Rhymes With Orange

One Year...part two

So...I really had all the best intentions in the world to post cake pictures after Danny went to bed on Friday. Apparently though, turning one was so tramatic that Danny has not stopped whining, fussing, screaming and throwing fits since. He has also decided that non-liquid food is evil and refuses to eat anything unless it comes from a sippy cup or me. Spoons are the work of the devil.

This too shall pass, right? Right?? Lie to me. Please.

Cake was fun. Danny poked the frosting till it was covered in tiny finger prints and then refused to eat any of it, his friend Emily did a little better and smeared herself with pink frosting in the process. It was super cute though.

 

The hats stayed on for all of 3.2 seconds.

 

 

 

This year went by too fast, but I'm trying my best to treasure every minute.

One Year

Happy Birthday beautiful boy!

 

 

 

Cake pictures to follow later on tonight =)

A month's worth of memories, crammed into a 15 minute post.

 In exactly fifteen days, Daniel will be one year old. The reality that he is no longer a baby is beginning to set in, and I find myself having to resist the urge to approach people in Walmart and beg them to let me sniff their newborn baby's head.

About eighteen days ago, Danny took his first steps. Now he's toddling all over the house with great confidence. It's crazy to watch him let go of the coffee table and toddle to the bookcase where he will begin perusing the books, trying to decide which one he wants to eat today. Yesterday, it was The Chronicles of Narnia; today The Complete Works of Shakespeare and New Knits on the Block. His tastes are very eclectic. He's getting so good at walking. The farthest he's made it without falling is from the coffee table into the kitchen (about 15ft.) It blows my mind.

This past month, he's been discovering that he can communicate with his hands. He points, he claps, he hits, he plays peek-a-boo, he pokes, pinches and waves. He especially loves to clap. Clap for the kitty, clap for the Wiggles, clap for Daddy, clap when Mama stubs her toe, clap for infomercials. It's great to exit the bathroom only to find him sitting on the floor in front of the door, clapping =D He likes to wave at me when we're nursing, and in the morning when Mike leaves for work, he sits in front of the door waving bye-bye and sobbing. It's so sad, my heart breaks a little more each time.

 

He babbles constantly. Dadadadanananana! Whoa! Ayeah! Bah-bye? Nunu. Gat? Wee! No actual words yet, but we'll get there. He's so fascinated by babies. We were at a picnic this last weekend, and there were several babies there much younger than he was, and Danny was absolutely enamored by them.

 

We still do not sleep. He typically sleeps from 9:30pm-12am, and then nurses on and off till 6am when he will sit bolt up in bed and begin singing and patting my face. I have tried everything. Nothing has worked so far. Someday, I will sleep again. And it will be beautiful. I wish I could get more time to blog more often, but he doesn't nap either. Right now, he has been asleep for 30mins, and I know I'm pushing my luck.

 

He's just so busy. Everything is wonderful, everything is exciting. I love watching him figure out how the world works. Seeing the world through his eyes is spectacular, and I'm doing my best to soak up every moment.

 

 

Easter Sunday after church. He found exactly four eggs, put them in the basket and then spent the rest of the hunt dumping them out and putting them back in =)

Window to the soul

"Kate? Where's Danny's sunglasses?"
"I threw them away. The lens kept popping out."
"When was that?"
"The day I asked our son where the lens was, and he smiled at me and showed me his tongue through the window in his mouth."

ENG

About a month ago, I reached down to scratch my foot and realized I couldn't feel my toes. It was an odd and rather alarming discovery, so after a day or so of debating I went to the doctor. He wasn't my own doctor --she couldn't see me for a week-- and it proved completely unhelpful. He looked at my foot, poked my toes and declared that he had no idea what was going on, but as far he could tell I was in no danger of losing my toes. Great. Thanks. So, last week, I finally got in to see my own doctor. She looked at my foot, poked my toes and declared, "How odd!" She sent me for x-rays and to have more blood taken than I think they have tests for. Everything came back normal. "You're nice and healthy!" she exclaimed over the phone. And so yesterday morning, at the butt crack of dawn, I found myself laying on a table in a dim room, wrapped in a napkin having somebody poke my legs with a cattle prod. I'm pretty sure ENG stands for Electrified Needle Gorging. After the poking, he informed that he would have to prick me with a tiny needle. "It will be uncomfortable, but it won't hurt." he said. Uh-huh. Sure. Annnnnnnnd then he stabbed me.

After the pin cushioning was over, he looked at his chart and said "Hmm. I guess you must be pinching a nerve in the back of your leg when you bend it. I would recommend not bending it very much."

Yeah, because that's gonna happen.

;)