Hooray for Fall!

They did it, they did it!

I can hardly even practically believe it. But my mom and dad both did it - they crossed the finish line of the ING NYC Marathon! Official times:

Mom: 4:11:40

Dad: 5:09:13

My Grandpa, Bobelepie and my great Uncle Moishe all flew in for the occasion to experience the collective high that is marathon mania in New York. And my Bobelepie (mom's mom) worked off years of guilt missing high-school track meets by standing out in the cold in multiple locations to cheer my parents on. A victory for all. Most importantly, no more long training runs - which means I can take back my Sundays with mom and dad. Harrumph.

Marathon Eve

Happy Halloween, v2

While some mistook me for a dragon this year, I was actually a Stegosaurus. We all know dragons are fictitious, though some might argue (especially some nutjobs running for office this year, including one Levi Johnston) that Stegosauruses are fictitious too. Not so. Stegosauruses are very, very real.

Longest Lag EV.er.

Oy. It's been so long since I've written, my computer didn't even remember my blogger password. Several dramatic things have happened over the past few months. I shall enumerate here:

1. I’M WALKING! That’s right. On September 6th I started walking – as in head and chin up, shoulders out, with unabashed confidence. Some might even call it a swagger. I’d been flirting with the idea for months, teasing people with the notion that I’d actually be an early walker. Hard to say why I waited so long to stop cruising (I’ll leave that to the pediatric neuro-pyschologists), but suffice it to say my parents looked like jumping, screaming monkeys when they first saw me do it. That was kinda funny to watch, so I just kept on, and here we are. We would have documented this milestone much earlier, were it not for my mom’s obsession with capturing the moment with just the right shot. Needless to say, that shot never emerged, and now, lo and behold, it’s almost November. But I’m WALKING!

2. I’m also biking. To accompany my swanky new trike (pictured below), my dad just got me this sweet duck helmet (pictured above), so now I’m set – even though I’m not supposed to get on this thing ‘til I’m two. (What can I say? Once you advance, you just advance...)

3. Speaking of advanced, check out my new trick (another thing I'm not supposed to be on, but my mom saw the fearlessness in my eyes, so, out of sheer ignorance, she let me try it out).

3. (I know, we're on #4, but I can't get the numbers to switch.) My Bube and Zede made the maybe not-so-annual journey across the world to visit me. It was fantastic. They really mastered the art of play and nappy changes, and we got to spend a lot of QT together since my parents have been outsourcing my childcare while they tackle long training runs for the NYC Marathon (one more week!) {Aside: I must say, while I’m thrilled for them (assuming they make it to the finish), it’s been quite the disruption to my routine, and I’ve been a rather stoic champ about it. Sure, I may lose my cool every now and again (I recognize the signs, the gear, the AM routine before they walk out the door), but then, invariably, I pull it together…} To mark my Bubbe and Zede's visit all the way from Oz, my great North American Grandpa and my Bobelepie flew up from Memphis for a gigantic family reunion. (It’s odd, isn't it, that in-laws can like each other that much?) I got a crazy amount of attention that weekend. We even had a giant babysitting session when all four grandparents took care of me for hours while my parents went on a long training run. When my mom returned to the apartment, she walked into this madness - my Zede teaching my Bobelepie some Tai Chi.

4. (I know, it's #5, stay with me....) My parents have begun the prechool tour insanity. They’ve only looked at one so far, Beansprouts, whose sole criteria for admission, it seems, is just plain dumb luck (130 families clamboring for 13 spots for full-time 2s). Do I smell a market opportunity? Who knows what we’ll do yet, but at the very least, I've got my photo ready for the admissions app. C'mon Beansprouts, look at this face. How could you not let me in?

4. (No idea what's happened here - but we're on #6.) Here’s a big one. Chana, my greatest (non-parental) companion, who’s been with me since I was just 3 months old and who helped shaped me into the boy I am today, just up and left me, high and dry. (Chana, I know you’re reading this, so I threw that in just for you.) Not really. But she did pack up her things and move to Florida to start a new life. So I know it’s nothing personal. She prepared me a couple weeks beforehand so it could all sink in and then spoiled me with riches before she left - dinosaur puzzles and train tracks and other fun things. I gave her a book chronicling our blissfully smooth 14 months together and about 2400 photos of me (one of them framed to put by her bedside) so she’d never ever ever forget me. Ever. I saw her get a little v’klempt when I gave it to her, which gave me no small amount of satisfaction. The parting just two days ago was sad but subtle (so much so, I’m not even sure it’s really registered yet). My parents are thinking they may need to deal with some sort of delayed reaction (last time she was unexpectedly out for 3 weeks, I broke out in hives), but hopefully the mental and emotional prep has mitigated that. Anyhoo, sad as I am about Chana, I’m super excited about her friend Ira (pronounced eer-uh), who’s coming to take care of me starting Monday.

6. Tomorrow is that much-anticipated day in the neighborhood. As I’ve said before, Halloween in the Slope = Christmas on steroids. I’m going to be a dinosaur. We expect decent visuals, so if all goes well, more soon.

14 Months Old - and fully clothed

Forgive me once again, fair readers, for my long absence. I've been insanely busy cruising, climbing walls, exploring electrical sockets, knocking paintings off walls and trying to make my way into the toilet- albeit unsuccessfully. Given my wild curiosity and rapid fire mobility, my parents finally got their act together and hired Baby Bodyguards to childproof our place, which now looks like some sort of nursery-prison hybrid. Now, to complement my myriad toys in the living room, we've got plastic c0vered doorknobs and not-so-tasteful plastic hooks on cabinets. Somewhere there's a market opportunity for an aesthetically-centered babyproofing business. The guy did have the wisdom to instruct my parents to allow me one drawer that's not in lockdown - filled with innocuous things like tupperware. And as you can see, I've made it my home.

Also, I had the great pleasure of seeing my Autie Roosie, Uncle Alex and cousins Hannah and Max. Not to play favorites or anything, but I had an especially fantastic time bonding man to man with Cousin Max, who took great care of me and fed me lots.

Speaking of relatives visiting, in other news, my blog is at the center of controversy again. My mom got quite a bit of flack from some well-meaning (if not overly anxious) relatives this weekend (who shall remain nameless - hint: sounds like "Shmara") for posting an innocent enough photo of me in the shower at 13 months (said photo below). All it did, my mom and I believe, was capture a representative moment in time. And yet there was all kinds of perv talk going on amongst relatives. "In this age, you can't have that up online." Sure, I get that in theory, but here's the way I see it: My entire posse of followers are beloved friends and family, likely NOT connected to any sickos or pedophiles. And with that, I feel pretty safe. That said, if any of you does indeed have any pervy friends who like to lurk online and check out adorable babes in the buff - (or should you yourself BE one of these pervs), please do let me know STAT, and I'll take it down. Until then, enjoy the more modest photos of me at 14 months.

13 Months old

We are One Giant Birthday Celebration

I can hardly even practically believe it. After months of meticulous planning by all kinds of organized moms (needless to say, mine was not among them ), we held our joint, so collective it was almost Socialist "We are one" Koombaya June Baby Birthday Bash. There we were, me and 16 other kids my age from the neighborhood, each with our respective posses of people, taking over the park, permit and all.

And to top off the day, before I went to bed, I had a special-edition joint skype session with Memphis and Melbourne. I got to talk to all four of my grandparents at once (on different days at the same time!) to tell them about the big event. (They were so excited, they kept talking over each other... and I didn't know where to look first...)

Anyhoo, it was a picture-perfect, blue-sky summer day, and the scene captured so clearly the reason why everyone who lives in Park Slope loves it - and why those who don't, well, don't. The camaraderie, the sing-alongs, the 'we are one' birthday onesies, the cupcakes and party favors and photo shoots, all timed to a tee... It was enough to make some of our guests do the gag reflex (and believe me, they did).

As my mom explained it to me, for some folks, it may have been a little too much Type-A organizing for their liking. But for my mom and dad (neither of whom are stellar planners), experiencing it from the inside, it felt like a fabulous community, one giant tribe of warmth and support for a bunch of clueless moms and dads going on the same wild ride for the first time. It was like they all graduated together from a year-long course on Parenting 101 (clearly, they've got many more courses to go...). And all it took was a $75 fee to join some random listserve. And now, a year later - months since the breast pumps and hooter-hiders have been put away - here we are, moms and babes (and even dads), hanging out with one another by choice. Whoda thunk it? I call it a combo of good people kissed with good luck.

As for the party post-mortem, here's how it went down: As in past cases, our parents acted like complete asses at times (see video below), but overall, the energy was fabulous. Except for when it wasn't. (Again, below). I also snuck in a few swigs of my mom's mimosa, which was not half bad. More here....

One is Fun

Especially when I get to share it with my lady.

Reflections on a Year: Birthday Eve

At this very moment exactly a year ago, my mom was eating her Ciao Bella ice cream (coffee and chocolate flavors combined) on our living room couch, entertaining an old acquaintance from her nomadic backpacker days who'd blown into town. When she got off her rump to get more ice cream, my dad pointed out in some disbelief: "Uh, Mirmy?" And there it was. A massive water spot on the couch. That's when they had a feeling I was coming early.

And now it all makes so much sense. My mom says I just couldn't wait to enter the world. And that I was living up to my nickname - Mr. Curiosity - before I was even born, all too eager to see what was on the other side... I can't help it, it's just how I roll. And I must say, it's been a pretty amazing ride so far. While there's a lot of hype about the comforts of the womb, and our parents spend a lot of time trying to replicate that sensation (especially those first 3 months), I must tell you, now that I'm older and wiser, life outside is INfinitely cooler. It just is. There's just so much more to do and see - and it's just so much fun to learn and be and grow in the world. Especially when there are so many people showering me with accolades and adoration. What's not to like?

People should really relax about this whole aging thing. I mean, if being one year old is anything like these first 12 months, I can't wait for more!

11 Months Old!

Memphis!

Just when my body clock was reacclimating to North American time, I was off to Memphis - to see my grandpa, Bobelepie, Aunty Roosie and a whole lotta friends. More on this soon... I'm falling asleep at the keyboard...

Home again, home again

25 hours (tail winds), 8 bottles of milk, 4 jars of porridge and carrot mash, 9 diapers, and 2 outfit changes later, I'm home. And I slept even less on my journey home from Australia than I did on the way over. Who knew it was possible? 45 minutes of shut-eye from Melbourne to LAX. And I didn't cry a peep.

To avoid repeat episodes of sleeplessness on the way over, shortly after take-off my parents applied some homeopathic remedy (mildly alcoholic) to try to get me to doze off. When they saw no immediate results, they took it upon themselves to double the dosage. All it did was end up getting me drunk (fools), which was readily apparent by my slurred speech and unusually wobbly crawl at the back of the plane. My buzz must've made me less inhibited though, as I made a whole bunch of friends with fellow travelers. One woman was so taken by me, she took me right out of my mom's arms and started showing me off to her family and friends on the plane.

And then, the most remarkable thing happened. Amidst all the hullaballoo, chatting it up with her friends and family, my dummy (er, pacifier for the Americans) flew out of my mouth, and who was there to retrieve it and give it back to me? None other than my cougar friend Jessica! (see post immediately below) We had a fun, surprise reunion on the way home and exchanged tales from our respective holidays. She said she recognized the dummy from the plane ride over and was hoping it belonged to me. Smart girl.

Below, highlights from travel - including the lovely folks at Qantas and my reunion with Jessica.