Today our baby is 18 months old. Asher is miraculous. Precious. My treasure. He also drives me bananas, but I signed on for bananas, so it’s OK.

The person he is today is not the person he was six months ago. Hell, he’s not the person he was last week! The rate of his changing and growing is astounding. When I speak to him, I can see him learning. I can see understanding dawning on his face all the time. It’s truly one of the most beautiful sights I’ve ever observed.

Asher communicates with great skill now, although not with many spoken words (they will come soon). The joy he experiences when he has conveyed his intended meaning is contagious. This morning, he woke up next to me, rubbed his eyes, and signed “I’m hungry. I want to eat apples. Nom. Nom. Nom.” (That was noisy lip-smacking.) Last night, Ian and I went on a date and left the boys with their grandmother and grandfather. When we picked them up later, Grandma went on and on about how well Asher communicates, how easy he is, how delightful it is to know what’s on his mind. ‘Cause he’ll tell ya. No question. He’s stubborn that way. Just sayin’.

Asher’s play has changed, too. In fact, he now plays with Lucas as often as possible. He tags/stumbles after Lucas as his big brother nimbly dodges through the house. They play Chase Me, Chase Me and Asher squeals with delight. They wrestle together; they roughhouse. Asher tickles Lucas to make him laugh, saying (roughly) “diggle, diggle duggle.” He bonks into Lucas and gets in his brother’s face. If Lucas is drawing, Asher wants to draw. If Lucas is building with blocks, Asher wants to build with destroy his brother’s block creations. If Lucas goes outside, Asher desperately wants to go too, preferably to make a bee line to the potting soil and diggin’ dirt. 

Now that Asher is walking, our house looks like a tornado hit it (OK, some of you might laugh and say it always does). What I mean is, Asher doesn’t move from toy to toy or mess to mess any more; now he picks up whatever object catches his very temporary fancy and toddles to some new part of the house and deposits it there, only to pick up something else. At the present time, there are Tinker Toys freakin’ everywhere. For Lucas, they were the perfect means of assembling death-dealing robot gladiators (Oh yes,

thaemos

 , you heard correctly: ROBOT WARS à la Tinker Toys). For Asher, they were colored sticks and wheels that would be far better dispersed evenly throughout the house!

With regard to pottying, Asher still sometimes uses the potty. In fact, recently he walked over to it, sat down, and then peed. Amazing! I think he might be out of diapers by age 2 or 2 and a half, which would be crazy early. (Depending whom you ask.) We only started toilet training Lucas at 2. Asher isn’t very patient. He will happily sign potty, sit down, and immediately stand up again, peering curiously into the bowl to see the pee-pee. Often, he hasn’t waited long enough for there to be any there. When he has done the job, he proudly points, exclaims “Potty!” with his sign, and then waves bye-bye to it when it’s flushed. TMI?  

When Asher picks up a book now, he signs about whatever he sees. So, it’s kind of like watching him comprehend the book or “read” it to you. He loves picking up grown-up paperbacks, too, and spends lots of time flipping the pages with his thumb. Most of the time he is fairly gentle, but every once in a while he’ll attempt a nibble.

And the tantrums have begun. They are performed with great theatricality and seriousness. Asher sometimes flings his body backward without regard to what’s behind him, eyes closed, face contorted in agony. Other times, he gets down on hands and knees, bangs his forehead on the floor, and wails. It’s clearly, “LOOK at me! LOOK at what you’ve done to me!” This display might happen any time we say no to something he wants, or tell him he has to wait, or take something he shouldn’t have away from him, or even if I leave the room without him. 

He is developing an interest in cars and trucks. The weekly visit of the county garbage and recycling trucks is greatly enjoyed by us all. Asher points and whoops and makes little Donald Duck sounds, which I think are meant to mimic the noisy vehicles. We don’t have the toy trains out yet, but it’s really time to show him all those great Thomas the Tank Engine toys we acquired for Lucas. (That reminds me, we should send away for replacements for the ones with the red lead paint via China!) Now Asher picks up a car and makes spitty, raspberry noises while he pushes it around. 

He learns so much from his brother, too. It makes me really wish Lucas wouldn’t laugh uproariously whenever Asher throws food during a meal! Lucas is alternately having a wonderful time with his little brother and a miserable time because Asher gets so much attention. Lucas would like to kung-fu Asher to the ground about 20 times a day, and sometimes manages to get in a few kicks or strategic trippings in when I’m not watching closely. You might say the bloom is off the rose. The honeymoon is over. Reality is, Lucas is sometimes tremendously jealous. (We are actively trying to find ways to make Lucas feel special, loved, admired. It would help if he weren’t such a 6-year-old jerk lately.) It’s hard for Lucas to restrain his anger and resentment, especially when Asher is fairly rough: he hits, bites sometimes, pulls Lucas’s hair, and screams whenever Lucas touches me.

So, anyway, because Asher is now 18 months old, he is very clingy, very demanding, and very much in need of constant supervision. The other day he threw the portable phone into the toilet. He squishes food into his hair. He screams bloody murder if I get within ten feet of my computer. All this is tiresome and frustrating to me. Ian calmly pours me a drink and reminds me that it was like this when Lucas was this age—only I was actually crazier then. Ian reminds me that Asher is jolly most of the time, that he is perfect and clever and funny and healthy and adorable. That in six more months, he will be a different child—easier, more independent, and even more communicative. That we should love every moment, even the exquisitely frustrating ones because he is only a baby NOW. For just this brief moment. 

And that is a miracle.

 
I love you, Bascha.

(Photo by Kellie Jean L., Ian’s sister. We’re so happy here because we were setting off on a date.)

But I did! With my mother’s vast experience and help, I made some pants for Asher. They are all cotton and super-cute. Mom had been making him pants and I asked if she would teach me how. We started working on several new pairs for Asher and several long board-shorts for Lucas (we call them jams because that’s what they were called when my little brother was a boy.)

Mom made these two pairs earlier this summer. Yes, those are fire trucks and ambulances. You know you want some for yourself!

With Mom’s help (and machines), I made these! The greenish ones have leaves and red, yellow, and orange froggies on them. The pair in the back are a black and white verticle stripe. The pair on the right is made of Autism Awareness fabric. (Ian wants some for himself.)

I have four more pairs of pants for Asher in the works. They’re partway done, but are waiting for my mother to return from vacation. I don’t know how to work the serger. 

The jams we made for Lucas have orange flames and motorcycles of various colors on them. We also got some pirate fabric (skull and crossbones, machetes, and compasses) and some cool dino fabric. 

What the fuck?!?!

I’m busting my ass to get said ass to the gym three to four times a week these days. I’m still in the ramping up phase of working out—it’s not exactly a habit yet. (Which means, I’m driving myself on sheer willpower, vanity, and the hopes that I’ll live long enough to see my kids grown up.) I’m running and lifting weights. Today I tried the stairmaster, which is clearly still the master as it was hard! (12 minutes, 42 flights, 55! calories) Then treadmill time, then weights.

Ian has been working out regularly (religiously) for 5 months now. It’s become part of his “lifestyle,” as has eating right. He looks and feels fantastic. Lucas loves joining daddy during his workouts, and even “works out” alongside him, lifting tiny dumbells, jumping around, riding his bike.

We try so hard to be good examples for our kids. We try to model good habits: exercise, healthy foods (organic, locally grown, high protein, low sugar, whole grains, etc.). We do active things with them, like riding bikes and taking walks and swimming.

So, how come today when I take my kids to the gym childcare, the childcare people give Lucas FUCKING CANDY?!

It’s bad enough that the older kids (Lucas’s age group) are allowed to play video games instead of engaging in active play if they want to. There is nothing quite so disturbing as looking through the window and seeing seven or so slack-jawed, staring fat kids under 8 with game controllers in their hands.

This morning, I said to Lucas, “I would be very happy if you spent your time here playing ball and being active instead of watching video games.” He did as I asked. He played basketball. 

But when I arrived to pick him up, he and five other kids were sitting in a circle on the floor around Perky Childcare Worker sucking on lollipops. She proudly explained, “Well, the court was a mess with balls everywhere, and the children helped me clean them up, so I gave them candy.”

Um … Manager? May I have a word with you?

He’s so clever! Continuing the list of signs Asher knows from previous posts here and here   … 

28. grandma
29. shoes
30. music
31. airplane  

(Also, his sign for flower, which I listed before, has now improved to include the ASL sign instead of just sniffing.) 

Lucas now can whistle. He’s been working on this for a year or so. He wants to be a better whistler than his Papa. Not gonna happen. Nobody’s a better whistler than my dad. But hey, the kid’s gotta have dreams. So he’s practicing all the time—in the house, in the car—and it’s driving us batty.

Asher can now walk backward. And, as of Monday, he has learned how to nod yes. “Do you want some meat?” *Nod* It’s funny because it’s something we all take for granted as being a natural, effortless response, but for the last 17.5 months he has only been able to say no. The first nod on Monday was so very slow and deliberate. He paused, thought about what he wanted to do, and slowly moved his head up and down. Ian vividly remembers Lucas’s first nods, so it seemed appropriate to commemorate Asher’s learning the skill.

And last but not least, I can now run on the treadmill for 45 minutes straight—without dying. I spend 5 minutes warming up by walking and usually 5 cooling down, but in the middle I’m running. I run slowly—only 4.2 miles per hour (14.7-minute miles), but I’m doing it. I’ve done it three times this week. No pain, no wheezing. And when I’m done, I feel awesome. Today’s stats: 60 mins total. (5:45:10); 4 miles; 580 calories.

My parents are in Fiji right now, enjoying their 40th anniversary vacation. Yes, on August 10th my folks will have been married for 40 years. After a week in Fiji, they’ll head over to Australia for two weeks. They like it there a lot; I think this will be their third trip to Australia. They say the people are just so, so friendly and it’s kind of like America was about 50 years ago in some respects.

I just got an email from my mom, via Dad’s office. This never happens when they’re traveling, so it’s kind of a treat. Usually they leave for three weeks and I don’t hear a word from them until they call three days before coming home. It sounds like they’re having a great time.

7/25

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I’ve not been feeling up to playing with my photos over the last few weeks. Things are looking up, however and I decided to tackle some projects.

Here are some June moments for posterity …

Parnasus took this shot of Asher playing in Papa and Grandma Sydney’s pool.

   
Two shots from the Red Rose Kindergarten “graduation ceremony” on June 3. The kids going on to first grade were lead by their new teacher, Ms. Duncan, to their new classroom. Parents were invited and we all made an archway for the graduates to walk under. Lucas is in the stripey red and white shirt.

A greenhouse on the Sacramento Waldorf farm.

Grains growing on the farm.

Balboa the Llama.

Peggy O and Willow on our Mommy Baby Class walk through the farm.
 
My budding musicians. Well, Lucas is playing his home-made Guitar Hero game. This is his controller, NOT a REAL guitar.

More photos are on my flickr.