A Kincaid update

This picture makes me laugh because they both have the same expression. I took this when we went huckleberry picking a couple of weeks ago.

Kincaid is now 15 months old. I want to stop and admire this age, because tomorrow he might start teething again or be otherwise difficult for whatever reason.

Right now, though, and generally so far, he is a happy, curious, loving, active little boy and I love him to pieces. He is so much fun and I feel beyond lucky that our circumstances (kind of--if we really owned up to ALL our circumstances I'd be working three jobs and so would Travis, but oh well.) allow me to be home with him. Working from home is difficult and frustrating--I'm feeling ready to teach in a face-to-face classroom again, even if I do keep up the online teaching gig.



That aside, I wanted to share what Kincaid's been up to and how much fun he is at this age. Seasoned mothers tell me that each age seems like the best as you're going through it the first time, and that's fine--I agree. I loved 3 months because it was the end of the true newborn stage. He was more responsive, moving more, and smiling. He spit up less and pooped less often. He was more active and seemed happier.

I loved 5-6 months because he was learning to sit up and look at the world in a new way. He slept a little longer and played a little more. He smiled and laughed and was more able to show his like and dislike of things. He started to eat real food.

I loved 7-9 months because he was trying to crawl and was at a stage where he would just chill with me while I read to him. He was just starting to be interested in stories and hearing my voice read and sing, but not quite adept at turning (or trying to rip) pages. At this point we're in board book only territory.



At 12 months he was fully mobile and loved to be outside (as he still does) and loves his daddy and his doggie. His first real word was "doggie" (oggie.) He was pulling up and cruising around furniture and exploring the different corners of the house. Still generally happy, not much of an eater--too much to do.

Now, at 15 months, he's on the cusp of walking and is so proud of himself when he stands for a long time on his own. He picks up sign language easily which makes life SO much easier for us. For example, just today he crawled over to me, did the sign for "sleep," and laid his head on my lap. So sweet. I took him back to his room, did the naptime routine, and he was down with no trouble. That rarely happens but I'm praying for a trend.

He adores being outdoors and I think he'd go on two hikes a day if we could. Today was rainy and chilly but we did a stroller walk (it has a rain cover) and he was totally content. Being indoors does not suit him one bit. He loves going up and down the stairs, mostly to stand up at the screen door and look outside at the back steps. (We live in a daylight basement so we have two half-flights of stairs leading out of the apartment.) If I let the dog out in the morning but don't "let Kincaid out," he cries and is mad.




I notice that he understands and responds appropriately to many things that I say. When he gets mad and I know why he's mad, I can say, "You're mad because we aren't going outside right now. That is OK; we will go outside after breakfast" and he will stop crying. He is pretty verbal for a boy (according to the stats) and mimics a lot of words. He's still not getting the "D" sound, so "daddy" is "Ah-ee," and "doggie" is "oggie." Mama, however, is loud and clear!

Yes, he still wakes up at night, and yes, he's still nursing, and yes, I'm sure I'll do things differently if I have other kids, but he's my first, and I'm supposed to make mistakes and be naive, right? Besides the fog I've lived in for the past year and a half, I love this kid more than life.

Because of him, I view every person differently, especially my students. Because they are someone's child, I know how special they are. Before I had my own kid, I certainly thought highly of my students and wanted the best for them, but I find that my more difficult students are easier to handle now. Maybe it's because they don't wake me up at 1, 3, 5, and 7 a.m.? (By the way, that's a bad night, but it's not too uncommon, and yes, we're working on it, and no, I won't use the BabyWise method.)




He loves music and I'm currently experimenting with different lullaby CDs from the library, hoping for some magical cure. I like the Putamayo World Lullabies CD the best. So far I know that he does not like "Jesus Loves Me--Fast Asleep!" because he woke up about 30 times the night I played that one. Yes, I turned it off around 2 a.m.

My mom bought him a drum that he loves to hit, and I got him a xylophone that he will bang on as well. I so wish we had a piano, but I will have one again someday. He isn't much of a TV watcher but I put on Sesame Street anyway. I don't buy the "TV lowers your kid's IQ" business. He isn't even watching it, and an hour of TV a day, five days a week is not going to harm anyone. I barely turn the thing on lest I get sucked in to an episode of Martha Steward Living. Who can watch that daytime junk anyway? I'll admit to an occasional viewing of The Today Show, but they're all in such a hurry to tell you about the best ways to serve punch at a party that I get a little overwhelmed. So, we turn on KGLT, our local alternative radio station, (not alternative music, but alternative as in, they don't play the same stuff all the time) and jam out.

He's still kind of scared of the beautiful rocking horse Travis's dad made, but he's intrigued still. He will climb on it and rock it, but he will cry if I put him on it to rock like it's made to be used. Baby steps.

He's kind of over the Johnny Jump-up and I joke about making a run for it from the kitchen to the living room so he can walk around in it. Would that be inhumane? A baby zip-line of sorts? I think it's brilliant personally.

Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever be able to wean him. I have a love-hate relationship with breastfeeding right now. I'm still not back to my usual clothing size, but I'm damn close. I'm easily in a 10 and I'm usually a 6/8ish. I was in a 16 after him, so this is progress, ya'll. It's been a slow but steady loss. I'm convinced these last 10lbs or so aren't going anywhere until I give up breastfeeding. I'm ready, but he is not. I'm hoping that with walking will come lessened interest. I am torn between the theory of child-led weaning and forced weaning. I'm trying a gentle, slow approach. He will go to bed without nursing but wakes up later wanting it. The "don't offer, don't refuse" theory sort of works, except I already know when he's going to ask for it so I usually just offer instead of waiting for the inevitable (loud) request. And no, he doesn't scream, "WANT BOOBIE!!" He just screams. I think the day he screams audible words like that, the game's over, kid.

He loves putting things on his head, and sort of says "hat." He does the sign for hat which clears up any confusion. Anything that stays on his head for a few seconds is a hat. He especially likes my hats, Travis's hats, and kitchen towels.



Well, since he'll probably be up and needing something soon (earlier he woke up and I tried to let him cry for a few minutes thinking he could handle going back to sleep himself--then discovered he desperately needed a diaper change--I always feel guilty when that happens), I'll stop gushing about my cute and wonderful baby boy and go to bed myself. The forecast low is 33 tonight and we don't have the heat on. I might set it to click on at 65 just in case. I can use the baby as an excuse, right? Most of the time I feel quite acclimated to this Montana weather after living in the South my whole life, but when it comes to my house, I like to be warm.