Milestones

Danny hasn't quite been himself lately. I was starting to wonder what on earth was wrong with him and I figured he was just having a really hard time with Alejandro being gone. Then last night I remembered to shove my fingers into the back of his mouth to see if any more teeth were coming in. Remembering things is a challenge lately. Yesterday, as I was headed out the door to go to Matt and Melissa's house, I went upstairs four times and forgot to grab my wedding ring all four times, but grabbed other things instead. I finally decided they wouldn't forget I was married and I could go have Chinese food without my ring.

Anyway, I remembered to feel for teeth. The "aha" that came over me was all-encompassing, as I felt around and found that all four of his first molars are coming in and one of them has already cut through. Well no wonder he's been a grump!

Commence come-apart moment hour. Yeah, I lost it. All of the frustration and emotional exhaustion that I've experienced over being a temporarily-single working mom of a teething 18-month-old (complicated by several other things I've not shared on this blog) came crashing down and I melted into a blither of tears.

Let me just say that Melissa is the kind of friend you want to have around for life. (And I'm sure she will be.) She just hugged me and said I was doing a great job and prayed with me and let me cry. Matt took the two boys and let us be emotional mommies for a bit.

I'm not very good at asking for help. Ok, ok, I royally suck at it. I'm not even gonna' get into why. Suffice it to say that I need to get better at it.

Anyway, Danny seems to be lots better this morning and so am I. Sometimes I wonder if it's just my knowing what his issue is that makes him feel better. It's as though he's just wanting someone to sympathize with him. I can relate to that.

He has done all kinds of fun new things this weekend. Friday afternoon I put him down for his nap at 1pm and got busy packing for an overnight at my college-friend, Catherine's house. (That seems gramatically wrong but I'm too excited to tell the story to fix it.) He played. And played and played. And played. "At least he'll sleep in the car on the two-hour drive north," I thought. Once I was all ready to go, I loaded everything in the car and headed toward his room to get him up and put him in his car seat.

I should've known something was awry. As soon as the door was just a crack open, the worst smell of poop EVER hit me. I walked in and there stood Danny, with the most delighted look on his face, peering at me from his crib, stark naked from the waste down.

"Oh noooooo,"I uttered.

I always wondered if Danny would ever pull the play-with-his-poop stunt. Well, Friday was the day. Fortunately, he didn't actually play with his poop, just his diaper, but it was still pretty gross.

I stepped towards him and with a lively giggle, he thrust his dirty diaper towards me with a pleased look as if to say, "Look what I did Mommy! Isn't it great!?" Oh how I wish I'd had a camera in my hand for that moment. All I could do was laugh. An hour later Danny was bathed and we were in the car on our way north.

At Catherine's house, Danny was delighted to play with his buddies, Luke and Joe.

This was the only picture I got. They sort of didn't stop moving the entire time, so my phone camera didn't really suffice.

On Saturday morning, Danny woke up and looked at me from his pac-n-play before I had gotten anything but a groan out and said, "Mow-en!" (Translation: "Good morning!") He had the perfect inflection and everything! It was too cute.

A few minutes later he asked for a tissue I was using. I gave him a clean one and he wiped his nose with it. He even tried to blow a little, and then wanted me to blow into the same one. I declined. Yesterday he did the same thing and he made a "pbbbbbb" sound with his lips. Apparently he realizes that noise is part of the nose-blowing process.

Oh, this stage can be SO fun! (When he's not upset about his teeth or playing with a dirty diaper, that is.)

Later Saturday morning, Catherine and I took the boys swimming. This was Danny's first time (unless you count Costa Rica when he was six months old). Danny wasn't a huge fan, but the rest of us had fun. He mostly clung to me while his lips turned blue. Oh well. We'll try again sometime. Maybe when Alejandro's back.

Danny LOVES his shoes, especially the ones he doesn't fit into yet, because he can get them on. Yesterday afternoon, he put on and took off (with help) four pairs of shoes. He usually puts them on the right foot, even. He finally settled on a pair of flip flops. In January. That's my boy!

Last night he proved to me once and for all that he understands every single word I'm saying to him.

Matt and Melissa have three stairs that lead from their family room up to their main level. Danny was headed toward them and got up to the top stair before I told him, "No."

He looked at me.

"No," I said more emphatically this time.

He looked at me.

I looked at him.

He looked at me.

Silence.

"I know you know what I'm saying," I said.

He stepped down two stairs.

"All the way."

He came down the last stair.

"Now come on back in here with us."

He walked back around the couch to where we were.

My conversations with him haven taken a dramatic turn for the more mature in the last 12 hours. It amazes me how much he's capable of understanding!

Ok, one more story. This morning he went over to the closed laundry-room door and tapped at it while looking at me. "No," I said, "We're not going to play in there." Five minutes later when he would not give up but persisted without throwing a fit, I asked him what he wanted from inside of there. I opened the door and he went in and got the broom.

I have a feeling our floors are going to be immacately clean soon.

Ok, maybe not. One can only hope.