleeping part) was wonderfully enjoyable, so we never considered any other sleeping arrangement when our little Fern came along--she would be our new bed-buddy until she decided otherwise, too.

But, Fern has been a different baby and I cannot emphasize the different part enough. Fern sleeps. She sleeps naturally, peacefully, without any voodoo, tricks, or trying. She has slept that way since the day she was born and just last week she slept, entirely of her own volition, until the wee hours of the morning with no nursing wake-ups at all. For us, this is HUGE. After a few nights of this slumber-fest, Dean and I began to wonder if moving her from our bed and into a space of her own might mean really restful deep sleep for the whole entire family--after a  v e r y  l o n g  three year hiatus. And, then I remembered the article that I had read so long ago (excerpt from The Joyful Child, Montessori from Birth to Three):

"Every child follows a unique timetable of learning to crawl to those things he has been looking at, so that he may finally handle them. This visual, followed by tactile, exploration is very important for many aspects of human development. If we provide a floor bed or mattress on the floor in a completely safe room—rather than a crib or playpen with bars—the child has a clear view of the surroundings and freedom to explore.

A bed should be one which the baby can get in and out of on his own as soon as he is ready to crawl. The first choice is an adult twin bed mattress on the floor. Besides being an aid to development, this arrangement does a lot to prevent the common problem of crying because of boredom or exhaustion.

It helps to think of this as a whole-room playpen with a baby gate at the doorway and to examine every nook and cranny for interest and safety. If the newborn is going to share a room with parents or siblings we can still provide a large, safe, and interesting environment.

Eventually he will explore the whole room with a gate at the door and then gradually move out into the baby-proofed and baby-interesting remainder of the house.

These are the beginning stages of independence, concentration, movement, self-esteem, decision-making, and balanced, healthful development of body, mind, and spirit."

It couldn't have been better timing, because just this past weekend Fern began to crawl. So, out went the (unused) crib and down went the mattress, onto the floor. Last night was the second night of experimentation and both nights have been the most truly restful in recent memory. But, even more important than continued sleep success, I am moved by how something as simple as this has inspired me to envision the connection of space, sleep and play in a way that fosters independence, confidence and the true freedom to explore, imagine and learn. Because sleep had always been such an "issue" for Noah and us by default, the ability to fathom this kind of autonomous sleep/play environment always seemed beyond all of our abilities to imagine--his, as a sleepless infant and us, as his bewildered and super-exhausted parents. But, after only 9 months of co-sleeping, our little Fern was apparently ready and we recognized the signs.

When Dean and I awoke this morning to the sound of Noah and Fern playing together in their room just across the hall from ours, I nearly cried. Fern had woken, crawled from her bed, chosen a toy, and began to play alongside her brother. Just this afternoon, I peeked into the room to observe her in her new space alone--with eyes still sleepy from a long morning nap, she cooed as she lay gazing at the mobile above and rolling from side-to-side. A few moments later she crawled off of the bed and over to a basket of toys nearby and began playing.

It's bittersweet really, as all transitions in parenthood are. I thought that I would have her tiny soft body snuggled right beside mine much longer...the soft whispers of her deep sleeping breaths and her warm nose nuzzled close as she suckled at my breast. Last night as Dean and I crawled into our cold, empty, childless bed, I asked him if he thought we made the right decision and if he missed her as much as I did. Yes, and yes, he said.

It could all change at any time, I realize. Sleep, with kids, is elusive and something that is in constant flux. Noah still occasions our bed and I am sure Fern will too--and they are both welcome, anytime, always. But, nevertheless, I have spent the last day or so preparing the kid's room for the change--creating a low shelf with just a few simple objects that I will rotate weekly and ensuring that the space is inspiring, as well as, safe for independent unassisted exploration. There are still so many things that I need/want to add to Fernie's sleep nook--a mirror next to the bed, a homemade felt story board on the empty wall above the toys on the floor, framed pictures--but it's a start.

Five Months Of Fern.

Over the last almost three years, this blog has become a sort of memory keeper for me. As crafty as I like to be, I haven't put together the first baby book for either Noah or Fern, so mama:milieu--which I originally began in response to my mother's whining about living so far away from her unborn grandchildren back when I was pregnant with Noah--has become the best go-to I've got for both the big and not so big moments of these most precious early years.

As such, I am going to be sure not to let little Fernie's fifth month pass without a milestone mention. Last week, she turned five months old. And, it was in that same week that she mastered the toe hold and suck, began enthusiastically vocalizing "b" sounds and rolled onto her tummy for the very first time.

Happy fifth month, my little Fern Adele!

His Royal Highness.

Who would have ever thought that "throning" the the king of challenges would ever have been so easy? I didn't. Noah Finn has been a beautiful blessing in so many ways--but there are bear essential aspects of rearing him that have not always been. Sleeping--oh my god, sleep--for example--as any of my earlier followers know--has never come easy for my fellow of the nursing night. He never slept through a single moondance until 21 months old, for example. So then, it was only natural for me to prepare for the worst when it came to potty training and weaning from the breast.

Though he's currently in the throws of the "temperamental two's", having just turned two in late December--tears, tantrums, testing and all--he potty trained himself at 18 months and very voluntarily and gently weaned at 21 months.

We're not all in the diaper clear for nap and bedtimes--perhaps if we hadn't moved or had the incredibly topsy turvy prior five months to contend beforehand with we could have supported that effort a little more. But nevertheless, we're 100% diaper-free during the day.

It's amazing, simply amazing what those little racing minds and bodies can master all on their very own. Sometimes even better so without our meddling or hampering their attempts.

Now, as far as how learning to read the toy catalog while working out yesterday's dinner came about . . . I am sure Daddy had nothing to do with that.

Sea Change.

A sea change indeed, my faithful friends and followers. The absence has been long and hard and rocky and winding and wily and well, really, really l o n g. It seems that I had hopes of returning with a post and many pictures sometime in late August or early September with recollections of our beach vacation in Emerald Isle, North Carolina, where we frolicked seaside with family and friends. But now, at this time in late October, those warm summer memories seem just that--distant tales of long ago. Since then, our seas have been a'changin.

I try to keep my blog as drama free as possible--I rather spare the minute details of non-baby drama to avoid seeming petty or even boring. But this tale will be told in a shortened yet still somewhat full version, if nothing else than to explain why I have been gone so darn long.

It all began days before we were set to leave for our three week vacation visiting friends and family on the east coast this past August--the first week on the same little island where we were married (our families vacation there together every summer) and the remaining two weeks jumping back and forth between grandparents' houses.

The Sunday before the Thursday we were to set sail, we received an abrupt and very unexpected 30 day notice from the landowner of Milagro Ranch to vacate our home. I will spare these details because I may break into a rant that never fizzles--but long story short...her separation from her husband forced her to sell, she couldn't find a buyer so she leased to people who wanted her out a.s.a.p. This all meant that she needed to find a place for her and her daughter to live until they found another home--and it seems that our cozy little guest house that we had just so stupidly sunk way too much money, time and labor into seemed like just the place.

Dean returned to Malibu from the vacation early to pack and move us into storage while Noah and I remained behind in North Carolina to stay with family while all of the details worked themselves out. In the meantime, Dean stayed with friends in Malibu and went back to work.

Now backtrack a little to before we left for vacation...around the same time we received the e-mail from the landowner, we received an e-mail from the recording school that Dean attended in London, Ontario more than 10 years ago. It was inquiring whether he knew of anyone possibly interested in taking a teaching position that had recently become available at the school. E-mails about salary, benefits, immigration, etc. bounced back and forth for weeks while the job opportunity became more and more of an appealing option for us.

Over the phone, from North Carolina to Los Angeles, Dean and I schemed and plotted and planned. What if? Dean officially expressed interest and after a phone interview with the school's Directors went incredibly well, we decided to accept their offer to fly the whole family to London for 10 days worth of Canadian fun--further interviews, guest lectures, meetings, negotiations, sight seeing, house hunting, and more. So, after spending all of September on separate coasts, Noah and I met Dean in Canada on October 1st.

Now backtrack a little again...to when Dean was living with friends in Malibu and working while Noah and I were grandparent house hopping for all of September. Just days before flying to meet Dean in Canada, a little dip stick in a Durham, North Carolina Target bathroom revealed that we were pregnant--again!

So here we were--exhausted, homeless and nauseously pregnant--in London, Ontario wondering if leaving a job with Beck in Malibu to teach in the snowy neighbor to the north was really what the Dr. ordered. The 10 days passed like a whirlwind as we met people, saw places and determined if this was to be the next stop on our map.

The town was just okay; the people were super. What really sold us was all of the quality of life bonuses. At the end of our stay, we took the job.

Let me explain why. Dean has worked 12 hours a day 6-7 days a week for 10 years--that's right a decade--with a week, or maybe two, or this year the most ever maybe three weeks, of vacation hidden somewhere there in between. Before Noah it was hard, since Noah it is impossibly exhausting and plain and simply an unacceptable pace to keep with a growing family. Sure he's worked with and for the best of the best in the music industry, and the money is okay--but it's just that, okay. It's not living well in Los Angeles, or Malibu for that matter, on one salary, well. It's not, own a house, travel several times a year, send your kid to private school because the public ones are not an option, hire a nanny because Dad is never home and a second kid is coming kind of well.

This new job? The salary is great, the bonuses are even better...but the hours, they are still hard to swallow. Dad will be home for dinner for the first time in a decade--every night. Dean will work 9:00-5:00--WAIT--what's THAT?! Add on to that: 5 weeks of paid vacation, incredible public and private healthcare coverage with no out-of-our-pocket cost (I have already spoken with the midwife who will deliver our next baby at home in the water), affordable housing and coverage of all relocation and immigration/visa costs. How could we say no?!

After we signed on the dotted line, we returned to Los Angeles on October 10th homeless while we wait for immigration to clear and Dean to finish pending projects with Beck. We stayed with friends in Malibu for one week and are now staying with yet more friends (three families in one house--that's another post all together) in Pasadena...we just call it our cozy little commune. We will remain here until November the 13th when we will then move yet again back to our old neighborhood in Los Angeles with yet more friends. We will be house-sitting while they are in Japan.

If all goes well with immigration--and we should know by mid-November--we will move to London, Onatrio, Canada on December 1st. We are currently looking for a place to call home there for when we, and our stuff, arrives.

In the meantime it's a crazy, whirly twirly topsy turvy kind of purgatory that we are existing in. I am still absorbing it--especially the part about moving to a really cold place. There will be snow there when we arrive--lots and lots of it. How will a Los Angeles loving family from Southern California with no winter clothes and another baby on the way ever cope? That story has yet to be written.

Noah's Fins.

We began swim lessons this month and this video documents the 4th class of the series thoughtfully filmed by our friends, Bianca and Bryce--proud parents of little Oona Fish--at Mama Kim's pool.

Noah was chosen as the underwater demonstrator for the first class and though he had never gone under water, except for the occasional accidental tub head dunk, he did exceptionally well. Now that he knows what's coming, however, he doesn't cry as much as he "fusses" or "protests" beforehand. The kiddo crying "mommy" in the background is Oona, not Noah--though Noey has been know to occasionally whine a little "I don't want to" of his own from time-to-time.

Nevertheless, he is quite a little fishy at 18 months and we can't wait to see what a few more lessons do for his apparent naturally fantastic fins.

Viva la summer!

Noah Finn: 17.5 Months.

I've been rotten at being a blogging, ranching mama. I admit it, I've been absent--I haven't been around, I have to be honest. Keeping up with all of the changes (and struggles--oh, that post is going to be a long one) that living in the middle of nowhere in Malibu have brought along with struggling to maintain the momentum that Feeding Little Foodies had been gaining prior to the move has kept me whirling from sunrise to sunset. And, wait, I didn't even add my toddling toddler into this to-do list equation.

Nevertheless, I am aiming to regain my prior posting glory once more and have faith that it isn't too far off into the future.

In the meantime, I am going to make a list that I have been meaning to sit down and put together for a very long time now. So that 5, 10, 20 years from now, I can look back on this gloriously busy time and remember all of those beautiful little things that I am sure to forget otherwise. The thing is that this list has been changing in my head as time passes with it unwritten--it changes as I strive to keep up with a very quickly growing little boy.

Documenting Noah Finn at 17.5 months:

• He learned how to kiss with a pucker and sound effects two days ago--and he smooches us on the cheek every chance he gets
• Everything is "Daddy"--from the little Hispanic boy in his book to the sand sifter on the beach, it's all just "Daddy"
• Favorite words that come to mind: bottle, Miles, bye, hi, go, bubble, ball, shoes, magnet, mommy, daddy, vroom, mole, more, beach, bees, cherry, book, shhhhh, boo boo, poo poo, pee pee, dog, cheese, teeth, three
  
• He loves splashing, screaming, running and laughing in the surf with Dean
• His favorite foods are fresh mango, dried blueberries and nori
• He dislikes milk but he will drink it if he has to
  
• He isn't crazy about cookies or other sweets
• He loves saying bubble and pointing to the bubble bottle but is less than enthusiastic at the act of blowing them or watching someone else do so
• He is absolutely o b s e s s e d with beer bottles--full or empty
• He loves to throw things in the trash can (if it has a lid on it, even better)--especially rocks
• He loves to hold one stem of wildflowers (or rocks) in each hand for a very long time
• He doesn't care too much for swinging, but loves to slide and teeter totter
  
• He likes to give others raspberries (bellies or backs are preferred targets)
• Jumping on the bed naked after bath time is by far his favorite time of the day
• His favorite color is red
• He collects rocks (to later throw away, perhaps?)
• His favorite toy is Henry's plastic sand shovel
• He breaks out in spontaneous singing bursts of e-i-e-i-o all. day. long.
  

Milestones Are Expensive.

More baby gear. It never ends, I fear. Each milestone has a price tag and this month several of them have come all at once: first "big boy" shoes, next step in carseats, next and last size in cloth diapers, a shiny new ergonomic red potty chair, and some other fun "kind of needs" that I sneakily threw in to get free shipping (a whale faucet cover and bath toy storage).

It's funny how having children creates a never-ending need for stuff. And we try not to overdo stuff--we try to minimalize, we try not to pork out with overconsumption, we try to recycle, reduce and reuse. I love craig's list. But you never can be sure that a carseat hasn't been in a wreck, and a used potty, well, we won't even go there.

So, today was necessary--the stuff buying, it was needed . . . and it was a day that I got to gear up again with many firsts (shoes, potty) and lasts (cloth diapers) for my very quickly growing little dude.

Noah Finn's First Shoes.

I never thought that shoe shopping for someone else could be so much fun--that is, until I began my search for Noey's first pair. Dean and I took Noah to Wee Soles--an incredibly cute kid's shoe store in Silverlake to get him correctly sized a few weeks ago in preparation for the big purchase.

It had been such an act of restraint for me to not buy a pair sooner--an official "big boy" pair. We knew that it was best to allow him to walk barefooted or socked (or if unpreventable, in soft-soled shoes, like these Robeez we had and loved) as much as possible when learning and even in the first few months of walking.

But the day finally came this week when we felt Noah Finn was ready for some real deal foot bling and after an exhaustive search for just the right pair (and only after a suggestion from my dear mama comrade, Asami) did I find Noah's glass slipper--the "Ocean" sandal by See Kai Run.

They arrived in the mail yesterday after just a day of waiting and Dean and I decided to take him out for a late afternoon trial run in the park. The thing was, not much running or walking, for that matter, occurred. Noah much preferred to sit in the grass and on Daddy's lap for story time instead.

Oh well, they still looked achingly cute nestled among the grass blades . . . motionless. And, if I really look at the bright side, I could also say that it made them awfully easy to photograph.

This Really Rocks . . . Too.

Back when Noah was 4 months old and began to notice that those two people who had been devoutly coddling his every squawk and whimper existed, I turned to my husband and said, "I like this age. 4 months really rocks." But then 5 and a half months came and went with that very same sentiment following Noah's first roll, and then at 7 when he began to crawl, and then 9, and then 12, and now, well, we're venturing into the 14th and I have to say that I said just it again last night.

But, I do. I love this age, it really rocks. 13 and three quarter months is so much fun. Noah Finn walks and talks and laughs and plays and interacts and splashes and goofs and giggles and has a sense of humor that sends me into gushy fits of oozing gooey mommy love.

And, the best thing of all is that I have a sneaking suspicion that it only is going to keep on getting better.

_________________________

P.S. Visit the API Speaks blog for my third publishing that officially posted today--though you guys got a sneak peek at it here last week: "The Conscious Parent".

Birthdays By Hand.

Our time spent here in North Carolina so far has been lovely. It's been quite a bit cooler than the warm 70 degree weather that we are used to in sunny socal--and we may even get an early white Christmas tomorrow *fingers crossed*.

Aside from visiting with tons of family and struggling to keep up with my busy little guy who is taking more and more steps towards his first birthday both figuratively and literally, I am also busy at work putting finishing touches on his birthday crafts that I had begun in L.A.

Because many of our friends' tots back west will also soon be celebrating first birthdays, and seconds, I thought that I would share some of what I've been up to in the case anyone wants to craft together an eco-friendly celebration too! Making your own party decorations not only allows you to customize your party wares down to the smallest detail, but it also makes for an incredibly loving and eco-savvy way to decorate with handmade wares that you'll have to reuse and create traditions with for many birthdays to come.

All of the following craft ideas are surprisingly easy and a whole lot of fun to make! So pull out that sewing machine or needle and thread and craft together a birthday bash!

P.S. I'll be sure to post pictures from the festivities this weekend.

Fruity Birthday Cupcakes

• Okay these aren't a sewing craft necessarily but they are a kitchen craft, indeed! The recipe can be found at my "Feeding Little Foodies" website.

Fabric Flag Banner

1. Draw a large triangle on a thick piece of paper, preferably cardstock
2. Trace the shapes onto the back of your chosen fabrics
   
3. Place cut out triangles, two-by-two, together front to front--the back side of fabric facing out and the two patterned sides facing in
4. Sew along two pointed sides of the triangle leaving the third top flat side unsewn
5. Continue to sew flags until you have enough to create your desired length of banner
6. Turn flags inside out through unsewn top edge so that you now see the front of the pattern and the back of the fabric is inside of the flag, unseen
   
7. Choose a long strip of fabric or ribbon
8. Pin each flag to the strip of fabric or ribbon by folding the ribbon over the top of each flag
9. Leave about 2 inches of space between each flag
10. Sew along the top third edge of each flag so that it attaches to the ribbon
    
11. *extra*: if time permits, get creative and personalize it with a name, initials, or the event name

Double Sided Cupcake Wrappers

1. Download and print template from here
2. Trace template on the backside of your chosen paper
3. Cut out template shapes
4. Place two shapes back to back so that the front of the paper is showing on both sides
5. Glue together
   
6. One the cupcakes have completed baking in the traditional foil wrapper, simply drop cupcake and foil wrapper down inside your new paper wrapper for instant pizazz!
   

Cupcake Birthday Shirt

Now, I wish I could give detailed directions for how to make this little guy, but to be honest with you, I made this little ditty on a whim with extra fabric the night before takeoff. Here's the best I can muster . . .

1. On a piece of cardstock, I hand drew the cupcake
2. Next, I cut each part of the cupcake out into separate pieces (cupcake top, wrapper, candle, flame)
3. I then traced each piece onto my chosen fabric
   
4. After cutting out each piece, I pinned them onto the shirt in the position that I wanted them to be sewn
5. Using my sewing machine, I attached each piece to a plain white long-sleeved t-shirt

Balloon Cupcake Toppers

1. Using a 2" round paper punch, punch out as many circles as desired to spell your special birthday message
2. With rubber alphabet stamps and black ink, stamp letters onto the middle of the circles
3. Once dried, hot glue each circle to the top of lollipop sticks (found at Michael's)

Felt Birthday Crown

Take a break and reap the rewards of other people's craftiness: shop Etsy. I found this precious felt birthday crown made by Shannon over at Flip. Skip. Jump! She did an amazingly incredible job--I just can't wait to see Noah Finn celebrate #1 in this special little hat.

Going "Home" For The Holidays.

As you may have noticed, I've been awfully mute over the last few weeks while Noah has been busy growing and growing and growing. He's mastered his first "real" word--ball--stacked things onto his spoon and then fed himself, began putting things into places instead of just taking them out and . . . da da dum . . . taken his first few steps! I think that he is still going to be crawling to get to he we wants to go, at least for the next few weeks, but progress is progress, right?

On Saturday Noah and I are set to take air and head back to North Carolina for the holidays. Dean is not joining us until the 17th and we all fly back together on the 5th of January, 2010. While the thought of having to pack half of the house in two days makes my palms sweat, the thought of spending 7 hours alone on a plane with my 11.5 month old frightens me even more. Noah may not yet be walking but he is mobile--oie is he mobile. Sitting on my lap is not an option. I am just praying that I am able to jump onto southwest.com 24 hours before my flight to get into the early boarding group . . . all in hopes of grabbing a bulkhead seat. The lack of underseat stowage and a seatback pocket are small sacrifices for a place to set Noah down with some toys to play.

I'll be trying oh-so-hard to update this blog as often as possible while we're away. This time to inform friends back west instead of family back east! We will have much to report. I already have posts about all of the fun birthday decorations that I have been sewing for Noah's first birthday party in the evenings--thus, the lack of blogging--squirreled away in my head. I'll try and share pics and instructions for how to make an eco-friendly fabric flag banner and birthday shirt, where to get incredibly cute felt birthday crowns and how to make snazzy little paper cupcake wrappers and toppers.

In the meantime, Happy December!

Clap, Wave, High Five, Repeat.

Noah is growing not slowly, but in leaps and bounds. I guess that is a given--even a cliche that you always hear but never realize it's literal truth until you have a child of your own.

His current most favorite activities of the day are those that involve the two incredibly complex and wiggly things at the ends of his arms. His hands provide endless hours of fascination for him. He stares at them intently as he holds them close to the tip of his nose and jiggles his fingers and open and closes his fists--open and shut, open and shut.

"Golly gee, that's cool" I can hear his little voice repeating over and over in his head with each concentrated clinch.

It isn't surprising then, that he has discovered some great new things to occupy his little hands with. He claps, waves goodbye and attempts the high five every chance he gets--that is, with the exception of when I try to get him to do it when someone is watching or worse yet, waiting. Usually he's most proficient after the person leaving has just turned their back to walk away or closed the door after salutations. And he claps best after the joke has long turned stale and left the room along with the teller.

Nevertheless, Dean and I know he can do it. Jeesh, he does it in his sleep. He whops me in the nose each time he does.

And, "Golly gee, that's cool" I can hear a little voice repeating over and over in my head with each of those dreamy clinched fists in my face.

The Five-Toothed Octobaby.

Oie! Oie!

How I morn for the days of Noey past when he was not yet mobile, not yet teething and much, much less active.

I have not done a lot of things lately--fold laundry, call my sister and dear friend in Virginia, pet the cats, push back my cuticles, read and comment on my fellow favorite bloggers blogs. Why? Because gone are the days of infant sensory slumber and here are the days of the finger feasts of burgeoning toddlerhood.

The eighth month for Noah has seen many exciting new developments. Teeth numbers 4 and 5 are making their way through the soft puffy pink of the middle top gum . . . and not far behind are the gleaming pearly white of the two "i teeth" right next door (teeth 6 and 7!), for example. But, among those that are keeping my head spinning are his new ability to crawl and his insatiable curiosity.

Move over "Octomom"--meet OctoNoey. On most days it feels more like I birthed an octopus rather than a baby. The speed and ferocity of his arms and little clammy hands reaching and grasping for anything and everything within eye shot is simply exhausting. And, every morning that he wakes his crawl has gained speed and purpose somehow over night.

He slides without stumble across the living room floor over to the coffee table to teethe on the mini record coasters that I got Dean for a birthday years ago . . . and he glides into the kitchen without pause to heave the small colorful ceramic flowerpots on the bottom shelf of the island containing our garlic and shallots across the floor.

. . . and, he's not even walking yet.

Oie! Oie!

But, he's so, so, so darn much fun. And really quite ravishingly handsome too.

By Golly, We're On Tooth Number 3!

Noah has been an incredible little guy lately. Ever since his second tooth popped up right after the first a few months ago, he has been so much fun to be with. He has been smiling, laughing, crawling, rolling, scooting and talking the days away with great virtuosity.

Then, two mornings ago--at nearly 7.5 months old--he woke with a familiar host of symptoms--the teething monster had returned. Last time he was incredibly whiny, extremely slobbery, and had two large red rashes on his little cheeks. This time has been a little different . . . he's not slobbering as much but is a little fussier--even crying quite hard at times (which he doesn't really do anymore), isn't eating solids with great eagerness, and is running a low grade fever (about 99 degrees give or take a bit) off and on.

He definitely is not his usual self--that familiar bright-eyed twinkle is missing from his big baby blues and he is missing that pep in his crawling step. My heart aches for him--I hate to see him in such pain. I know that teething is part and parcel of this whole growing up thing, but it somehow just doesn't seem very fair.

Dean noticed the top of his right eyetooth peeking through the gum this morning. So, it's here . . . but there has been no relief. Is it possible that he's getting a top tooth at the same time? We can only hope that there is some big reward at the end of all of this suffering. Two teeth for the price of one would be nice.

Mommy Milestones.

Yup, moms have milestones too. And one of those includes being able to host a successful playdate with your wee little tot. Noah and I, today, hosted our first official "group" playdate--and it was smashing! Sure, we've had one or two babies over here and there, but most of our socializing has been done elsewhere--allowing our dirty dishes, piles of laundry and dusty furniture to remain a well hidden secret.

For six months I dreamed about the time, somewhere in the future, when I would be able to manage hosting again. Pre-Noah, Dean and I used to have somewhat of a revolving door--frequently throwing dinner parties, birthday parties, wine parties, funday parties, any reason to party, really. But, since baby that has understandably taken a back seat to say, just simply showering and making dinner for the two of us to eat cold and separately while the other puts junior to bed.

But . . . today we triumphed. Even though we gave up going to the Lotus Festival in Echo Park this weekend to stay home and scour the spitup stained floorboards and wrangle cathair tumbleweeds from the corners, it was well worth the sacrifice. Nearly ten moms brought their spectacular spawns to drooble and dribble on the playmat, hiphop in the jungle bouncer, bebop to the babytunes and teethe on all of Noah's toys.

As soon as I finish picking up from today's smash, I will mark this occasion in our "milestone calendar"--"Noah and Mommy host their first playdate: July 13, 2009"--right beside "Noah Finn's 2nd tooth: July 4, 2009".

And . . . we're doing it again on Wednesday!

Eureka! We've Struck Gold!

Enameled gold, that is! Like early west-heading proprietors excitedly seeking that sparkly stuff among riverbed rocks, new parents yearn longingly for the eruption of baby's first tooth--hoping that the months of excruciating pain for both them and their wee tot will, if only temporarily, subside.

Noah has been teething since he was three months old and for the most part--aside from the rosy red cheek rashes, sleepless nights and more drool than a St. Bernard--teething has been tolerable. That is, until the last three weeks. Dean and I were beginning to seriously consider taking our cradle crab to a baby behavioral specialist (Is there even such a thing? There should be!). We were convinced that the non-stop whining, clinginess and downright 24 hour dissatisfaction was due to either something we did or didn't do to/or for him during his very short 5.5 months here on earth . . . or we were cursed with a baby that would grow into a tot who'd get us thrown out of every restaurant, movie theater and theme park until his 18th birthday.

That is until this morning. While groggily chewing on Dean's fingers in the wee hours of the early morn--his favorite first thing to do in the morning after I pry him from my boob--Dean felt a razor sharp edge. After attempting to peer in the busy wet mouth for next to half an hour, we finally spotted in gleaming white, peeking out from beneath the soft pinkness of swollen gums . . . Noah's first tooth . . . and the reason we almost committed our little cherub to a cell with padded walls.

Cursed teeth . . . 1 down and 19 more to go. Why can't they just come already "attached" when born? Like fingers and toes?