Lately, when you sing "Row, Row, Row Your Boat" he starts doing these crazy hand movements like he's in a Madonna Vogue video and it's amazing and hysterical and I have no idea why he does it or where it came from, but it's brilliant! But, for the life of me, he will not do it for the camera. No way, no how, uh-uh. The result: so very many videos of me singing "Row, Row, Row Your Boat" in progressively more frustrated iterations while he just picks at his toes and acts like he doesn't know what the crazy lady behind the camera is going on about.
Things he also does at 14 months of age:
"woofs" like a dog and "roars" like a lion/tiger/dino/whaterverroaringanimalyouputinhisface
(here is his T-Rex roar:)
He's also got quite a few words under his belt now. The usual suspects, "mama", "dada", "hi", and of course, "NO".
But also, "row boat" (not captured on camera), "hot" and his current favorite phrase, "cool, huh"?
Wes says this all the time and Oren has definitely picked it up from him. Oh man, is it cute. It almost killed me the first time he said it. I was afraid I might actually eat him.
I managed to get video of him saying just "cool" while playing with his current favorite (not actually a) toy, the clock.
The other big thing with him right now is major separation anxiety. Which is a first for me, as Wes has been ready to move out of the house since the day he was born. If you know me (and, let's face it, if you're reading this blog, you probably do) between the two of us I always
All and all we figure we have about one more year with him before he finally just packs up his star wars bookbag and hits the open road.
Oren, on ther other hand, is trying to figure out a way to get back inside my uterus. Which is really the only way he will truly ever be comfortable again. He wails when I leave the house but I'm told (by either my relieved family and friends or those tender-hearted, lying masochists) that he usually calms down after a few minutes and some major distractions.
But when I'm home, all bets are off. Generally, he's in my arms/on my hip/up my shirt most of the time. He's even usually cool with being set down and playing or running around as long as I'm nearby. BUT, should I dare walk out of his line of vision at any point, even if it's to retrieve something for him, the entire house is subject to an immediate, relentless and grating whine-cry. You know the one. Which, if I don't stop quickly, escalates into a full on tatrum-crying so hard he's in silent mode-hyperventilation, thing. Me taking a shower is equal to a night in Guantanamo for him. Which is to say, a kind of torcherous horror with no obvious solution.
(Side note: Things that keep me up at night are: global warming, childhood lukemia, Guantanamo Bay, North Korea. In that order.)
What is this? And what do you do about it when your kid demands full access to you at all times?
I know it's only a phase, but for those of you that have been there, how long does this usually last?
How did you cope? Or are you still wearing your 20somethings around in an ergo while you apply makeup or take a pee?
Hit me up in the comments section, you wonderful readers, you.