Buh

Milo's latest word is "buh." Any guesses on what that means? I'll give you a hint: it's a feathered, flying animal that, if early, gets the worm.

He's 14 Months Old

In the last month, Milo has learned a few new words. He says "hi" and "bye" or "byebye." His "hi" makes him sound Southern, like "hiiiyuuuh." He also waves when he says these things. Milo has also learned "Mama." He has said it for a long time, but I never felt like he associated it with me as a name. But now I think he does. He comes over to me, lifts his arms as if he wants to be picked up, and says, "Mama!" So there you have it.

Milo has learned the sign language for "all done" and uses it regularly. It's much better than picking up his plate or throwing his food onto the floor to signal he's done eating.

He bobs along to music and sometimes taps out the beat on his chest or belly.

Milo knows how to go down the stairs. He sits, turns around, and scoots down on his belly. He's really quick, too.

When I say, "May I have that (insert object here), please?" he smiles and hands me the object. When I use this trick to ask for his paci, Andrew is impressed when he just hands it over. I am hoping Milo continues to be so willing as he grows. Occasionally he does not hand over the object, and hesitates, then shakes his head no. But only occasionally.

In the evenings, we have been going for walks. Not with the stroller—Milo walks, too. He follows the sidewalk as far as it will take him. It's pretty fun, just strolling along and letting Milo explore.

Milo is still a good eater. He eats a lot at almost every meal, then his belly just sticks out so round. Andrew calls him "Iron Belly."

Lately, Milo has become fascinated with ceiling fans. He points at them, stares at them, and gets super excited when we turn them on.

Milo is the most easy-going baby in the world. He falls asleep easily, he sleeps through the night, he's playful and fun, he eats well, he's a good cuddler, and he charms everyone he meets.

Milo loves bananas and does a little happy bounce when he knows that someone is peeling one for him.

Milo walks exclusively. I haven't seen him crawl in a long time.

He loves blowing raspberries in the air and using his fingers to make an underwater noise. He is excellent at imitating the sounds we make, like clicking our tongues or popping out our cheeks.

Nana has been taking Milo swimming, and though I haven't seen it, she says that he really likes it and even sticks his face in the water. Crazy.

This week Milo will be officially moved up into the next age classroom at daycare. I'm really sad about this. I know it's probably a good thing. He'll like playing with kids that are a little older. But I just don't know his new teachers, and I don't know what it's going to be like, and Idon'twantmybabytogrowupwaaaaaaahhhhh.

The End of an Era

Milo has officially weaned.

Sometime last week he started to seem less interested in nursing. We'd sit down together, I'd lift my shirt and he'd rest in the crook of my arm, but would only nurse for a moment. I'd try a few times, and he might show a little interest, but after just a few minutes he'd squirm and wiggle down off my lap. After a couple days of this, he refused to even take my breast at all.

Three more days of attempted nursing, and not once did he even have a taste. Then we went to Springfield for an overnight, and it was all over. The night we returned, I didn't even try to get him to nurse. And he didn't miss it.

This evening Milo and I read three books and snuggled and rocked before he went to bed, and even that snuggly closeness didn't tempt him to nurse. So I'm calling it. Stick a fork in us, because we're done.

This is the way I hoped it would end. On Milo's timetable, I mean. But I'm still kind of bummed. Breastfeeding was perhaps the most difficult thing I've ever done, physically, mentally, and emotionally. I should be thrilled that it's over. But I'm sad. My baby doesn't need me anymore.

A Mother's Day Letter

Dear Milo,

This Sunday will be our second Mother’s Day together. Last year you were awfully tiny on Mother’s Day—only seven weeks old. And as it turned out, you pretty much cried the entire day. (Was it because we dressed you in your sweater vest? Sorry about that. But you should know that as your mother, I cannot help myself.) So even with the wonderful breakfast your daddy made for me and the amazing necklace (which I wear very frequently), all that crying you did really put a damper on the day.

This year is going to be a lot different—in ways both good and bad. The good? You are much older, and tend to do less crying. And when you do cry, we can usually fix it with snuggles or food. But the bad—I will not be spending the first two-thirds of the day with you. We are going to a wedding in another town, and you will be spending the night with Grandma Susan and Grandpa Russ. (Remember to wish Grandma a happy mother’s day!)

I can’t tell you how bummed I was when I realized that we’d be driving back to town on Mother’s Day. I was so looking forward to playing with you and spending some fun time together. I thought maybe we’d go to the park or go get frozen yogurt or something. I know you don’t really know that it is a special day, so we will just have to do those things some other time. But I’ll be wishing I was with you.

You are so very special to me. I’m so glad I am your mama. You are more fun than I ever could have imagined. I love your laugh and the way you bounce in your seat. I love tickling your chubby baby thighs and the way you tried to slip me the tongue when I kissed you. I’ve never laughed so hard. I even love the way you take partially chewed-up food out of your mouth and offer it to me. It’s very generous of you.

When you were still growing inside my belly, people would tell me that they couldn’t really describe what it was like to have a kid. You just had to experience it. And, well. They were right. How can you explain the way you love a person who has peed on your face (and his own), vomited in your hair, pooped in your arms, and screamed in your ear? Why do you love a person who breaks your heart when you have to leave him with someone else for a few hours, then turns around and breaks your heart again when you return and he doesn’t want to go to you? There’s simply no explaining it.

Milo, there is nothing you could ever do that would make me love you less. I hope you know that. Thanks for all your hugs and smooches. You’re amazing.

Love,
Mama