UP!

I've neglected this blog for a few weeks. In baby time, a few weeks can seem like years in terms of new talents being developed. Paxton astonishes me daily with his skills. Today, I put him in his highchair and asked him if he wanted some cheese. He promptly did the sign for "cheese" perfectly. We haven't practiced it in at least a week, yet he still remembers with perfect precision. He's now learning the signs for "shoes" and "socks". I need to do a bit of studying on my own so I can continue to challenge him. He learns so quickly that I have trouble keeping up.

Paxton is now walking so well that I am wondering how we ever lived before he could get around on his own. I can load my arms with all of his toys and the diaper bag and he will toddle after me from the playground to the car. At clients' houses, he does laps around their living space, making himself right at home, digging through drawers and hiding remote controls.

I have gotten used to leaving the back door open to the deck and letting him go outside or in. Our deck is one story up, as our house is built on the side of a hill, and there is an upper deck with an outdoor staircase that is, technically, three stories up. We have a gate blocking the stairs that go down to the yard. That's been there for ages to keep the dogs from escaping. For our purposes, it's a pretty safe play area. Until last week. I came into the guest room to check my e-mail and, after a few minutes, wandered out into the living room playfully calling "where's my baby?" I looked in the laundry room, on the back porch, behind the couch, and began to panic as he was nowhere. I ran out back and there, on the landing between the two upper flights of stairs, stood my baby boy. Come to my house and you'll get an idea of just how scary that notion is. It's HIGH. And it jiggles. I tried not to show my fear and told him what a clever and brave little guy he was before I grabbed him and brought him back inside. That's the last time he'll have access to the back porch without my vigilant watch. I was less nervous than Chris, when I told him the story. He promptly bought a gate and installed it before he left this weekend for a business trip in Chicago.

Speaking of that business trip, this is the first time that Paxton and I have been left to our own devices for more than a day or two. We're on our third full day on our own now. While I was a little worried about being the solo parent for an extended period of time, we've been so jam-packed with things to do that we've hardly had time to breathe, let alone fret. Saturday, Paxton, my mom and I did some shopping together, then had a nice dinner. I also squeezed in four pet sitting jobs, with Paxton in-tow. He's been a great sport about that. I always stress about bringing him along, but once we jump in, things usually go pretty smoothly.

Yesterday, my mom and I had tickets to see the Broadway Across America performance of Legally Blonde: the Musical. Since Chris' trip was unexpected, I had to find someone to keep Paxton while we were at the show. I've been meaning to ask my friend Sarah's mom, Michelle, if she would watch him sometime, just because he's almost never away from me or Chris, and if I trust anyone to keep Paxton safe and happy, it's Michelle. Sarah has two children of her own, and Michelle is a doting grandma. When I was pregnant, Michelle talked to Paxton in my belly every time I saw her, wanting him to get used to her voice. She's adorable and I knew nothing Paxton could do would phase her. I was so right. When I left, he barely looked up from the toys she had offered him. When I called during intermission, he was happily napping after eating every bite of the food I'd left him. When I picked him up, he glanced up momentarily, said "truck" in explanation of his distraction, and went on rolling the truck around the living room. He was happy as a clam. I loved hearing Michelle's stories about what they did together. And I felt like I'd crossed a necessary bridge toward raising a child. One tiny little thread of that apron string was snipped.

Paxton is obsessed with trucks. We can't drive a mile without him pointing out dozens of them. I'm trying to get him to learn that there are also "cars", "vans", "SUVs", and "buses" (to name a few), just so I can hear a word other than "truck". Of course, it still sounds like he's saying "cuck", which is a step cleaner than what he used to call them. Ahem. The only thing that rivals his love of trucks is his adoration of music. If he doesn't, in some way, incorporate music into his adult life, I'll be shocked. He and Chris will sit in Chris' office for long periods of time, playing the drums. The first toys to come off the shelf every day are Paxton's instruments. He'll wander around with a drumstick and a tamborine, like he's leading an invisible, makeshift marching band. In the car, he tries to sing along with the radio. Since the only melodic sound he knows so far is the noise he makes when he says "UP, dooooooooooown, UP, dooooooooooown", he says that over and over like he's singing. When a hip-hop song comes on the radio, he clicks his tongue like he's beat boxing. I decide which station to stop on based on which song gets him dancing in his carseat. The kid is in full control.

Thank God he's a benevolent dictator, because in music class this morning, he was given power he's never known before. We do different things in music class each week. This week, we had wooden sticks that we use to drum on the floor or to tap together into a rhythm. Paxton LOVES them. Drumming is his everything. He plopped himself down in the middle of the circle of kids and parents and went into his little drumming zone. Our teacher, Petra, is really good at letting the kids be involved in making up fun new lyrics to song or deciding what movement we'll do. Paxton is one of the younger kids in class, so he isn't quick to make suggestions, as you may imagine. But while we were drumming, he kept throwing his hands over his head and saying "UP!". Petra told us all to follow Paxton's lead. With a 13-month-old instructing us, we all drummed on the floor and then threw our hands "UP!". Then we would all hit our sticks together and throw our hands "UP!". It took Paxton a minute or two to realize that we were all doing what he told us to. Once he realized his power, he LOVED it. It was the cutest thing ever. Later, when we did a class jam session, he kept looking at everyone and commanding "UP", but no one could hear him. He seemed confused at how quickly his power had slipped away.

He is supposed to be napping right now, but I hear him cooing in his crib, over the monitor. I suppose I should use this time to shower, since it's been a few days and it's starting to show. He's likely to demand I come "UP" and get him soon, so I'll close. Until next time...