First Haircut

My dad wanted it to happen a long time ago. My mom just didn't think I had enough hair to warrant a cut. But after an unsuccessful month of battling a nasty tangle (some food was stuck in a tuft of hair and refused to wash away despite numerous rinses), my mom relented and took me to her local spot, Lisa Lobue, where I sat in a really cool airplane and had my first haircut - with lots of fanfare, photos and lollipops. I'm pretty pleased with how it turned out.

Another lapse, Another year

And I thought my last lag was bad... Who knew it was possible to break my own sorry record? Consider it a super-extended holiday break (Thanksgiving-President's Day). A new year, 6 blizzards and one historic regime change later (b'bye Mubarak), a few things to note:

1. My vocabulary has quintupled, landing me at around 25 words, including thank you ('hink yeeewwww'), cheesestick ('shiztik') and moo (moo). And that's only English. It occurs to me I've yet to introduce my caretaker extraordinarie, Ira, otherwise known as the Israeli Mary Poppins (with tattoos), who has taught me loads of Hebrew as well. I understand a ridiculous amount more than I can speak - in both languages - and pretty soon my mom's gonna have to stop dropping the F-bomb. (Immediately below: sledding with mom during blizzard #2, saying "shiztik")

2. Despite the chilly temps, I had a fabulous time in Marco Island over the Christmas break, where I got to see my cousins Hannah and Max and had meatballs every night for dinner. I also got to reunite with Chana, my first babysitter, who, at age 26, took an early retirement to Florida. Most importantly, though, we learned the value of blackout shades. I slept a whole hour later every morning thanks to the thick Marriott hotel curtains that made my little sleeping alcove a cozy, cavernous nest. In desperate attempts to replicate these extended sleeping habits at home, my mom ordered custom-cut blackout shades for my bedroom. 3 times. The third (and final?) shades just arrived, and with our luck, they just might fit this time. $214 and 3 shipments later, we're all keeping our fingers crossed that this investment translates into additional hours of sleep.

3. Since my last post, I went through a terrible shrieking phase which got me exiled from a couple of our favorite restaurants in the neighborhood. For five long weeks, my parents were housebound, virtual pariahs. But within this same blogging lapse, I've had time to mature, and I'm proud to say I returned last week to Bar Toto without incident. (pictured below with my new Crackberry. Thanks, Auntie Roosie!)

4. Speaking of growing pains, I hit a kid named Oliver at Tot Shabbat recently, where I was on center stage with 120 eyes on me right next to our guitar singer/songleader. Apparently there was collective wincing and a whole lot of "Oooohhhs" from parents (which, in English means, "Thank gawd that wasn't my kid.") But it wasn't really like that. And since this is my soapbox, let me explain. Truth is, I was (over-)excited to be there - great music, haimish community sing-along - what could be better? In my ebullience, instead of running up to hug Oliver as I'd intended, it came out a push and hit. Simple as that. Luckily, my mom wasn't there, so she (feels she's) free from responsibility. The good news is, Oliver's as crazy as I am, and his parents were delighted that for once he didn't do the hitting. I've since returned to Tot Shabbat, and endeared myself to Oliver and his parents once again.

5. I got waitlisted from Beansprouts 2's program, like all 10 of my fellow 'June baby' comrades (so I don't take it personally - or maybe we all do). The place is appealing not just because it's oversubscribed, somewhat affordable and known for its quality instructors, but because it's in spitting distance from my bedroom. In response to the growing demand, Beansprouts was gracious (stupid?) enough to create a new program for us soon-to-be two year-olds - from 12:30-2:30, otherwise universally known as a two-year old's naptime. Thanks for that. As Isla's mom said, they can suck my beansprout.

6. My parents have spiraled into some sort of delayed reaction guilt cycle and have recently decided to enroll me in all the classes they should have months ago, So I'm now taking gynmastics/tumbling, music, and soon, swimming and arts and crafts. They're all pretty cool, and each experience reinforces what we all already know: I have trouble sitting still and really don't see the point of circle time.

7. I realize I've yet to tell you in detail about my new babysitter Ira. She's fabulous and deserves a post all her own. One day, when I've got an accompanying visual, I'll make a point of that. In the meantime though, rest assured that I'm in amazing, outsourced hands from 8 AM-6 PM Mondays-Fridays, she takes me everywhere, and prepares super healthy yet savory meals for me that include things like barley, spelt and tofu.

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.