Jack, 13 months and counting

Jack's favorite foods are:
bananas
carrots
peaches
bagels
raisin bread with jam or peanut butter (MESSY)
pancakes
chicken
applesauce
hot dogs (nitrate-free and cut up, just in case you were worried)
raisins
spaghetti
pizza
cheddar cheese pieces, but not slices
cake, ice cream, cookies, etc. (in moderation)

Jack's most-hated foods are:
carrots
peaches
bagels
raisin bread with jam or with peanut butter (MESSY)
pancakes
chicken
applesauce
hot dogs (nitrate-free and cut up, just in case you were worried)
raisins
pizza
cheddar cheese pieces, but not slices
cake, ice cream, cookies, etc. (in moderation)

In case it's not immediately clear, the only things Jack will eat consistently are bananas and spaghetti. And yes, sometimes with one in each hand. To say he's picky, well-- that just about covers it. We rotate what he's offered throughout the week to try and keep everything in some level of favor, but there are times when he just won't eat anything except a banana and bottles of milk for days.

Little kids just DO that, though. They survive on air in between gorging on everything in sight including that ages old cheerio dug out from behind the couch. For all this appetite confusion, he is a happily growing boy. Even though he's still small for his age, falling around the 7th percentile for height and weight, he's perfectly healthy. I actually kind of like his smallness, just because it makes me feel like I can still enjoy the baby-ness of him a little longer while still having the fun of a near-toddler talking and grabbing and exploring.

And boy does he ever! Nothing in the house is safe. We had to buy a safety gate on practically a moment's notice when he went from being oblivious to the stairs to climbing up three steps and trying to stand up (he can't). Once the stairs were off limits, he turned to conquering the bathroom. We now have to keep the door closed at all times or he will, literally, climb into the toilet bowl. Charming.

Jack says hi, he waves, he smiles and giggles and thinks his sisters are the most wonderful thing in the world. When Kurt comes in the door at the end of the day, Jack crawls over lightening fast and gets up on his knees in front of his daddy, arms reaching high up and firmly crying to be held. He plays on his own, loves books and maracas and spends more time than I'd like blowing on the harmonica and toy recorder.

While he's not walking yet, Jack does push things around standing, lawnmower-style, and has progressed to walking unsteadily while holding only one of my hands. We travel in little gulps around the house through out the day as he tries to find and hold his center. He's almost there, I can just feel it. Because of the heat, he spends most of his time in just a diaper or, if he's feeling fancy, in a onesie. his knees have become rough from the hard floors and I imagine moving on to feet-based travel will be a relief.

He's still our little puppy, too, travelling around all the time with things tightly held between his 6 little teeth: paint brushes, his frog lovey, bagels, bottles, cups, socks, etc. Mostly it's cute and we leave him to it, but today I did draw the line when he came up to me with one of Anna's Crocs tightly between his lips.

My boy is a lover and I'm not bragging (ok, maybe just a little) when I say that I get the lion's share of that affection. He crawls all over me, climbs on me, hugs me, tickles me, dances with me... he loves me. He loves everyone else, too, but for the moment I'm still the special-est. I treasure every wet, slobbery kiss. Well, mostly. Sometimes the slobber is a BIT much.

"Would you like this paint brush? It's only a little drooly."