As of 14 months, Mason is on his way to becoming a man. A very opinionated, clingy, little man. When just last month he was grunting in the general direction of what he wanted, now he yells "No!" and throws it if it isn't what he wanted. Not exactly a step forward. But on a kinder note, he can say "peas" and sign please as well. It's a little bit adorable, so he tends to get what he's after. So he seems to have equated "Please" with cake pops and cookies over its actually meaning. But we will take it. He can also sign "more", "again" and say "Mama, Daddy, Emma, Papa, Peppa (as in Peppa Pig - and he snorts like a pig after he says it which has nearly killed me it's so cute), Ball (over and over - think the seagulls in Finding Nemo saying "Mine, mine mine!"), Baby, Uh oh, Oh no (always accompanied by his hands over his ears...he misses his cheeks, heaven knows how), No No (we hear a lot of those three), Jake & Jaxon (his cousins - it just sounds like a bunch of consonants strung together - JKN) and keeps surprising us almost every day with new words.
Recently I asked him where Mason was and he pointed to himself. He loves to say "ball" and "Emma" repeatedly and Emma now means "screentime" instead of my sweet little niece lately. He's obsessed with screens and phones and iPads must be strategically hidden (next to the remotes) when he's awake. Which he is a lot. Not a great napper, this one. In the last little while, he has grown attached to Peppa Pig. He began to sing the theme song in church last week. Darling, but ill timed. Last Sunday, he caught a glimpse of my phone that happens to feature a Peppa Pig app and he nearly had an aneurysm. "Peppa! Peppa! Peppa!" I dangled some chocolate chips that distracted him for a few minutes. Until his Uncle Shawn unsheathed his iPad for the closing hymn and Mason lunged across the pew at him. We may have a problem. It does give me so much needed leverage when it comes to holding him still for a diaper change. Peppa has come in handy more than a few times. So does the Butt Paste - he loves to have lotion or any sort of cream dotted on his hand for him to rub in. For the record, I pretend with the Butt Paste. But he went crazy for my Pumpkin Pecan Waffle lotion from Bath & Body Works at church on Sunday. His skin is as soft as a baby's!
As chubby as he is, he's become a terrible eater lately. If he doesn't want it, he will throw it. If he does want it, he will throw it. And wait for you to pick it up so he can give it a shot. He's fooled me more than a few times by chewing something and holding it in his mouth for long enough for me to prepare his next bite, only to spit it out in exchange for fresh stuff to chew, hold and spit out. I can't tell you the last time he actually consumed a vegetable instead of just letting it linger in his mouth for a while. Hence wailing like a banshee every time he needs to, well, you know. Let's just say his poop face is less endearing than it used to be.
He has chosen walking as his main mode of transportation and is getting rather good at it. He looks like a tiny little toothless drunkard, teetering around unsteadily. He still bear crawls at times, something I will miss greatly when he grows up. He took his first real steps on November 9th, just over a week after his 1st birthday. (The footage is unusable, as the relative on the other end of his steps had a giant hole in the crotch of their pants. It could prove valuable blackmail material, though.) That was great, he had fun, but he continued to bear crawl as it got him from A to B at an alarmingly fast rate. He would walk a bit here and there, but it seems as though just after the New Year, he decided that he was going to be a walker.
And he's gotten a little cocky - he dances, he squats to pick up garbage and binkies and he tries to run, without looking down. He may have learned a lesson today after his first fat lip. He got excited and ran towards Teagan, tripping over something and falling face first into her forehead. I was sitting near them both, but it happened so fast I couldn't do anything. Post impact, they both turned and looked at me and I thought as a few seconds passed that they were okay. Then they shrieked in unison and continued to sob in stereo for a few minutes on my shoulders. Good thing I have two! Teagan has a nice little goose egg on her forehead and Mason left some blood on my shirt which prompted me to look in his mouth...which proved unnecessary when I took a good look at his sweet face and saw a fat lip to match his cheeks. Poor baby. Good thing he still only has two teeth!
As a direct result of being a confident walker (and having spent a month living with a cousin 4 months older than him) Mason is EVERYWHERE. I literally cannot turn around without him getting into something he shouldn't - and knows he shouldn't. He squeals on himself more often than anyone else does, saying "No no!" as he sticks his hand in the garbage or empties the cupboard under the sink or throws food or pulls every last DVD out of its case. Really, it's all he hears from us lately, so naturally, it's what he says. I'm trying to redirect him and encourage him in other worthy pursuits so I can say "Yes! Good job!" from time to time, but he insists on living the life of a rebel.
He has associated a camera (an actual point and shoot SLR, not just a camera phone) with the need to squint and bear his two chiclet teeth in the most darling cheesy face you've ever seen. And it's every time. It's gotten to be rather hilarious. It doesn't have to be pointed at him, necessarily. If it's in the room, Face will bust out his Face and pretty soon, he's become the subject of the photoshoot. This kid. That face.
I say almost daily that he will put me in an early grave with his constant squealing and screaming, but I still don't know what I'd do without him (besides relax for more than a minute at a time). I miss him when he naps (for an hour) and look at pictures of him (and Teagan) before I go to bed to remind myself how lucky I am. He is bright, getting brighter, handsome, getting handsomer and fun, getting funner. See? Even my grammar is struggling as a result of my nerves being shot due to a constant barrage of "Mom! Mom! Mom!" or screaming. Mostly screaming. But when a shrill, ear piercing scream comes out of a face that adorable, it's hard to stay frustrated for long. Love you, Face!
I say almost daily that he will put me in an early grave with his constant squealing and screaming, but I still don't know what I'd do without him (besides relax for more than a minute at a time). I miss him when he naps (for an hour) and look at pictures of him (and Teagan) before I go to bed to remind myself how lucky I am. He is bright, getting brighter, handsome, getting handsomer and fun, getting funner. See? Even my grammar is struggling as a result of my nerves being shot due to a constant barrage of "Mom! Mom! Mom!" or screaming. Mostly screaming. But when a shrill, ear piercing scream comes out of a face that adorable, it's hard to stay frustrated for long. Love you, Face!
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