Fearless. Stubborn. Social.
This is how I would describe my son as he’s gearing up to turn one.
He is growing up so very fast and as his personality comes out more and more when is apparent is that he is a bundle of contradictions. He is fearless, regularly receiving accident reports at school for attempting feats outside of his skill level. At the same time, he has been taking steps for a whole month now, but shows very little interest in making walking a full-time thing. He walks mostly when he’s distracted or when he thinks no one is watching. He’s tentative and brash at the same time.
He eats anything, preferring big flavors. No thank you on plain pasta but put a little balsamic vinegar on it, and he will eat it with both hands. Last week he surprised me me chomping down on some red bell pepper and yesterday he wanted to try the prosciutto I was preparing for his birthday party and he loved it. He goes bananas for ice cream but will eat beets every day for lunch.
Yesterday I came into the front room to find Miles standing on the landing of our 2nd floor apartment. My heart stopped as I imagined him trying to “walk” down those stairs (Luckily I got to him in time!). We thought my father-in-law had accidentally left the the door a little open, and Miles took advantage of the opportunity. Then that night Miles goes over to the front door and opens the door. Like it was no big deal. I’m horrified. My husband is proud. Our door is now forever deadbolted.
He laughs when other people are laughing. He is easier to deal with during the “witching hour” before bedtime if a guest comes over. If he’s fussy, I’ll take him to Target because he loves looking at people and flirting with them in the aisles.
His hair is turning course and curly like his Dad’s, with my auburn color. He takes of his socks every single morning on the way to school, no matter how cold it is.
On Friday’s coffee dates are a family affair. Miles and I share an almond croissant. Mike and I chat while Miles tries to stare at people until the give-in and start paying attention to him.
I can’t believe he’s almost a year old. A year ago tomorrow I woke up in labor. Best thing that’s ever happened to me.
Today, my bestie is heading to Europe with her BF for a little vacation. She has been over there a lot in the past few years, and when she does I am always reminded of our trip to Europe.
When we were 15, Erin’s mom took us to Europe for three weeks. (Brave, brave woman for taking two 15-year olds by herself) It was the first time I had been anywhere. And I can tell you honestly, it changed my life. I don’t think it’s possible to travel at that age and not be altered. We went to several countries, but the place that really changed me was Paris. Oh Paris. Every single thing you’ve heard about it is true. It’s the most beautiful, romantic, glorious place I have ever been.
Paris also happened to be the only day Erin and I were left to do whatever we wanted all day. It is my favorite day I have ever had, and I thought I would share the some of it with you.
I remember that we climbed up the Arc de Triomphe, and we navigated the metro. We were free to meander down the cobble stone streets and act like we weren’t tourists. And that was the best part.
For lunch that day, we had been parusing the Champs de Elysees, and stopped for a baguette and pastries from street vendors. And we walked down a street and by happenstance found ourselves in this amazing little garden of trees. It was completely shaded, dark and cool. With lots of little picnic benches strewn about.
We ate lunch under the trees in the shade. And I remember feeling really grown up, like I was getting a glimpse of what it was going to be like when we were older and got to become “grown up” best friends. I don’t remember what we talked about. Probably boys. We probably laughed a little to much, and a little to loudly. After lunch we walked into what we now know to be the main part of the Luxembourg Garden.
Coming from the shade into the garden was like when Dorothy went from black and white Kansas to technicolor Oz.
Parisian’s go to the garden to relax, pay pills, and read.
In the center of the garden there is a huge fountain with little toy sail boats you can push with sticks. You push it, and it floats around until it ultimately crashes into a wall. Our boat was yellow and was number 17. We kept trying to push the boat in the general direction of cute boys, so we’d have an excuse to run over to them, you know, to get the boat.
After lunch we went to the Louvre and wandered the galleries for hours. We went a lot of places that were really amazing that day, but it is the garden that Erin and I remember the most.
Erin has been back several times to Paris, but has never been back to the garden. She says that she always wants to remember the garden the way it was that day– and the way it remains in our memories. And I know that I would never ever want to go back either. It would assuredly lose some of its magic.
Have a wonderful trip Erin. I love you so much and I am so very very lucky to have you as my best friend. I can’t imagine sharing these kind of memories with anyone else.
Ah yes, the Notre Dame Cathedral. The first time I ever heard Erin curse.
Male readers: You are hereby allowed to not read further. But, seriously, its just a vagina doctor story. If you ever get married or have daughters, its probably better that you get used to the word and the idea. Vagina is not a dirty word.
Anywho. I went for my “Well Woman” exam today. And it reminded me of my first OB/GYN appointment. And I thought I would share:
My mom always told me that I would not have to go to the woman doctor as long as I , you know, buisnessed
with a boy. And funny story, when I walked in that evening after , you know, buisnessing
for the first time. My mom KNEW. She point-blank asked me; and I was so shocked by the question, I couldn’t even lie. So, anyhow, if I remember correctly my mom made my first girl-doctor appointment the very next day.
And when I first went, I made my boyfriend go with me. I made him come in with me for the whole thing and he held my hand. I was 17. He stayed up be my head, obviously, but he was there. I am sure he was not super comfortable with being there, but he was there. And I remember thinking that he MUST really love me, because most boys of 17 would not accompany their girl friends to the gyno.
Now I am a pro. And going to the Woman Doctor is way less scary that the dermatologist for cancer screening, or the dentist with his evilness. And today I started a new birth control, because after years of taking the pill, I just reached a point where it was a struggle to remember to take my pill. So now, I have the Nuvaring! And I am kind of excited about it. It is supposed to be better with headaches because the hormones are released gradually the entire time, not daily (like the pill) or monthly (like the shot).