You Better Watch Out

When we decorated the tree, I made sure to put some Isaac-friendly ornaments on the bottom.  His favorite seems to be a thin crocheted Santa that reminds me of my dad's old Santa that always occupied a place of pride on our family tree.

Isaac's method of cherishing his Santa is a bit different:

Minding his own business when--out of the corner of his eye...

Come 'ere, Santa!

Let's get you off that tree.

This is right before Isaac stuffs him in his mouth.

I don't know if this constitutes being naughty or nice.

This is just to say

I haven't been ably to take any good videos of Isaac lately.  He's a total ham for the camera, and as soon as he notices that it's on, he goes for it.

Grunge or Lumberjack?

Being a first-time mom with a time-consuming job isn't exactly conducive to style (and I've never been fashionista--I'll leave that in the capable hands of my sister.).  But I was thrilled to see the comeback of the flannel shirt this season; it reminded me so much of the early 90s, when everyone in my middle-school wore Docs and flannel.  I snatched up shirts for me and the boys when I was at Target (told you I wasn't a fashionista), and I have to say my husband and son look completely adorable:

Then David pointed out to me that flannel never goes out of style in our current location--he thinks Isaac looks more like a woodsman or farmer than an 90s rocker.  

 
I agree--it's definitely ambiguous: I mean, is Isaac raising his fist here, ready to rock?  Or is he wielding an imaginary axe, ready to chop down trees?  Is it lumberjack chic or grunge?  Oh well, nevermind.

You'll Always Be My Baby

Don't laugh, but David and I have been lamenting the fact that Isaac doesn't seem like a baby anymore.  I know, he's only eight months old.  But Isaac's getting more and more independent, and as amazing as it is to see him grow up and develop, it feels a little bittersweet when, say, he doesn't really like to be held anymore.  It almost seems ludicrous to hold and rock him like a baby--look how big he is!

He's obviously not to thrilled to be in Mama's arms either.  Look at that expression; it generally precedes a bunch of squirming and twisting so that he can get on the floor and explore.

But that very night, I was pleasantly surprised when Isaac decided that cuddling with Mama might not be the worst thing ever--especially when she has fun hair to grab and pull! 

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Sandra Cisneros has this great story called "Eleven" (I promise, adoring fans in Texas, this will relate to Isaac), in which the young girl protagonist explains that "when you're eleven, you're also ten, and nine, and eight, and seven, and six, and five, and four, and three, and two, and one."  It's a sad story from the girl's perspective--she wants to feel like she's growing up but instead is treated like a little kid--but from a parent's perspective I really appreciate the idea.  In some ways, Isaac will always be my little one-week old, who gazed up at me with wide eyes and softly, questioningly grunted for more milk.  He'll always be my four-month old who refused to nap except on my lap or Daddy's.  And I'm sure in a few months from now--let along decades from now--he's still be my sweet little eight-month old who's so eager for independence but crawls after me the second I leave his sight.  And there's something really comforting in that idea.

Baby, It's Cold Outside!

We've had a snowstorm the last two weekends--in fact, this weekend, we had blizzard-like conditions.  Despite my dislike of winter, I was excited to take Isaac outside and show him snow.  I dressed him in his bear suit--which was the warmest thing I could think of--and off we went, into the wilderness of the front yard.

Isaac was not impressed.  I don't know if you can tell in this photo, but his entire body is rigid--whether from the cold or out of hatred for the bear suit (which restricts his movements), I can't tell.  But his general unhappiness shines through.

We quickly went inside after being out for about five minutes (Daddy stayed out to clear off the car).  I thought we'd try a second time this weekend, and I dressed him in his new puffy coat, recently acquired at the nearby thrift store, which just so happens to match mine.  Isaac wasn't too enthusiastic.
 

 

The three of us went out into the snow, and Daddy held Isaac--I thought maybe laboring in the snow was a masculine activity.

You can see a hint of a smile in this last photo--Isaac's helpless to Daddy's tickle fingers.  However, we had to concede defeat: just like his mama, Isaac is not a fan of winter.

However, he is a fan of baths--with some hot water, we can make the bathroom a steamy, tropical getaway.  Here's our little shark baby.

Good thing he's a friendly, cuddly shark baby!

Oh Christmas Tree

Last week, Isaac and I went out to buy the best Christmas tree that Walmart had to offer.  David and I agreed that colored lights were more magical, but unfortunately in the process of trying to stuff a seven-foot tree, a car seat, and my child into an uncooperative cart (like one of those seventh-grade math problems come back to haunt me), I picked up the wrong one and was too exhausted to exchange it once we got home.  Nevertheless, Isaac was entranced by the tree.  When he woke up from his afternoon nap--Walmart is tiring!--we had a surprise waiting for him:

We turned off all the lights before lighting the Christmas tree in order to be even more dramatic.  Isaac was quite impressed by all the tiny, shiny, glowing lights.  He kept on wanting to grab them and stuff them in his mouth. 

I love how these photos turned out, but maybe favorite one is with the lights on and Isaac, with his red cheeks and open mouth, staring in awe at the top of the tree.

David and I are so excited to share the holiday season with our bouncing baby boy.  Happy thoughts to everyone during this magical time of year.

Blueberry Hill

I spent this past weekend cooking up some new batches of baby food--barley, apricots, chickpeas, etc.  One of Isaac's favorites is the superfood blueberries.  David thought it was cruel and unusual punishment for Isaac to have to wait until the food froze, so he took the spatula from the puree, much to our son's delight.

I predict dinnertime is going to get a bit messier...

David thinks that Isaac looks like a little baby Joker in this last photo.