Sunday, August 24, 2008

10 Months Old

Tate is 10 months old today...at 10 months, he can:
  • wave
  • clap and do pat-a-cake
  • play peek-a-boo over and over and over
  • drink from a cup (well, sort of...he also likes watching the liquids pour out of the cup and onto the floor.)
  • pull the hair of everyone he comes in contact with.
He also has mastered the milestone of manipulating the grandparents. Observe: 

I love banging my spoon on the table at restaurants!!


Who took my spoon!?!?!


Now that I know how to hug, I will use it to make up with Big Guy and maybe he will read that book to me. 


Now that's more like it. 


Hey, you think Mia could join us? 


Piece of cake, people. I've got them wrapped around my finger. 


This is the life...

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Tate Loves Maracas

Tate's favorite toys, by a mile, are the maracas I got in San Antonio. He has a whole basket of toys to choose from, and he usually picks the maracas. The other day I heard their rattling getting closer...and closer...and I knew Tate must be crawling with them. Here he goes from room to room, never letting go of the maracas...


video

Friday, August 15, 2008

Elvis lives

Today is the anniversary of the King's "alleged" death. In Memphis it is celebrated with a week of activities known as Death Week. (OK, the official name is "Elvis Week," but everyone in Memphis calls it Death Week.)


We couldn't let this holiday pass without a tribute. We've been listening to Elvis and eating peanut butter and banana sandwiches in his honor. (Peanut butter for me, bananas for Tate).






Practicing his Elvis moves.



Baby Proofing question

I have a question for my fellow moms, and I don't want to post it on one of those motherhood message boards because every answer, no matter what the question, always involves breastfeeding.



So, my question: Does anyone know how to keep a kid out of the pet food bowls? I've babyproofed everything, but can't figure out how to keep the cat food bowls accessible to the cats but inaccessible to Tater. And he seems drawn to it every time we are in the kitchen.



Any ideas? And I am not accepting the answer "if you still breastfed him, he wouldn't be interested in cat food." Nor will I accept anyone saying "just put him in the pet crate," and by "anyone," I mean Big Guy.

Thursday, August 14, 2008

In Praise of Stay-at-home Moms

I took today and Friday off to hang out with Tate. My main goal today was to go to the Kimbell Art Museum with him. Last night I thought to myself, "I'll sleep in as long as Tate will let me, and then we'll get up, get ready and be at the Kimbell when it opens at 10 a.m. so we can be back in time for his early afternoon nap." Seems easy enough. 

But yes, it's 11:30 a.m., and I'm still at home. Here's how the day has gone so far: Tate wakes up at 6 a.m., a full hour earlier than normal. So much for sleeping in. Oh well, that just means I have more time to make sure I'm out of the house by 9:30, right? Wrong.  

After eating and playing for a bit, he seems sleepy. I try to put him down for a short nap so I can get ready (figuring he usually sleeps during the 30 minute drive to work at this same time). Tate is not interested in napping and screams every time I leave the room to go get ready. So I decide to get him ready. As I'm dressing him I remember that we didn't give him a bath last night. OK, off to bath. I give him a quick bath, get him dressed. He's rubbing his eyes. Great! He's ready for a short nap. Back in the crib. Wrong. Not interested again. Finally, I pop in a Baby Einstein, put him in the exersaucer and run to my room to get ready, knowing I have exactly 20 minutes until Baby Einstein is over. I get ready in lightning speed. OK, time to go. 

But wait, it's time for him to eat again. OK, give him a bottle. He finishes the bottle. Great, time to go finally. I put him in his high chair while I pack his diaper bag. I pack it up (which means several trips up and down my stairs for things I forgot),  put it in the car. Load the stroller in the trunk. We're ready! I just need to go get Tate out of his highchair. I go back inside.

He's sound asleep in his highchair. Snoring a little, even. 

So here I sit for more than hour, waiting for him to wake up. My schedule for today is blown. And I'm exhausted. 

I don't know how stay-at-home moms do it! 

Sunday, August 10, 2008

Curls and Teeth

Not much new to report, so thought I'd share some pictures of Tate's curling hair and crazy teeth.

Frat boy! Check out the curls behind his ear. 


Tate's two front teeth haven't come in yet, but the ones to either side have, giving him a vampire look. I tried to find a non-creepy picture of Dracula to do a "Separated at Birth" feature, but alas, Dracula just doesn't look right next to my sweet boy. But once those teeth come in a little more, he may be ready for a "Separated at Birth" with this guy: 

Monday, August 4, 2008

Testing Mobile Blogging

I am testing the mobile blogging feature that lets me post from my BlackBerry. If this works, it could be real trouble...

Sunday, August 3, 2008

I'll Never...

This weekend we re-arranged the furniture in our TV room to make it more Tate-friendly. The new look will definitely not get us into Architectural Digest, but it is more functional. This is only the latest in a series of compromises I've made and promises I've broken since having Tate. For example...

1. My house will never be taken over by baby stuff.
I thought about this promise this morning as I tripped over the xylophone in the kitchen and nearly fell into the pack-n-play in the breakfast room. I breathed a sigh of relief as I maneuvered around the swing in our living room to get to the back door, which was blocked by the exersaucer.

2. My child will never throw a fit in a restaurant.
Actually, his cry is very sweet. I don't think it bothers anyone.

3. My child will not watch TV until he's two.

4. My child will never go out in public barefoot.


Ok, so I've broken all of these promises, but I swear I will never play DVDs on road trips, never buy a mini-van or SUV, and never let my kid wear jeans to church. Never.

But in my defense, how can you resist this guy?