Cael has been sleeping in his "big boy bed" for about a week now. He took two naps in it and refused to return to the crib after that. He knows he's too cool for that baby stuff. Fortunately for us, however, he treats that little side rail as if it were an electric fence. He won't get out of his bed on his own - instead he just sits up and cries and waits for assistance. This morning he just sat there and said, "Mom mom? Mom mom?" until I rescued him.

Hopefully this trend will continue at least until we fix the door of his room so it actually latches. Otherwise I expect to wake up to find the little dude asleep on the floor of the kitchen with his cheeks full of Cheerios.

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Because you all so desperately want yet another video of Cael eating. You know you do!

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I'm sure you all know this, but I have a deep dislike of phones and phone conversations. Usually, in order to combat this, I hide it under the bed. But now I have a better solution: Cael!

The little dude has a love of phones that has to be inherited from his father. If anyone is using a phone, he must be a part of the conversation. It's as if phones call out to him, "Slobber on me! I need some drool!" His obsession goes so far that he will make other objects into phones. He frequently picks up television remotes and holds them to his hear with an enthusiastic, "Hewo!"

I think I'll just have him handle all my phone conversations from now on. Sure, they'll just consist of salutations and names of body parts, but minus the body parts that's pretty much what you'd get with me anyway.

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Well, we've made a little progress with the video camera. He still insists on looking at the viewfinder, but the tunnel vision has faded a bit. Unfortunately, when he's looking at the viewfinder I can't be, so... chopped off face ftw!

Cael shows off his anatomy knowledge and a repeat performance of the crowd pleasing fish impersonation:



I was hoping to get some other animal noises on video, but after the fish he found his ball and, well, you can imagine what happened next.

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Cow - "MMMMMM!"
Cat - "Mmmmm."
Doggie - "Guau, guau!" (Yes, that's Spanish for "Bow wow!" He is a bilingual baby, after all.)
Pig - *scrunches up nose and sniffs*
Sheep - "Mom!"

I tried to get these on video, but when he sees the camera he attacks it like his mom attacks chocolate cake.

We did, however, manage to capture a bit of his fish impression on film:

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The cow says, "Mom!"

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Cael's two favorite things to say need no translation. Whenever he sees someone or talks to someone on the phone (before he presses his favorite button - the red one) he's ready with an enthusiastic "hi!". If something is dropped (or, more likely, thrown), or if Clio is outside and needs let back in he will let me know by saying, "uh oh!" - which is rapidly overtaking "hi" on the frequency of use scale. (He also says, "Mama!" but most of the time he's using it to refer to himself, so I'm pretty sure that doesn't count.)

That's pretty much it as far as clear, distinct words go. His comprehension is awesome. There's very little that he doesn't understand, but he doesn't know how to voice things yet. He's babbling constantly, however, and there are a few "words" that are definitely attempts at communication. The following list can be used to decipher his code:

Da - Dad
Hewo - Hello
Anana - Banana
Bah - Ball
Bah buh - Diaper
Bah bul - Purple
Ahrge - Orange
Chz - Cheese
Shz - Shoes
Ny ny - Night night

He plays with five crayons and every time he picks one up I tell him the name of the color. This has lead to "bah bul" and "ahrge" but he makes absolutely no attempt at red, blue or green.

"Ny, ny" is his newest and my current favorite. Ryan and I tuck him in every night and when we set him in his crib we say "Night, night!" and he has started saying "Ny, ny!" back. Last night he kept repeating it for a while after we left. We were standing outside the door listing to him echo "Ny, ny! Ny, ny!" Very sweet.

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Cael had his first playdate today. Yes, I am aware that he's 18 months old and should have had a zillion by now, but I'm antisocial. He may enjoy playing with other babies but that means I have to play with other moms! Yikes.

Eight toddlers in all, from 10 months (?) to 18 months. Cael is the oldest by a few weeks. There was an attempt at getting all of them to sit in a line for a picture, but you can imagine how well that went.


Oh noes! Someone knocked over the ladybug!


Cael actually did pretty well sitting in place for pictures, but it was mostly because his socks came off and he spent the entire time trying to put them back on.

In attendance were two ladybugs, a princess/fairy, a lamb, a dinosaur, a cheerleader, Princess Leia (who refused to wear her bun wig), and Cael. Cael was too cool for a full costume and came instead as the older, more responsible boy who just wears a Halloween tshirt and jeans. What can I say? He's a rebel.

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Ask Cael where his Dad is and he'll say, "Da!" and point to Ryan.

Ask Cael where his Mom is and he'll say, "Mama!" and point to himself.

Ask Cael where Cael is and he'll say, "Mama!" and point to himself.

If you challenge or contradict him, he just gets more insistent, shaking his head, pointing to himself and shouting, "Mama! Mama! Mama!"

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... while he's at work.

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Itsy Bitsy Spider:



Up and Down:

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Today was the first day that Cael operated his climber all by himself - through the door, up onto the platform and down the slide!

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Ryan took Cael to Les Schwab today (both in Notre Dame apparel, of course). Apparently, it was the best 30 minutes of Cael's young life. He's a hardcore tire fanboi. He spent the entire time running up and down the aisles, touching every tire he could reach and squealing in delight. If only I could get that excited about a brake check.

As an added bonus, Cael got to flirt with ladies at Starbucks and Great Harvest on the way home.

Now they're watching the game and cheering wildly for the Irish - complete with chants and arm movements.



I'm going to have to block the ND fan shop from Ryan's computer. I was able to hold him back last night ("Look at this little hoodie fleece! Cael would love it!" and "The shamrock is smiling on this t-shirt! It's so cute!") but I'm afraid he won't be able to resist any longer. Football season is upon us.

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Caught on film!



And no, he's not flirting with one of the cute girls in his Spanish class. He's flirting with one of their moms.

Typical.

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... you think, "He's being suspiciously quiet" and go to find him curled up on the floor of his room, face buried in his blanket while sucking his thumb.

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Martin and Kathy took us to the Oregon State Fair today. Cael had a blast. His second attempt at a petting zoo was a bit more successful than his first (the county fair). He was a little more interested in the animals and a little less interested in truck tires. Although, he did enjoy spending time playing with the gate. But who can blame him? Gates are cool.



His dad tried to get him to go on the Zipper, but Cael (wisely) would have none of it. There's always next year.

Martin, on the other hand, was a huge fan of the Zipper and the bungee jump. It ended up being a good thing, because the staff had to ask him to leave the petting zoo (kids kept thinking he was a donkey) and the thrill rides are a great babysitter.

Also a hit with Cael was the fake rain forest. (And, of course, the accompanying gate.)

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Cael's no longer the baby in the family. Now he's the older cousin, ready and willing to teach the young and impressionable how to drool, open cupboards, and get stuck in small crawl-spaces. Whee!

We went straight up to Portland as soon as we heard the news. Mom and baby are happy and beautiful. I'm pretty sure I looked like I got hit by a mac truck a few hours after Cael was born. Sarah looks like she stepped out of a salon. Unfair!

Cael was more interested in flirting with the nurses than paying any attention to his new relative, but I suppose that's to be expected. He is related to Martin, after all.

I fear for the teenage years.

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Cael now can say "Dad" and "Hi, Dad."

He is completely independent with his cup. He'll even walk around the house while drinking it. He still sloshes it a bit, but he does really well.

He's also independent with his spoon, as long as whatever he's eating is sticky enough. I give him two spoons (one for each hand) and a bowl of Cream of Wheat and he'll get down to the bottom of it all by himself. Granted, a good portion of it ends up all over his face, but still! Progress!

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Cael's picture was on the front page of the local section in today's Statesman Journal. He's doing what he does best - shoving something into his mouth and slobbering.

I'm so proud!

Class provides early start on bilingual learning for babies

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Cael has a remarkable ability to get himself into spaces he can't get out of.



He used to scream until I rescued him. Now he just gives me the "a little help please?" face.

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I don't have a baby anymore - I have a little dude. He's incredibly mobile and becoming more and more vocal and independent. He's an expert at walking, running and dancing (thanks to Grandpa Paul, Cael prefers to dance to bubble gum music and is especially fond of "Do[ing] the Freddy").

His new favorite trick is to bring Ryan or I our shoes and make us put them on, then grab us by the finger and drag us to the front door so we'll take him outside. Since he discovered he could pull on a finger and take someone wherever he wanted them to go, I've covered a lot of ground.

He's not saying words yet, beyond "hi." He also says "sssshs" for shoes.

Though he's not talking, he's very much aware of words and their meanings. If you say the name of something, he will bring it to you (his stuffed animals, books, shoes, blankie) or he'll point to them (belly button, dad). And if you tell him it's time to change his diaper, he'll find his way to the changing table and wait to be put on it (which is incredibly compliant for someone who still squeals and wiggles like a greased pig when he's being diapered).

He has eight teeth in front and more coming in - including molars. Pretty soon he'll be able to chew through that raw steak we've been giving him without choking.

Eating has become messier, as Cael has decided that he would like to hold his own cup and spoon. I'd say he's got a 50/50 chance of making things into his mouth on each attempt. Plus, he hasn't figured out that spoons have to be right side up or everything in them falls onto his lap.

Things are about to get even messier. On the schedule today is a trip to the craft store to buy some finger paints. Be afraid, be very afraid!

(Pictures of the Sunriver trip to come at a later date.)

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Since Cael has become such a dancing machine, we've taken to turning on the children's music station on Comcast and letting it play in the background sometimes. I tried the toddler's station, but it's harder to rock out to Raffi than to High School Musical. You try shaking your booty to "If You're Happy and You Know It" and you'll see what I mean.

As the music plays, the television goes through a (very limited) slideshow. The pictures are of things like girls pillow fighting and very!happy!kids wearing backpacks. Each picture has an accompanying fun fact. I know they're "fun" facts because they are prefaced with, "Wow!" and "Hey!" and "Betcha didn't know!" (I'll tell you what I do know - "betcha" isn't a word. But, then again, what do I expect from a channel called "Kidz Only!")

Whoa! The Crayola factory in Easton, PA opened in 1996!

See? Without that "Whoa!" I'd think that was the most ridiculous fact ever and I would immediately flush it from my brain. But I will retain it forever and regale people with its awesomeness because WHOA it's great!

You'd never guess the first pencils were left unpainted to show off the high quality of the wood!

No, I wouldn't!

Spider-Man was created by Stan Lee and Steve Ditko. Made you look!

...I don't even know what to say.

I'm going to have to get a radio.

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We were watching So You Think You Can Dance.

Nigel, meet your future contestant:



He's got more rhythm than his Aunt Lauren!

We had to keep rewinding that song because every time it ended, after he applauded, he would cry until it started again. Dancing machine!

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Because it has been so sunny and gorgeous here, we've been taking lots of trips to the park. We've sampled a few of the local spots and settled on South Village park as our favorite because it has tot-sized toys and less moms. (The latter, of course, being the biggest draw. Small talk! Curses!)

I think Cael's becoming a park addict, however. Today at Bush he threw a tantrum every time Lauren and I would try to take him out of the swing. Such a diva. Eventually we just had to drag him away screaming until the swing was out of sight.

Other news: Cael had his first haircut with Tina, and Aunt Lauren bought him shiny new shoes. (No wonder he's become a diva. Spoiled.)

Photos of the beach trip and graduation to come later, when Uncle Marty the Uber Photographer gets us copies of his pics. (Chop, chop Uncle Marty!)

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Cael and I went to Freddy's today, and before we could make it through the front door, we were accosted. Usually, it's the girl scouts (damn them and their cookies!) but today it was a guy from the Statesman Journal. He shoved a newspaper in my face and asked if I would like a free copy.

I said yes.

No one knows why I said yes. I don't like papers, I don't need papers (if it isn't on Stewart or Colbert, it isn't news!) and I certainly didn't want to put it in my cart and deal with the inevitable, "Are you going to pay for that?" from the checkout lady. (We all know that "dealing with checkout ladies" ranks somewhere just above "sand in underwear" on Allies Scale of Discomfort.)

But I took it.

Apparently, taking offered free stuff means that you have to stand there and listen to Paper Dude go through his entire spiel. It's like an invisible tether of obligation. Little did he know, I didn't even want the free one. If I didn't want his free paper, I sure as heck didn't want to sign up for a monthly subscription. And no, two gold dollars don't sweeten the deal. Unfortunately, I'm just so good at smiling politely (what? I am!) that he was so encouraged he felt the need to keep going and going. He even worked Cael into the pitch, saying how adorable he was and being quite the charmer.

Then he got to the end of his little checklist and I denied even the smallest subscription. The moment the final "no thank you" left my lips it was like a switch was flipped. Paper Dude's face fell flat, he turned his back to me and actually made "Have a nice day" sound like a threat.

I barely refrained from chasing after him, calling, "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to reject you! Can I get the one that comes with the coins? They looked very shiny!"

Grocery stores should totally have back doors.

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Cael took his first unassisted step yesterday - in the bathtub. Because the logical transition is to go from utter terror of stepping without a hand-hold to free-styling through knee-deep water in a ceramic death-trap. Right?

Today he has taken a few more steps on his own, but still prefers crawling and walking with support. Maybe he's just waiting for his next bath?

Also, today was his first venture into the toilet bowl. Sensing a pattern?

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Cael turned one last Wednesday, and so we check in with his stats!

Cael @ 12 months:

His percentiles haven't changed, so he's still a runt with a big head. He's actually so small that he can't use his new car seat. It's designed for "one year or 20 lbs" and he's too little. You'd think his big head would count for something!

Due to his excessive drooling (Really, it's ridiculous. It's like he has a hole in his chin), he's on prescription cream for his chin and neck. Be sure to file that away so that you can all tease him about that when he's a teenager.

He's accomplishing a lot of things and is very proud of these accomplishments (and rightfully so). He's figured out what makes us applaud him and likes to applaud with us, usually anticipating it and starting the clapping for us. Sometimes he starts clapping for himself even before he's finished the task.

Walking is coming along. He will walk and run if he's got a hand hold, but is afraid to let go - even though I'm sure he could take a few steps on his own. He doesn't really use the hand for support so much as comfort.

He eats everything. Loves veggies and cheese and Cheerios. He's not nursing anymore and likes water more than milk, but he'll drink the latter. He had his first treat on his birthday, an overcooked carrot cupcake (one day I'll figure out how to use an oven - one day!) with cream cheese frosting.

He still doesn't know "no" (if his constant eating of pine cones is any indication).

Clio likes Cael's toys, but only when they're in his hand. Luckily, Cael is big on sharing. He likes to give her what he's playing with and watch her chase it.

Once a week Cael goes to the library for their "Brainy Babies" bilingual class. It's a lot of singing and chewing on rubber balls. So, not that different from when he's at home. "La Araña Pequeñita" is his favorite song.

Right now he's figured out that his dad is on the other side of the closed door, so he used his walker toy to haul himself over and has started banging on the door and crying. We'll all be glad when Ryan's finals are over!

Off to rescue him...

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No one told me that diapering a crawler was like trying to wrangle a wet rabbit.

Cael no longer lies on the changing table like a turtle on his back, immobile and perfectly content to stare at the ceiling. Now that he realizes he can move, he insists on doing so.

There's a painting on the wall of the nursery of the alphabet with animals. For some reason, this particular piece holds him entranced with a magic not seen since the great and powerful crack star. He can't tear his eyes away. Ryan and I are under strict orders to take him to it every time we enter the room and every time we get him up from his crib. And it's a fierce battle to keep him on the changing table when he's locked eyes on that painting.

The lap belt that comes with the table may as well be a daisy chain, 'cause it does nothing to strap him down. He can wiggle out of that before I even get it snapped. No lap belt can do what ankle and wrist restraints are required for (and I'm not convinced he couldn't get out of those).

When placed on his back, his first order of business is to roll onto his stomach. Then he grabs the railings and pulls himself to the edge, kicking and squirming while trying to launch himself face first onto the ground. If you grab him and flip him back over, he simply repeats the process.

Diapering, then, requires one hand holding onto the baby at all times. Be it latching on to an ankle or bracing his shoulders, if you don't have a hand on him, he's Evil Knievel. You are left with one hand to unbutton the twenty or so snaps on his outfit, remove the soiled diaper, retrieve a wipe from the warmer, wipe, grab a new diaper, wrestle it on (they really ought to sell diapers that fasten in the back), put his legs back in the outfit, and re-button the twenty snaps.

As you can likely guess, when the diaper is well and truly soiled (say, after a hearty meal of Baby Dal, for example) this process is considerably messier and requires changing the clothes of all parties involved (including the table).

Bring your garbage sacks, Gallagher fans, it's going to get messy.

(And Baby Dal poo totally deserves a post all it's own...)

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Better at crawling, better at pulling up and better at eating =)

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And we're on the move!

Cael is crawling - rapidly. Yesterday it took him 30 minutes to cross the room, now it takes 30 seconds. I suppose it's time to babyproof? =)

Also, he has learned how to stand up in his crib. Unfortunately, he hasn't yet learned how to sit back down. Lately every time I come into the nursery I find a screaming, stranded biped.

And, just to spice things up, he's taken to flipping himself over while being changed. I can now diaper upside down!

(I am totally looking forward to more baby showers that have the diapering competition. I will rule!)

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On Sunday night Cael's blankie was violently yanked under the wheels of the stroller. After initial shock subsided, Green Blankie was rushed home, torn and muddy, where Cael's mom performed corrective surgery.

This photo was taken after being sent through the washing machine.
The "before" washing machine picture was deemed by the AP to be too gruesome to publish.

Being a novice surgeon and unfamiliar with this particular type of patient, Cael's mom was only able to do an amateur patch job. We're hoping it holds out.

The family asks that your hopes and prayers be with them.

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(Click to enlarge)

Look at all those teeth!

Are you surprised he's not screaming?

ME TOO!

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The boys wait for their second swimming class. Cael is chatting it up with Jon and Kadin. (Cael is totally going to be the, "Mom, why do we have to hang out with that little runt?" guy for poor Kadin and Logan. Meanwhile, Cael will be like, "Mom! Can I hang out with the big boys again?!")

Here is Cael working on his breast stroke. Nice form. (Or maybe he's reaching for his toy. Either way, looks good, no?)

"We kick the ball to Cael, to Cael, to Cael. We kick the ball to Cael and Cael kicks it back!"

Cael's glide to the instructor.

His glide back - underwater! I have it on good authority the glide back is not nearly as much fun. Probably because he has to go back to his dad. How uncool is it to hang with your dad in front of all these peers? (Note: Cael watches Gilmore Girls with me, so he knows that being with your mom is cool. I'll have to find some way of convincing him Ryan's not as big of a loser as Cael thinks he is. Good luck with that, huh?)

"I want the instructor back!"

A little one-on-one time while they turn into raisins.

Seven weeks left. Then he grows fins.

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Cael is nine months old today, and to celebrate he went to the doctor. Boy, does he know how to have a good time!

The stats:

Height: 25th percentile
Weight: (17 lbs) 10th percentile
Head: 50th percentile

So, nothing's changed. He's still a runt with a huge head. A smaller, skinnier runt, but a runt nonetheless.

Food:

He's still nursing and eating solid foods. He was strictly an oatmeal man, but this morning he had his first batch of Cream of Wheat for breakfast. Ever the adventurer.

Bread for finger foods (he failed at rice cakes).

For dinner he has veggies, stews or quinoa. We tried meat earlier this week, but he would have none of it. I can't say that I blame him though - I wouldn't want to eat watered down ground turkey either. So, as of today, he's still an herbivore.

He's a huge fan of drinking water from a cup/glass. He can't hold it himself yet, but he tries valiantly.

Motor skills:

Still not even the least bit interested in creeping or crawling (or anything to do with being on his stomach). He's a big fan of standing and assisted walking/running/chasing Clio. Cruising is coming along gradually.

He can lean to get something that's fallen out of his reach, but if he leans too far he falls onto his stomach and can't get back upright (usually with his face smashed into the stray toy). He sits like a champ, but isn't able to get into a sitting position by himself. Nor is he able to pull himself up to standing.

His fine motor skills are well honed. He can even pick a sprout out of my hand.

Talking:

He says things that sound like "mama" and "dada" but it's totally random. Words at this point still have no meaning. He doesn't know what "no" means.

Teeth:

Two on the bottom. It looks like there are four on the top about ready to burst through (very swollen and red today).

For fun:

He is learning to "clap, clap, clap!" his hands, adores the itsy bitsy spider and is working on waving bye-bye. Peekaboo is also a hit.

Other:

He's done with the pacifier. No interest at all. He has gotten himself very attached to his green blanket, and always clings to it while sleeping.

First swimming class on Saturday. That should be terrifying fun.

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We're currently without our video camera, so you'll just have to add the hissing sound in your head. ;)

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I thought Cael knew how to scream. I was wrong. Now he knows how to scream. And he does it all the time.

I guess about 9 months is when babies develop the ability to throw a temper tantrum. Cael has figured out that if he's not happy where he is (sitting with his toys, in his Exersaucer, in the grocery cart at the store, in someone's lap) he can just let out a loud, shrieking scream and someone will rush to him, pick him up and change his position. Works every time.

I've gotten to the point where I tell him that tantrums are not necessary and he's really too young to be such a drama queen, but I do it while I'm catering to his every whim, so I'm pretty sure he's not getting the message.

He's also taken to scrunching up his nose and hissing like a cat. I'm not quite sure what he's trying to convey with that - it seems like he might be testing it with all possible emotions to see which it fits best.

When he makes a decision, I'll let you know.

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I find myself constantly surprised (and, I will admit to being a little disappointed) at the lack of attention Cael gets on outings. Surely, this is mostly a *new mother!* thing, but there is a part of me that thinks objectively that babies should draw at least a little attention. I mean, they're adorable. If guys rubberneck at ladies in short skirts, can't the rest of humanity be bothered to look at a passing ball of cuteness?

When we go to the store, even when Cael is making cooing and bubbling noises, no one looks at him, waves at him, or makes cooing noises back. Not even the people at the register can be bothered to acknowledge his existence. I feel bad for the little dude, because he is so used to everyone he sees (read: the flood of relatives) turning into his own personal entertainment system the moment he walks into a room. On outings, when there are tons of potential playthings, they all ignore his advances. He's constantly being shot down. It's kinda heartbreaking.

That is until we encounter that random person (usually a woman) who goes in the complete opposite direction. Instead of ignoring him, she throws herself at him and launches into full on, in depth stories about her life, tells us the names, ages and tooth-counts of her grandchildren (always a grandparent), and is totally inconsiderate about the fact that when we planned our excursion to the store we didn't factor in a thirty minute conversation with a stranger.

On Friday night the sales lady at Macy's stood at the register with our purchases and didn't ring them up for a good 10 minutes, holding them (and us) hostage while she told us grandmothery things. Then, after she rang them up, she decided there were things in the store Cael had to have and said, "Stay right there." She proceeded to rummage through the Christmas decorations and find every stuffed animal, test its beady eye strength, and bring it to the register. Once she had piled up enough, she asked which one we wanted to buy. It was an entirely new degree of salesperson purchase pushing and it made me very uncomfortable.

If Ryan hadn't been there, we would have come home with at least one over sized plush ornament with a holiday scarf. There's no doubt about it.

Oh, and then there was the guy at Fred Meyer who pinned me against the sour cream and told me about all nine of his grandchildren, showed me all of their photos and described in what ways they looked like their parents. When he got to the youngest, newest babies, he told me the story of their births and how he almost didn't live to see it because of a terrible car accident. The accident killed the other driver, hurt the man and his wife, and would you believe their HMO didn't cover it, and he's been to six hospitals in order to find someone who can diagnose, and the pain is right there when he turns his neck like so...

So, maybe I'm not really that upset about the lack of attention Cael gets at the stores now. Huh.

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