He's One. Now What?

 

Halloween family photo- Dr. Evil, Mini Me, and a Fembot

I now have a one year old. What does that mean? Well, for one thing, I have to start “Doing” holidays again. I haven't put up a Christmas tree in five or six years. Haven't carved a halloween pumpkin since elementary school. But I remember. I remember what it was to feel magic, real magic as a child. Santa. Trick-or-Treat candy. The Tooth fairy. Easter Bunny. I want all of that for my son, even though it has become just more stuff on the gotta-do-today-list for me.

 

The most magical Christmas I can remember.  My little sis and I woke up to this

He was nine weeks old on his first Christmas so I didn't beat myself up too bad that I didn't find room in our 750 square foot condo to shoe-horn in a tree. Besides, family was in from out of town and Grandma McCallum made sure everyone had their own stocking. And for our first Christmas I had mastitis, a lactation complication that results in shaking chills, fever, full muscle tetany, and near delirium. Not sure I could have operated a Christmas tree anyways.

So the Halloween Jack-O-Lantern didn't get carved until about an hour before the first trick-or-treater came extorting for candy at our door. But it was still technically on time. I laid a contractor sized garbage bag out on the floor to protect the house from pumpkin gut carnage, and quickly realized what a bad idea it was to wield things with sharp edges around a one year old. I also had to goalie him away from my glass of red wine because knives pumpkins alcohol and one year olds. What could possibly go wrong? He explored the slimy interior of the orange orbital gourd with a wrinkled nose and quickly wandered off to play with his actual toys, while occasionally making a play for the knife I was sawing away with or the wine I was trying to drink faster than he could spill it. It turns out we didn't carve a pumpkin together. I sort of carved one at him. Will try harder next year.

This years carving

My (Heart Mother) Mumma Gail had a way of making such an effort and fuss with the traditions of each holiday/birthday as the calendar marched them yearly past that one would pretty much have to be a Scrooge to not get carried away on her parade float of whatever the season was. I want the same for my boy. The bar has been set.

What else does it mean to have a one year old? It means that even though I have a college degree, that little piece of paper can not save me from car seat installation. I feel like an imbecile.

Aunt and uncle asked what he needed for his first birthday, and I requested a convertible car seat that would carry him through however much longer he needs to be in a car seat. He met the height and weight requirements for forward facing after having outgrown the rear facing one that brings a baby from newborn to one year old. Easier days are here! Or so I thought. A few weeks later on the phone with said uncle, He let me know that babies need to be rear facing until they are two years old, regardless of height and weight. I called the pediatrician and he confirmed that because babies are so top heavy (see: big headed) their heads can get thrown forward in an accident causing neck and spinal cord injuries. The most common injury for rear facing car seat scenarios are lower leg injuries, much easier to deal with than spinal cord involvement.

So I went from rear to forward facing back to rear but passenger side then I read that the center is safest for babies so I went to the center position but saw that when cross referencing the car seat install manual against my actual CRV manual that there are three possible car seat positions in the back seat but for the center position I had one anchor point correct but one wrong and when I moved it to the auto manufacturer recommended anchor position It made the seat crooked and therefore wobbly so I had to move the latch points back to where I had them to begin with again and I watched all the Youtube videos about rear facing car sear instillation and then called the police station to see when they were going to have a fair again to offer free car seat inspections. Really. I'm a mommy and I want my mommy. I've installed the new car seat five times and each time I do it I'm stupider. But my swear jar is stuffed.

The car seat is triple anchored. Factory latch that came with the seat. Extra heavy duty latch strap that auntie and uncle researched and swear is NASA approved. Plus seat belt. If I could drive from the center mounted back seat rear facing car seat I would be much safer.

He's one. And he's different every day. He can suddenly eat things he was just choking on (diced chicken and vegetables) or things he was just refusing have suddenly become culinarily titillating (yogurt and eggs). Every time I feed him I have to do a Silkwood-worthy perimeter sweep around his highchair to keep ants and cockroaches at bay. He's all about the dap (see: fist-bump). He is visual like me (my first word was “See” as I would point to things) he has started pointing to things and making a cute inquisitive noise. He runs away laughing when I want him to come to me for a diaper change or a bath, as he keeps stopping to look back and make sure I am chasing him. He likes to hand me things, like handfuls of sand at the beach. His bed time has gone from 7 pm always to 8 pm sometimes. Tantrums have become more of a full-body interpretive dance expression of displeasure. He has started head butting me in the mouth/jaw area when I bend to pick him up in moments of un-cooperation. We have installed toilet seat locks as he is now both strong and coordinated enough to lift the lid and throw things in. Used to only be a problem if we left the door open and the lid up. Useful as the seat locks are they are the devil to the damned soul that needs to pee at three a.m. I learned to leave them open the first night...The kitchen trash can is up on the counter (I've had to administer IV Ativan to my inner nurse to quell the convulsions this causes...) because he pulls things out of the trash or throws things in. Like his favorite can't sleep without it blankey. Or my car keys. Which he has taken to stealing from my computer table drawers that he used to not be able to pull open. And yes. I know. It's just getting started. Shut up. I have a pretty good Idea of how screwed we are. 

Where is my baby? Who is this little boy?

 

He's starting to look more like a little boy than a baby. I swear he's bigger after a nap some days. And then he's going to want to borrow the car and then he's going to be going off to college on the mainland. I already know my boy is going to want to go off and see the world. I try not to get too far ahead of myself and just enjoy watching him become before he needs to Go Do BE. As I love seeing him become who he is, I still feel my face get hot and my eyes water when I review the year in pictures.