18 Months: Speak & Say

Our "conversations" with the Bean are lost in translation quite often, but for the most part we have a mutual understanding going on these days. He's in that fun entertaining stage now, able to impress on command and make us look like good parents who don't let him watch looping episodes of "Mickey Mouse Clubhouse" on Saturday morning so we can get more sleep because we stayed up too late watching the new season of "Arrested Development."

Most of his animal sounds were perfected six months ago, so the quizzing has moved on to a more cerebral nature of names, numbers, shapes, and colors...mostly involving trains. 

We are so into the train stage. 
And for some reason, possibly bought while sleep deprived, Thomas' {musical caboose} currently resides in our house. 

...


The List


Apple
Pear
Banana
Berry
Cracker
Orange
Cheese
Meat
Hot
Cold
Brrrr
Chair
Nap
Too Loud
Girl
Boy
Baby
MaMa
DaDa
DeeDee (Special Blanket)
PaPa
BuBa (Grandma)
Uncle
Auntie
{A select few family/friends names, etc}
All Gone
All Done
Eat
Go
Treat
Snack
Ball
Basketball
Baseball
Car
Stroller
Bowl
Movie
Toodles
Train
Bike
Bee
Blocks
Truck
Dump Truck
Sticker
Crayons
Balloon
Giraffe
Oh Wow
Bonk
Uh Oh
Oh Boy
Oh Man
Oh No
What's That
Shoes
Socks
Backpack
Candle
Cookie
Coffee
Cracker
Drink
Dirty
Clean
Thirsty
Bath
Bubble
Tractor
Toast
Water
Juice
Milk
Dinner
More
Please
Thank You
Hi
Bye
Yes
Stairs
Night
Cough
Diaper
Bird
Walrus
Dog
Duck
Bear
Cat
Fish
Leaf
Weed
Flower
Swing
Slide
Cheerios
Vaccum
Coffee
Nose
Ears
Eyes
Head
Toes
Belly Button
Kite
Plane
Toot
Crayons
Circle
Heart
Triangle
Star
Square

and, last but certainly not least, the fan favorite...
"NO!"



xoxo

{Bon Bon}

Full Circle

{he begs to be outside all day every day. barely have enough time in the morning to drink some coffee before he steals my keys and tries to "unlock" the door}

Once the days get hotter and longer, I'm always reminded of one of my earliest memories...

the soft glow of late summer sun sneaking through my frilly polka dot curtains, while grumbling to anyone that would listen, mainly an audience of Barbies and Polly Pockets, that it was too early for bedtime. Eventually, (usually rather quickly), I'd drift off to dream, lulled by the hum of a lawnmower echoing up and down the country road. With a happy ache coursing from the soles of my feet to the hairs on my head.*

The days are hot and long. 

But the years are short. 

I think the Bean will have some good memories from these kinds of days too. 

Definitely the 11PM trip to Salt & Straw.

xoxo

{Bon Bon}

*Growing up, we had a forest and a huge tree fort in our backyard. And the river and pastures and horses and blackberry bushes and chickens and best friends right down the road. Outside all day long, until either lunch or dinner or bandaid time. Or tattletale time because my brother super soaker-ed me in the eye.

Seventeen

{I'm 17 months old, yeahyeahyeah!}

I must've blinked my eyes a few too many times since the Bean was born, because holy H-E Double Hockey Sticks this guy is like a real live person now, complete with thoughts, feelings, colloquialisms, and a train collection and everything! 

My lima bean is sprouting into a green bean, whomp whomp. BUT I am totally 92% ok with it. Really. 

Green beans (toddlers) are waaaaaaay better than lima beans (babies).* 

Besides the 24-7 lima bean snuggling, of course, because nothing is better than that.

Luckily, Mr. Grownup Green Bean still is quite snuggly and still is very much so the finders-keepers of Mama, (so, I guess we'll keep him. sheesh),

meaning, he loves me, and needs me, and must have me RIGHT NOW, and I'm the greatest thing since sliced bread, (Daniel is a very close 2nd, perhaps the greatest thing since sliced gluten free bread).

And he loves sliced bread, sure does. Especially with peanut butter.

He also loves dancing, yelling, whole milk, Mickey Mouse, anything with wheels, brushing his teeth, eating crayons, bubble baths, and the word "no," amongst many other things.

Another favorite pastime continues to be telling other children that they are being "doo woud!" aka "too loud!" (Even though he's being loud. We're trying to teach him what "irony" is. Also, "please" and "thank you")

17 Months going on 87! 

That's our Josiah "Bean" James. 

xoxo

{Bon Bon} 

*In vegetable and human theories. I DO love love LOVE babies. Don't get me wrong. But within that seemingly endless vortex of diapers and feedings from age 0-9months, when they must've sold 1/2 of your brain to the black market while you were in the hospital, and every day it's Mission Impossible: Operation Shower...and we had an easy baby! 

And then you think maybe, just maybe, that was a tiny smile. Yes. That was the 1st one. He actually knows me? He knows me! He thinks I'm funny! 

He LOVES me. 

Right? Baby? 

Hey, eyes up here. 

On the other hand, babies sleep all the time and coo softly in their strollers, instead of dumping applesauce all over your head and leaping out of their cart in the middle of World Market.  

Just embrace the moment. Whatever moment. Whatever time. 

It'll eventually make for some great wedding slideshow blackmail.  

Whyyyyyyyy?!

{books we own}

{books we borrow}

My DIY project this week: 

Restoring valuable tomes from the public library to their original state. 

I'm thinking washi tape and glitter glue could be a nice touch...

xoxo

{Bon Bon}

My Cart is Half Full

{Shopping Before Bean} 

The fox fur could be an exaggeration, but I vaguely remember the styled hair as being a real thing}

{Shopping After Bean}

aka Harry Houdini reincarnated. 

Seriously. 

Our Vegas cart-seat escape show is in the works.

And I'm only 96% sure that's chocolate on my dress.

I used to naively chuckle at the frazzled mothers hustling their offspring through the aisles of...anywhere. 

(basically, any public building with shelves and things to grab off those shelves) 

My Target Retreat bubble of isolation could be popped by so much as the seemingly shrill gurgle of a newborn's coo, and I'd wheel in the opposite direction, 

clicking my judgmental heels towards the fancy-free lanes of life filled with things like, "Fragile," and "Look Don't Touch." 

There were many peaceful, tantrum-free excursions during those years among the land of humans who don't internally combust when they have to put a pair of pink glitter mary-janes back on the shelf. I'll admit that.

But, oh how those years were lonely! 

When I was all by myself, leisurely carting through without a care in the world...

Lonely!

With no one to fling the entire contents of my purse onto the conveyer belt for me. 

Lonely!

Or be the Thelma to my Louise in a Mentos pilfering spree at checkout stands across the state.

Lonely!

Luuuuuuhhhhh-Ohhhhhh-Nnnn-Eeeeee-Leeeeeeey

Funny how something starts sounding unreal the more you say it?

But until you've heard a 16 month old cheer you on as the basket gets filled with "NANAAAAAS" (bananas), "COOOOOKAHHHS" (graham crackers, which he thinks are cookies), and "BASthKKKETBALLS", (oranges/melons/anything round like a basketball), 

well, 

it's just all a bit unreal.

Especially, the love you can have for a toddler wailing in the key of firetruck engine through aisle 8 while you try and calm him down by singing " The Hip Hop Bunny Came Today" from the Easter episode of Dora the Explorer.  

unbelievable. 

Don't worry, I'm laughing at myself too. 

xoxo

{Bon Bon}

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*never go through aisle 8. Or whatever the squeezable fruit puree aisle is in your store.

**or the shoe aisle. Never.Ever. 

***Now I naively chuckle at the mothers of two, three, four, or more kids. 

15 Months: The Real Version

At 15 months old, the Bean is officially that perplexing equation of equal parts baby, toddler, and tornado. 

The kind of tornado whose path leaves no bookshelf unbooked or goldfish cracker uncrackered. 

Probably at least an F3 on the storm scale, or whichever one makes you hide in the bathtub with two chocolate bars and a bottle of coconut rum.

I can't imagine (remember)* what it's like to encompass such a vast amount of unbridled natural energy at my disposal each and every day. 

Morning. Afternoon. Evening. 

The smattering of wooden building blocks meeting hardwood floor means, "Awake," or "Hey You Guys Trying To Have Fun Without Me, Well, I'm Still Here, I'll Be Here Allllllllllll Night, Blalguauealughughdufjjfuerur!"

Sometimes, I have to remind myself that his middle name, the "J", stands for "James" not "Julius Caesar."**

Especially during the reigning dictatorship of 6PM-8:00PM.

His onslaught of macaroni and heavy taxation of patience will not defeat us. 

Not this time, Bean Julius!

8 minutes later...

We have made it to bath time. Shells of our former selves. But, alive. {Have you ever scrubbed thirty noodles off of hardwood floor? Enough to make a grown man cry. I've seen it}

And finally, we're in the home stretch! Pajamas. Toothbrush. Book. Mini meltdown because Daniel looked at him funny. Crib. Door closed. This must be what an IronMan competitor feels like when they crawl through the finish line. Sweaty, wobbly, covered in pee. Yup. 

Then, the strangest thing happens several hours later. After the celebratory champagne has been poured. After we've toppled wearily into bed. 

we look.at photos.of.the bean. 

The same Dictator Bean who has ruled from dawn 'til dusk since November 2012.

The same tornado on legs that pelted an entire table of Starbucks' patrons with cheerios because, "Bean Julius, you cannot drink caramel macchiatos," is not in his manifesto.

It's only been about 3 hours,(of blissful peace and freedom to use the bathroom alone for all), since we last saw him, and yet we can hardly wait to hear those wooden blocks crash on the floor tomorrow morning. And the next, and the next, and the next...

He's got my vote for, forever. 

xoxo

{Bon Bon}

*Legend has it, I would gleefully leap out of my Daisy Kingdom daybed at 6AM on the dot back in my bright-eyed-bushy-tailed years and yell, "Woman, where are my waffles?" My poor parents. 

Let's take a moment of silence for all of those Saturday mornings I took for granted.

**OR "Joule." But I thought that an obscure physics joke might be too much of a stretch, even for me. 

Plus, growing up, we had a cat named Brutus. So, things are really coming full circle in my life...obscure history joke. 

I'm done.

Seriously though, R.I.P Brutus. 

The Bean Wears This

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 Sticky Cheeks: Jam on Hawthorne, Hat: Gap, Sweater: H&M, Chambray: Gap, 
Pants: H&M, Shoes: Zara

And this is why a "Baby Sartorialist," does not exist.

Dressing/documenting toddlers is like herding cats. 

Angry, apple-juice covered, striped sweater-wearing, nap-skipping...cats. 

xoxo

{Bon Bon}

The Bean Wears This

Beanie: H&M, Sweatshirt: H&M, Vest: Old Navy, Pants: H&M, Shoes: Zara

We like to call this the "One Less Lonely Girl" outfit. 

Which is ironic, because there will, indeed, be a lot of lonely girls for quite a long time.

{He's not dating anyone until, oh, 2045} 

Especially after these photos. 

There's a hint of "smolder" in that last one.

Sheesh. 

xoxo

{Bon Bon}

Rewind

This. This is what Bean looked like around this time last year. This!

He was chubby, rotund, and all the best kinds of squishy.

It was his season of life to eat-to-live-to-eat, catch up on seven seasons of Dexter, and ignite a local epidemic of babyious feverious in every grocery store and coffee shop within a 10 mile radius. 

Oh, oh, and we had this great song&dance routine at bedtime. 

 He would pretend to be a big boy and fall asleep in the bassinet, to impress DaDa. 

 And get this, this is the best part. 

I would pretend to be a big girl and put him IN the bassinet. 

Like he wasn't gonna sleep that night, or the next, or the next seventy-four nuzzled in the cocoon of that which is, my left armpit.

ha.ha.ha. 

Comedy gold. 

xoxo

{Bon Bon}

A Bedroom for the Bean

I guess if I had to pick a descriptive theme for the Bean's room, it would be: "Shabby Sports Chic." 

It's full of the less-girly trinkets from my childhood, flea market finds, pieces from travels abroad, and, of course, those wooden toys that are supposedly handmade by Norwegian tree elves known for their mystical educational properties. 

But above all else, stands his basketball hoop and cars and books and animal farm with sheep, cows, pigs, goats, horses, lions, elephants, and a few dinosaurs. 

His room theme is really more like this: "Basically, all things boy, all over the floor, all of the time." 

xoxo

{Bon Bon}