How the First Year Went

My dear little boy,

I'm probably repeating the cry of millions of mothers through the ages, but I can't believe you're growing up so fast! How has it been a year already? We started out by calling you Baby Guy, but cannot in good conscience call you a baby anymore; it's Little Man now, especially since you started toddling a week ago.

A year ago, you were a slightly-squashed looking (but still adorable to me) little baby who couldn't do anything but eat, cry, and excrete (note that I left sleep out of that list, because you were a notoriously awake newborn), and now you're a toddler who can basically eat everything we eat, say "mama," and take off like a rocket when you don't want your diaper changed. A year ago, I was thirty-five pounds heavier and much better rested, but also much more selfish and less compassionate. Now, I'm back to my pre-pregnancy weight (phew! I was seriously worried that I wouldn't be able to wear any of my cool handmade clothes anymore) and short on sleep, but I'd like to think I'm a better person now. You have challenged me in so many ways, but (spoiler alert: another mommy cliche coming) I wouldn't trade the last year for anything.

Last night Daddy and I were reminiscing about the last year and talking about how the reality of parenting did or did not match up to our expectations; we both agreed that we had been expecting all the difficulties, but what we were surprised about was how much fun it was. You are a remarkably fun little boy, and it's a pleasure to see you grow and learn. Thanks for defying our expectations, Zachary. And based on the way you recklessly climb on everything, it seems you think you can defy gravity as well!

Love you so, so much.

Mommy

New this month:

• Toddling: You can take several steps unassisted now! You still rely on crawling 95% of the time, though, since it's much faster. 
• Talking: Kind of. You inconsistently call me mama; I don't think you know it's a name for me, it's more like "hmm, if I say these syllables everyone exclaims and claps, and Mommy comes running over to swoop me up and kiss me." You also inconsistently say "貓貓" when you see Walnut or cat pictures in your books. This, of course, delights me to no end. So much better than having your first word be "poop" the way a certain doctor-to-be kept hoping.
• Putting in and taking out: You are starting to realize that things can be inside other things, so you've been exploring what objects can fit inside various containers and boxes. The first time you deliberately put a link into the gelato container, I cheered so much that you kept putting that one link in and out, instead of putting the other nineteen links in. 
• Student babysitters: Twice a week, senior girls take turns watching you during lunchtime so that I can get copies made and tutoring done. As far as I know, you've been fine with all the new faces. You little extrovert, you!
• Stealing food: Every afternoon, I sit down and try to eat an apple/peach/plum/some other fruit with a core, and inevitably as soon as you realize that there's eating going on that you're not part of, you come over and sit on my lap and grab it. And then get angry when I try to take a bite. So then you end up finishing my fruit for me. I suppose there are worse diet plans out there; angry baby steals all your food after two bites sounds better to me than only drinking lemon juice with cayenne powder or some such nonsense...

Here, you've just stolen Daddy's banana. You ended up eating two-thirds of it. 

One year old stats: 

• You have grown over ten inches, almost tripled your weight, and sprouted eight teeth. 
• You are now wearing size three diapers, 12-18m clothing, and no shoes yet. 
• You have now slept for almost 4800 hours, used almost 2000 diapers, and drank almost 8 gallons of expressed milk. I have spent over 600 hours nursing you (and making good use of my smartphone and Netflix subscription). 
• Your favorite foods are avocado, blueberries, watermelon, cheese, and carbs of all kinds, except rice. What kind of Asian baby are you?!
• Favorite toys include the IKEA stacking cups, Frodo, the (sealed) tube of diaper rash cream, and my yardstick. You love playing throw-Frodo-off-the-couch, patty cake, and hide and seek/peekaboo. Dancing to "Barnyard Dance" is also a favorite activity. 
• Favorite books are CAT, The Bellybutton Book, and two Chinese animal books that 爺爺 got you in Hong Kong.

When I ask you to find the cow, you turn to the right page 75% of the time. 

Your first birthday party:

The parenting book that Daddy got recommends keeping a first birthday party small and short and simple so as to avoid overstimulating a baby -- invite no more than 6-8 adults and 2-3 other babies, keeping the whole even less than 1.5 hours -- but we didn't read that part until after the party, so we ended up having 25 adults and six kids over for three hours. Oops. Even so, you did great and loved getting to see so many people and play with all your little friends, and you didn't even cry when we sang happy birthday to you! Somehow, in all the chaos, I managed to totally forget to take any pictures though. Oops again. 

I did, however, manage to take this picture of all your pictures! So meta, I know,

On the day of your actual birthday we had a family dinner with a special healthy baby cupcake for you (applesauce, no refined sugar, zucchini baked into it). I forgot to get yogurt for the frosting so we made do with whipped cream, and then I didn't think to put it on a nice plate so the picture of the cupcake sitting on the sad little cooling rack is a little silly. Oops for a third time. 

But hey, you survived a year, we survived a year, and everyone is happy and thriving despite all the oopses. I think that's an accomplishment! 

I think this picture accurately sums up everyone's feelings about the first year as a family of four: Mommy and Daddy are thrilled, Walnut is indifferent/not amused, and you're wondering what the big deal is. 

How the Eleventh Month Went

With apologies to Jane Austen:

"Are any of your teeth out, Master Zachary?''

"Yes, Ma'am, eight.''

"Eight! -- What, all front teeth out at once? Very odd! -- And you only a baby. -- A baby eating meats and other solid food before the molars are out! Your parents' cooking must be very tasty."

"Yes, my parents are foodies. Perhaps I am full young to be much eating solids. But really, Ma'am, I think it would be very hard upon babies, that they should not have their share of food and amusement because the molars may not have the means or inclination to sprout early. -- The baby has as good a right to the pleasures of the dinner table as the toddler. And to be kept back on such a motive! -- I think it would not be very likely to promote love of mealtimes and family fellowship.'' 

"Upon my word,'' said her ladyship, "you give your opinion very decidedly for so young a person. -- Pray, what is your age?''

"With eight teeth out,'' replied Zachary smiling, "your Ladyship can hardly expect me to own it.''

Lady Catherine seemed quite astonished at not receiving a direct answer; and Zachary suspected himself to be the first creature who had ever dared to trifle with so much dignified impertinence!

"You cannot be more than one, I am sure, -- therefore you need not conceal your age.''

"I am not yet twelve months.''

Dear Zachary,

Oh, our friends warned us. They shook their fingers in our faces (actually they didn't) and made grim pronouncements about the day you would develop firm opinions and how it would throw a wrench in our grand plans. We thought we still had some time before that happened, but now we are facing the reality of a little boy with very decided opinions, despite your tender age.

We used to be able to just sing little songs to you and you'd be content to lie back and have your diaper changed, but now you insist on having a toy to hold onto or else it turns into an octopus wrestling match. And it can't be just any old toy! We must present you with eight choices in succession (dinosaur? shusher? dingly bell? vaseline jar? squishy book? non-squishy book? wooden block? Sophie?) and you will carefully examine each one before rejecting it, even if it was an acceptable choice yesterday. If it's a good day you will choose an actual toy, and if you're extra-opinionated you'll want a non-toy, like the TV remote. Once you find the right changing companion, you will contentedly lie back like when you were three months old.

We used to be able to give you whatever random low-sodium, no added sugar, no preservatives, organic food, and you would happily gobble it down, thrilled with the mere prospect of eating solids. Now, if we try to tempt you with expensive organic avocado or zucchini fresh from the backyard garden, you'll throw it overboard if you see that we are not eating the same thing. If Mommy and Daddy are eating spicy seafood ramen with tons of sodium because it's a work night and everyone is too tired to cook, you want some of that. How dare we eat junk and not share it with you! Alternately, sometimes you are perfectly willing to eat your healthy local produce, as long as we offer it in the correct order. Raspberries first? I SEE THROUGH YOUR MURDER PLOT. Raspberries after eating some toast? Why thank you very much, Mommy, I love raspberries! And then sometimes the mode of offering doesn't please you: yogurt on a baby spoon? ARE YOU TRYING TO POISON ME, WOMAN? Yogurt on a big metal spoon? Oooh, yogurt is the best, we should always have yogurt!

Poor benighted Walnut has suffered the most, now that you have opinions. We used to be able to just direct your attention elsewhere (look! a squeaky toy!), but now you will chase him all over the house, climb the couch, and tree him like Billy's hunting hounds with a raccoon in Where the Red Fern Grows. You want so badly to just squeeze the ever-loving heck out of him; you wonder why your over-enthusiastic petting (read: whacking and hair-pulling) isn't better received; even when he's safe from your grabby hands, thanks to the baby gates,  you can't tear your eyes away from him and will wait patiently (if delighted squeal-screaming can be termed patient) at the gate for him to finish eating and come play. And who can blame you? After all, if a giant fluffy thing as big as me were walking around just out of reach, I, too, would react like you. When we drag you away, we are treated with full-blown crumpled-face WHY DO YOU HATE ME melt-down tears. Thankfully, you are getting a *little* better about petting him gently, and he is generally pretty patient about it all.

But he's so fluffy, I wanna die!!!

Despite the inconveniences of you having so many opinions, I'm still thrilled and amused to see you developing your own mind, as it means you are becoming your own person. Of course, I may feel differently when you're a teenager and asserting yourself in more weighty matters than food-ordering and cat-loving (what if you *gasp* decide you want a dog one day???)... Still, if God can give Adam and Eve the choice between good and evil, I suppose I, too, need to let you make your own decisions, even when they lead to consequences. Right now the worst thing that can happen is getting scratched by Walnut, but one day there'll be more at stake. I hope I can do my part in helping you learn to make good choices.

love,
Mommy

New this month (besides having opinions):

• You were just starting to work on climbing on and off of things at the end of last month, and now you are totally pro at it. This ability makes me less worried that you'll dive headfirst off the couch, but it also means that you can climb up to lick the router whenever you want. 
• You can now sign "milk." As with climbing, this is an achievement not without dangers. You can more effectively communicate when you want to nurse, but that means you sign it every ten minutes, then nurse for thirty seconds. You're a snacker, you are. You also make the sign for milk whenever you want something, you like something, you're anxious about something, or you don't want to wait for something.  -___-
• Standing in short bursts. You've been known to stand for up to thirty seconds at a time, unassisted. Unfortunately, you're a little like Wile E. Coyote running off a cliff in that you stand just fine until you realize you're standing, at which point you get so shocked that you promptly plop back down.
• Deliberately imitating me. When I use the plush IKEA leek to beat the pie pan, you immediately crawl over and try to mimic my actions. When I pat Walnut gently, you giggle madly first, then come over and try to pat him too. Having spent several years teaching my AP Psych students about Albert Bandura and the Bobo doll, I realize I need to be very, very careful from here on out. 
• Blowing raspberries. You learned to do this by imitating Daddy, but sometimes you can't quite get the lip vibration right so you just go "Buh! Buh! Mmmmm-buh!" It's super cute. 
• "Reading" books. Oh, be still my thrilling heart! It's been so gratifying for me to see you spend up to fifteen minutes at a time quietly flipping through your books (instead of just trying to chew on them), looking at the pages and occasionally patting the textured books. I hope you love reading one day for real! 

And it's a book about cats to boot! There's a dog version of this book too, but we refuse to get it. 

Likes:

• Games only Daddy plays. There are some things that only daddies do, whether because they're the only ones willing or able to. You love riding on Daddy's shoulders (and pulling his hair) and being held upside-down!
• Meat, carbs, and cheese. Despite my best efforts to get you to love fruit and veggies, it seems that I have birthed a Midwestern boy. Once the meat, bread, pasta, or cheese make an appearance, all fruit and veggies go overboard. I guess I can't really blame you, seeing as how I love them too. Of course, I also love fruit and veggies, so maybe you will one day, too. 
• Walnut. I know I've said in previous months that you love your brother, but this month that's become even more evident. You squeal and throw your arms up when you see him, and if he doesn't run away after that overenthusiastic greeting, then you will. Not. Leave. Him. Alone. As long as he's in a room, you will try to smother him (sometimes literally) with your affections. Usually you start out patting gently, but as you get more excited this inevitably progresses to whacking, body-slamming, and tail-grabbing if we don't stop you.
• Secure bases. Like reading, this warms my heart. Teaching psych has made me afraid that you would not develop a secure attachment style, but it looks like you're okay! You are happy to explore new places as long as you can come back for a reassuring hug every so often, then you're off again. And lest I feel too special, your babysitter at school reports the same thing, so I guess I'm not the only one who's an acceptable home base.  

Dislikes:

• Being separated from Mommy. Alas, separation anxiety is well and truly here. You cried for the first time last Sunday when I left you at the church nursery, you cried when I walked by on the way to my next class and didn't pick you up, you cry when I leave you on the other side of the baby gate in order to prep dinner.
• Being denied. Now that you have so many opinions, you do not hesitate to let us know when you're angry about not getting your way. Your crumpled up cry-yelling face is equal parts heart-wrenching, guilt-inducing, and amusing in its extremity over something relatively minor. I now understand why there are so many submissions for the "Reasons Why My Child Is Crying" tumblr.
• Hygiene. Washing your hands, cutting your nails, changing your diaper, and brushing your teeth are all still trials. The only acceptable hygiene ritual is cleaning out your ears with q-tips. 

"Mom. I am having a private moment with my friend here. Please stop taking pictures."

Unlikely objects you're friends/obsessed with:

• The vacuum cleaner. Every time I take it out, you have to feel it up and try to lick it all over. You sit mesmerized the whole time I vacuum, watching as two of your favorite beings suck up the hair shed by another favorite being.
• The printer. If we let you into Daddy's office, you make a beeline for the printer and try to press all the buttons. One time you managed to make it scan and copy a blank page; I'm pretty sure that was the highlight of your week.
• The wall furnace. It's got so many nice little dusty holes in the grate for you to stick your fingers in, and every attempt to lick it elicits a lovely reaction from Mommy that results in your being swept up and away.
• The portable air filter at home in SF. Somehow you always manage to zero in on the dirtiest/most dangerous/most inconvenient item to play with...like the super-light air filter that inevitably tips over when you pull up on it. 
• The elephant humidifier. I used to love playing with humidifiers too, so you definitely take after me in this matter. You love poking the nose where the vapor comes out, but nothing beats turning the dial to max. We've had the water tank run out halfway through the night more than once because you turned it all the way up. Don't you know we're in a drought?!

"I do what I want 'cause a pirate is free! I am a pirate! Yar har fiddle dee fee, being a pirate is all that I need!"

How the Tenth Month Went

Dear Zachary,

Your father has this book called The New Father: A Dad's Guide to the First Year that details what we should be expecting regarding your development each month. For this month, it said "Unless your baby is extremely active, [he] won't make many big advances in motor skills this month." To a certain extent, that's true, as you are still just crawling and cruising, but you're definitely even faster, surer, and more daring than last month.

Now that your speed/movement is at like, an 8 (normal human is 6), you are that much closer to your goal of finally being able to unlock various achievements! Based on my observations, your goals seem to be:

1. Lick all the Apple products in the house. With three iPhones, two iPads, two laptops, and one iMac, you certainly have a ways to go. I think you're at four out of eight right now. 
2. Drink out of my water mug instead of your own. I'm not sure why mine is so appealing, especially since the straw isn't nice and soft and chewy silicone like yours, but someone else's is always better, I guess. 
3. Pull the router down off the back of the couch. If anyone is even remotely close to the couch, you will gladly use their leg as a stepping stone to climb up onto the couch so that you can finally destroy that nefarious black box with all the blinking lights. 
4. Play with all the small brown things associated with your brother. Kibble, litter, catnip beaver, fur tumbleweeds -- all of them need to be investigated. Now that you're faster than ever, we've had some close calls. 
5. Get into Daddy's closet to investigate all the tasty treats, namely the cedar block and the dry cleaning bags. 

I suppose it doesn't really help that we make all of those things, with the exception of #3, look really interesting. We do spend a fair amount of time with each of them, whether it be to check email, figure out when you need to nap, hydrating, taking care of Walnut, or deciding what to wear, and you are so, so, incredibly curious. No matter how we try to distract you or set up a barricade around the interesting object, you will not be deterred -- object permanence has set in -- and will continue trying (and crying) to reach that desired object. 

There have been a lot of articles written lately about people suffering from FoMO, or "fear of missing out," and I'm pretty sure you have an acute case. Even if you seem perfectly content playing with your stacking cups, the second I turn my attention elsewhere, you need to check it out too just in case it's more interesting than what you're doing. And if there are lots of people over, then napping/sleeping really turns into a struggle because WAIT WHAT MIGHT ALL THOSE PEOPLE BE DOING WITHOUT ME??? 

I'm not sure where I'm going with all of this, other than to say that I hope one day you turn that indefatigable drive and insatiable curiosity to worthy causes. Maybe you'll make some great scientific discovery (my preference) or become a great athlete (Daddy's preference, although it doesn't look like you're going to be that left-handed relief pitcher since your right hand is emerging as the dominant one), or maybe you'll just be an incredibly faithful family man who does what needs to be done (even better option than the previous two), but at any rate I'm reminded of the worship song that goes "single-minded, whole-hearted, one thing I ask...that I may follow after You all of my days." Hopefully that will be the case for you, and no matter what you grow up to be, I need to remember to be faithful in praying that for you. 

love,

Mommy

Your likes and dislikes basically remain unchanged since last month, so let's just focus on what's new this month:

• Clapping! After lots of examples, guided practice, and then independent practice, you are now an accomplished clapper, which is pretty fun. Even more fun, though, has been seeing you learn when clapping is appropriate. At first you would just do it because we were doing it, but eventually you figured out that clapping comes after an achievement, so you'll clap for other people (like other babies when they have successfully stacked blocks), when you hear someone say "good job," or when you like what someone else is doing. It's pretty heart-warming to see you be so encouraging. We're still working on high-fiving and waving, though.
• Learning to deliberately throw food you don't like on the floor. Before, I never used to be quite sure if you were dropping food because you were just bad at holding onto it, but now I know. You will take the offending zucchini, hold it over the edge of the highchair tray, look me in the eye, and then release it. But slippery little round blueberries have no trouble staying in your hands, so it's pretty obvious when you don't want to eat something. 
• Holding your arms up over your head when you don't want to be picked up. If you're busy playing and we want to -- oh the horrors -- pick you up under your armpits to put some pants on you, you'll raise your arms and just sliiiiide out of our grasp like some elastic, shapeshifting superhero. So smart.
• Growing. You grew out of your infant carseat and have transitioned into the big kid convertible seat and now need to use a "real" stroller when we go out! Curse you for being so freaking long...j/k.
• More teeth! You have four teeth on the top and two on the bottom plus two more just barely poking through the gums. Teething has been pretty hard on your sleep. Short naps and 5AM wakings are not fun.
• Climbing-wise, you can get on top of the plastic bins in your room now, and have tentatively learned to get off the bed and couch legs-first instead of head first. I say tentatively because you've only done it twice starting yesterday, and I'm not yet confident enough to be able to take my eyes off of you. 
• Acting like a cetacean. You love throwing yourself sideways onto piles of pillows like some kind of weird quasi-breach. After you throw yourself into the pillows, you'll squirm around until you've mushed your face into all that glorious textile sensation and then flip over and grin. It's super cute, but it also leaves slobber marks on everything. 
• Splashing in the bath. Around the same time you discovered clapping, you discovered that similar hand motions can move large quantities of water into the air and out of the tub. This brings you great delight but has discouraged your brother from hanging around to watch bath time. 
• "Swimming." After seeing how much fun you had with splashing in a small tub of water, we decided to try you in a larger body of water. The jury's still out, though, on how you feel about being in such a large pool. We've been going once or twice a week this month since it's been so warm, and while you don't cry and are no longer clinging to my neck for dear life, you're also not obviously enjoying yourself. Your favorite part of going to the pool still seems to be the abundance of rubber duckies to chew on. 

• The beginnings of separation anxiety. I was really, really, really hoping you'd be among the minority that doesn't go through this, but it looks like that's not going to be the case. You're still okay with being left in the church nursery, but you have a clear preference for being within two feet of me. Even being held by Daddy isn't good enough when it's book-reading and lullaby-singing time. We'll see how things progress when we go back to school!

Dubious face courtesy of the cold ice in your hands.

How the Ninth Month Went

Dear Zachary,

We have decided that you are the Chris Traeger of babies. Every day, you wake up with a huge smile (probably because you don't have to waste time sleeping anymore) and get going. And once you get going, you just don't stop. As Chris Traeger says, “If I keep my body moving, and my mind occupied at all times, I will avoid falling into a bottomless pit of despair.” (For you, that bottomless pit of despair is nap time.) You have become a ridiculously fast crawler, crawling almost as fast as Mommy and Daddy walk, and you can get into things you're not supposed to two seconds after we turn our backs. The result of this is that we have turned into Mad-Eye Moody: "Constant vigilance!"

So many pictures this month are blurry because you're crawling so fast. 

Not only do you have Chris Traeger's remarkably toned body (for a baby), you are just overwhelmingly positive about almost everything. You spend a significant portion of your awake time with a huge grin on your face and cackling at how funny everything is. Generally you love strangers (knock on wood) and are happy to be left at the church nursery because yaaaayyyy more people and new experiences! You are fine getting into your car seat when we're at home because you know it means going out to see the world, but if we're out at a restaurant or somebody else's home and you need to be buckled in, it's instant sadness because alas, we are leaving all the fun and exciting new things.

Of course, we could just say you're like Dug the Dog from Up ("Hello, I have just met you and I love you!"), but our family policy against dogs doesn't allow me to compare you to one. But we love Parks & Rec, so comparing you to Chris Traeger is acceptable.

I know I said last month that you were getting more and more fun, and that statement still holds true. Your infectious laugh and easy smile have won you the admiration of many random strangers. I feel so blessed that I get to be your mother, and can only thank God that He saw fit to put you in our family. My prayer is that you continue to be a blessing to others even as you grow older, and that you never lose that joy and passion for living.

love,
Mommy

New this month:

• Last month we feared for your life after you learned to crawl and stand, but not to stop and sit back down. After several long weeks of watching your every move and still somehow managing to fail at protecting you from all the corners, walls, edges, and floors in the house (read: every hard surface. Why don't we live in a padded cell like psychiatric wards?), you have finally stopped going to sleep every night looking like you've been in a battle. Now that you can carefully squat back down after standing (and we have moved or covered as many dangerous things as we could), we average only three "I hit something" wails a day, as opposed to thirty. 

• You moved to your own room! I was especially petrified about this since you were still waking three or four times a night, and the thought of trekking down the hallway to get you that many times was unbearable. Thankfully, after a few nights of adjustment, you now only wake up once, usually right before we go to bed, for a quick feeding and then it's back to sleep until 6:30 or 7 am. Hallelujah, God is good. 
• You learned how to scale the Lovesac. Now it's all fun-fun-silly-willy zipping up there and watching Mommy and Daddy rush over to stop you from trying to climb onto the desk from your new vantage point. 
• Finally, drinking water is a thing. I was beginning to worry that you would forever be dependent solely on breastmilk for hydration, as we tried progressively more and more expensive drinking vessels (free shot glass --> IKEA sippy cup --> disposable sippy cup --> Tommee Tippee sippy cup --> $8 Munchkin weighted straw cup finally won). I think the hot weather and your increased activity level helped a lot.
• First time on the swings: we thought you would love it, based on how much you love being swung around in the air by Daddy. Turns out what you loved was the Daddy part, and not the swinging itself, as you were ambivalent at best and slightly freaked out at worst. 

• You have five teeth! Oddly enough, the fifth one to come in was next to your top left tooth, and not on the bottom like all the books say should happen. I am beginning to regret our habit of sticking a finger into your mouth to sooth you when you get angry in the car. 
• We were brave/foolish and took you on your first plane ride! We went to San Diego to celebrate our fifth anniversary and decided to splurge on a luxury hotel. While the plane ride was a breeze (a helpful bachelorette party sitting behind us took it on themselves to play peekaboo with you the whole time), sleeping in a new environment was not. I feel (only slightly) bad for all the rich old retirees who were staying at the US Grant and had to listen to you screaming about the indignities of oh, not being allowed to play with glass and wires, or having to sleep when it's 1 am. It was also the first time we left you with a non-friend/non-family babysitter, but you did just fine and we made it up to you by letting you have some of our Marine Room leftovers the next day. Are we spoiling you by letting you have such high-class experiences on your first vacation? Maybe, but it all evens out in the end because Daddy has decided that such a harrowing experience means you're not traveling again until you're five...just kidding. Sort of.

First plane flight, and you're all prepared with your barf bag!

Making food art on the Grant Grill's nice tablecloth.

New hotel room = endless things to explore.

Making new friends!

Likes: 

• Food: still avocado and blueberries, plus mac& cheese (is there a kid who doesn't like mac&cheese?), potatoes, fresh mozzarella, black beans, and the Marine Room's braised beef cheek. You have good taste, my son. 

• Entropy:  The joys of pulling every book off the shelf and every toy out of the bin have been discovered! It only takes you about three minutes to make your room look like a mess. The best part is that your colorful floor mat works perfectly as camouflage for colorful baby toys, so we are constantly stepping on/tripping over various books, cups, rattles, etc. I guess it's a good thing you have your own room, so it's all mostly contained?

• Toys: this month, the best toys are your IKEA stacking cups (you squeal with excitement when we make towers for you to knock over), the CCHS luggage tag, and the (unopened) tube of California Baby diaper rash cream.

• The ceiling fan: you were so mesmerized when we first turned it on, your head kept circling back and forth trying to follow the blades, and then you fell over while sitting (that hasn't happened in a long time!) because you were so busy looking up. 
• Chatting about new experiences: you've never been one for babbling, but maybe that's just because there wasn't anything worth discussing? We went to SD and suddenly you just would not stop talking! The first hour in the hotel was nonstop "Dab dab dab dab dab dab dab dab dab! Mmmm! Aaaahhhh ehhhh!" 

Dislikes:

• The official worst thing in the world: brushing your teeth. You are generally a cheerful, smiley baby, until we try to stick a bristled torture instrument into your mouth. Then it's full meltdown mode, complete with hysterical screaming, back-arching, and head tossing. Even Baby Einstein videos don't work as distraction, and normally you're mesmerized by screens. Considering the wide variety of items you've stuck into your mouth, I just don't understand what's so bad about a toothbrush. I thought diaper changes last month were bad, but that was nothing compared to this. 
• That's about it! As I said earlier, you are generally a happy, good-natured baby. 

Even when Mommy and Daddy do silly things like put you into the Marine Room bag just to see if you'll fit.

Animals you resemble: 

• A koala: you love clinging to us the way a koala does to a eucalyptus tree. It's really cute how hard you hug, until you start pinching. 
• A raccoon: just like how they like handling their food before eating, you pass your food back and forth from hand to hand, even holding it up to examine it from all angles, before you finally shove it into your mouth. 
• A dog: despite our family's official policy of not believing in dogs, you are all too happy to behave like one: chewing up shoes when you can get them, eating scraps off the floor if you find them, and carrying around toys in your mouth as you crawl around (although your Auntie Emily helpfully points out that this could actually be considered a pirate-with-a-knife type of move). 

• A cat: anything that is specifically meant for you is automatically not interesting, by virtue of us having spent money and/or time in preparing it for you. Toys bought specifically for you? food prepared just for you? Nope, not having any of it. Things that we most want you not to get into, though...those are immensely fascinating. It's uncanny how Walnut knows when an article of black clothing is set down and how you know where the most dangerous objects are. Also like your big brother, you are supremely interested in the contents of his food bowl. Looks like it's time to start putting it up on the counter...

How the Eighth Month Went

Dear Zachary,

I never used to pay much attention to the news. When I was in the sixth grade, I somehow got put into my last-place elective choice, Current Events, and barely earned a C because I couldn't be bothered to keep up with what was going on in the world. Also the only news source in the house was the Wall Street Journal, and I'm sorry, but an 11 year old, no matter how precocious of a reader, isn't going to be digesting much about the stock market. Now, though, it seems I can't help hearing about every single dangerous thing that could happen/has happened to babies, and stories about babies being killed, either accidentally or purposefully, seem to dominate my Facebook news feed (seriously, FB algorithms, you need to get out of my head). Those kinds of things never used to bother me much, but now I inevitably tear up when I read about that poor little ___-month-old who was ____ed so much that he ____ed.

Probably not a helpful thing to reread during this time: World War Z. Many of the stories in that book are heartrending stories (okay, I'm the only one whose heart is being rent) about parents and children, and although the logical T side of me knows that a zombie apocalypse is unlikely, I can't help but waver between 1) wondering if we should replace the sliding glass door in our bedroom with something more solid, 2) worrying that we don't have any axes or other tools that could be used to kill zombies, and 3) thinking that I really should always have at least half a tank of gas and a disaster preparedness kit in my car. Only the last one is a really productive thought. And in reading speculative fanfiction for WWZ, one link led to another and I ended up watching this short film, which reduced me to tears for minutes and stayed with me for a couple of weeks. I couldn't stop alternating between thinking about how I would do anything to keep you from harm, and worrying that I won't be strong enough to do what it takes if the time ever came.

I'm not really sure where I was going with all that, but let me end this month's letter by saying that man, that maternal drive to protect one's babies is strong! It's really hard for me to figure out where the fine line is between letting you crawl around and explore to your heart's content (and bonk your head more than a few times in the process) and holding you back so that you don't get hurt...but then I'm pretty sure that's a lifelong struggle for parents. Here's to hoping I get that balance more or less right in the years to come!

love,
Mommy

This month's updates were written by Daddy:

New this month:

In all the pictures in the previous months, you were simply sitting still or staying put and very content with doing so. How much has changed in the past month as you have begun to not only worm forward but also crawl around like an Olympic crawl sprinter! In the span of two weeks, you decided to transition from being stuck on all fours to sitting up from that position and then crawling in all sorts of directions. This leads to all sorts of problems with naps and sleeping as you want to practice crawling all the time, any chance you get. Because you've gone mobile, we can no longer just leave you in the activity center or on your blanket on your own. We turn to do something for five seconds and you're already halfway across the room looking for trouble.

Two days after you decided to crawl around, you decide to step it up another notch and begin to pull yourself up to try and stand on everything. From our legs to couch cushions, nothing is off limits for you to try and stand. You've even tried to pull yourself up using things that are either too short or too flimsy to support you (this includes a pair of jeans, your toy box, a paper bag, and floor pillows). You even try to stand up in your crib after we put you down. Our only hope is that you tire yourself out after realizing that there's nothing to hold onto.

Fun things you like to do now that you're mobile: 

• Sit up after you've decided to change directions when something else is going on 
• When you see an Apple device, you immediately begin to sprint crawl to wherever it is 
• Try and touch the wall heater when you get into the hallway (responsible adults who are reading this: don't worry, it's been shut off) 
• Pull up to stand using boxes and pretending like you're a bartender 
• Crawl to where you're not supposed to be to grab things you're not supposed to touch, e.g. to the bathroom to touch the trashcan full of used q-tips and floss, to the closet to suck on Daddy's sweaters, to the kitchen to lick flip-flops or tip over the graywater bucket...thankfully you haven't discovered Walnut's litter box yet. 

"What can I say? I aim to misbehave, after all!"

Food:

We are so glad that we decided to go with baby-led weaning, as it makes things so much easier. You've done an amazing job of learning to pick up even tiny pieces of food (blueberries, puffs, rice) and depositing it into your tiny mouth. Your progress has been amazing and you've progressed from when we started in early April with simple foods such as soft apples and pears, to now eating fish cake and bulgogi with us at the Korean restaurant, naan and saag and dal at the Indian restaurant, and homemade gnocchi. This has made eating out so much more enjoyable as a family activity and you love to be included in the festivities. All this eating has also made your BMs a lot more regular with an average of three huge poops per day.

Teeth: 

I'm sorry your teeth have to come in. It's a part of life and it sucks. I wish you were born with a full set of teeth so you didn't have to deal with this pain and itchy gums (Mommy inserts here that she is glad that you weren't born with a full set of teeth). Actually, your first three teeth didn't seem to bother you much, leading to us thinking that this whole teething thing was no big deal, but we seem to be making up for it with this fourth tooth, which has been sprouting with a vengeance. Sadly, it's been keeping you up at night and making you extra chompy while nursing. We hope that the rest of your teeth aren't like this.

Look at those two tiny bottom teeth!

Likes:

• Avocado (you can pound half an avocado + other foods in one meal) and blueberries (such fantastic hand-eye coordination already!), plus the old standby of corn on the cob.
• Making a mess with your food and pounding the high chair when the service isn't fast enough: the messiest foods are definitely avocado, sweet potato, peanut butter, and corn. 
• Moving anywhere: see above. 
• Being thrown up into the air: this is getting harder and harder, though, as you get heavier. We are pleased to announce that all that avocado has finally gotten your weight increasing again and you are now a pleasant twenty pound kettlebell. 

• Destroying towers of blocks or cups: nothing is allowed to stand tall. If it's stacked, it personally offends you and you must go knock it down.
• Your big brother Walnut: whenever you see him, you want to crawl over and grab his fur (Walnut does not like you as much as you like him), his toys are way more fun than yours (you are more interested in his catnip ball than he is), and when he jumps up onto his cat tree you laugh like crazy.   

• Dancing to the Sandra Boynton songs, especially Barnyard Dance and The Bunny Rabbit Show. You make this fantastic face with a huge open smile frozen in place. 
• Making loud noises: whether by banging on the piano, banging on boxes, or whacking those plastic air bags that come in Amazon boxes, the louder it is the better! Thankfully you have not yet discovered the power of your lungs. 

Your box of blankets makes an excellent drum. 

Dislikes:

• Leftovers! Like your daddy, you are not about eating a food after two meals of it. Your mommy went to all the trouble of making a bunch of banana pancakes and meatballs for you for easy meals, but you won't have anything to do with it. Of course, that's Murphy's Law at work. Our meals, though -- those are always interesting! 

I can't have your food?? Whyyyy are you so cruuuuellllll?

• Staying in one place (and this includes your carseat now): you have the patience for about a 15 minute car ride now, after which if you aren't asleep or out, you start screaming 
• Any kind of personal grooming: getting your daggers-for-fingernails clipped, lotion put on post-bath, and let's not even talk about wiping your face after a meal - trying to get you to hold still is one of the hardest things in the world. It's like performing surgery on a turbulent plane.

"Put on a diaper? No way...I'm outta here!"