Oh boy. He really knows how to mix things up a bit, that H. Six days shy of turning one, he's decided to go ahead and drop that second nap, which quite frankly, has remained elusive the last month or so anyway. He's also decided that he likes to get up earlier, and then nap later, because hey--he's almost one. You can't fence him in. He has two molars coming in, so he's been waking in presumed agony in the middle of the night, and the Mr. and I are just getting more and more tired and cranky. But at least we don't have four-pronged chiclets drumming their way through our gums.
We are also at that point in babyhood with H. where even though he's still technically a baby, he's supposed to know certain things. Like, it's not okay to bite Mommy. Or pinch her. Or that when you ask, "How big is Baby H.?" he's supposed to raise his arms up as if to say SO BIG...and NOT lay his head down and shut his eyes. Or when you ask, "What does the sheep say?" one or both of you is supposed to say "Baaaaaaa-aaa--aaa." Instead one or both of you ends up crying.
When he turns 1, we'll stop the formula and put him on breast milk. Just kidding. He'll be switching to whole milk and presumably have less bottles. And eventually but also presumably stop the bottles and switch to a cup. But then I'll lose moments like the one that happened today, where the not-napping boy-baby gulped down a whole bottle, pushed it away from his mouth and began to snore. He fell asleep there on my chest, just as he did when he was 6 months old. I'm going to miss that. I mean, it's just not the same with a sippy cup.
But what we lose in the passage from babydom, I guess we gain in their capacity to understand as a toddler. After he pinched me for the umpteenth time today, and I said in my best SuperNanny voice, "Do not do that. That hurts Mommy and you may not do that anymore. It's not asseptible!" he did a miraculous thing. He wrapped his arms tightly around my neck and put his head down on my shoulder as if to say, "I'm sorry." He's in a kind of limbo. Old enough to understand, but still too young to resist the impulse. And I would be lying if I said that I didn't secretly wish that he'd pinch me again if only to get the make-up hug afterwards.
And then there's this--probably the best example of the in-between we're straddling. The place where he knows something more is expected of him and yet he's not quite sure how to do it. Every morning we say goodbye to Mr. Fits when he leaves for work. I hold H. and give his daddy a kiss. We say See you later Daddy. Daddy asks for a kiss from H. and never gets one. But this morning, I was holding H. and kissed Mr. Fits goodbye. H. decided he wanted a piece of that. So when Daddy asked for his kiss, H. lunged at him with an open mouth. Then I asked for a kiss. Same thing. Bright red, slippery open mouth coming at me. And we stood there like that, laughing at how he kissed but also so overjoyed that he knew how to return our love in a way we could see. I suppose that no matter how old he gets or how many new things he learns, that's all we'll ever really want from him.
