Matthew started daycare this week - part time for now, and in a week he’ll ramp up to pretty much full time. I love our daycare provider - I kind of wish someone like Dixie were around when I was a kid, because I would have just worshiped the ground Dixie walks on. When we decided to go with Dixie’s day care, I called her and said, “We’d like to join your clan!”

Tuesday, according to Josh, he cried when he dropped him off and cried when he came back to pick him up, as if to say, “You bastard - you totally ditched me here and I had to have fun despite my better judgment!” Wednesday was similar; Thursday he broke into a smile, and today he was cranky as hell, in part because he was wide-awake this morning at 4:15 with an excessively wet diaper. I hate disposables. I can’t wait to get his tush back into cloth.

Last year at this time, I was angsting over I only had one more month to go of maternity leave. I angsted over the seemingly endless days and nights of nursing and growth spurts that drained every ounce of moisture from my body down to my toenails. I angsted over Matthew’s alarming weight and growth (he’s about 30 lbs now, don’t know how tall), and for most of his life, I angsted over his sleep.

Right now, the tide is turning. Matthew’s developing into his own person, which is incredible and fascinating to me - and here I am, writing about it as if my son were the first person, the first child, to ever develop in such a spectacular manner. It’s so much fun to be Matthew’s parent right now. He sometimes smiles so widely I think his face might twist off. When Josh and Matthew meet me at the train station, he gets so excited he chortles. He walks all over the place and even runs a little - although he still looks like he’s had too much beer on a Saturday night. He is insanely curious about everything, and he understands a lot of what we say, which means we really have to clean up and stop calling our dog a slut when she lies flat on her back.

Poor Ava. I told her, when we brought Matthew home for the first time, “Don’t get so damned excited. In a year, you’ll rue the day this sack of potatoes came home with us.” Matthew loves Ava, and the feeling is so obviously mutual - except maybe when the boy literally dives face first into a sleeping dog, in an effort to hug and play. I say again, poor Ava. She’s incredibly good spirited about it, but she loves her boy. I think she’d do just about anything for him.

Stacie posts a rant about Applebee’s stocking up blankets for mothers to nurse their babies. How helpful. How handy. How utterly ridiculous.

(I almost wanted to type “udderly” there)

When Matthew was first born, the first place we ever nursed in was a loud, loud restaurant - Cafe Iberico. Amidst the rounds of tapas we ordered, I balanced a hungry baby, put him to breast, and nursed him. I was so self-conscious, I put his Winnie the Pooh blanket over my shoulder and arm, and created a shield. This only served to make me more self-conscious, and it was hard to see my son’s face as he was being covered up to eat. Ever since then, I’ve gotten a lot more confident in my nursing skills, Matthew’s become a lot more efficient, and I was (and still am) in a location then and now where I can nurse confidently and no one bats an eye. Why?

Because there’s nothing more natural and normal in this world than a mother nursing her young.

Also, Applebee’s sucks, for more than that reason. I hope that mom goes to better restaurants when she heads out next!

Matthew’s down to one nap a day, and for the most part, he’s done really well on it - sleeps nicely and deeply. Except today, when he was asleep for about 15 minutes and then woke up, really angry, pissed off, and exhausted. We weren’t able to get him back to sleep.

But what happens when you’re 13 months old and you missed a nap?

You fall asleep in the middle of dinner…

…while clutching onto a piece of rotini…

…and your baba takes a picture of you…

…and your mama does too.

And then she posts those pictures on the internet.

Other pictures posted today, including a butt shot. He ran away from me while we were getting ready for bathtime. He headed straight for my laptop - this kid is definitely a product of Josh and me.

Babies will not digest certain foods. You find this out in the most disgusting way possible. Those certain foods are corn (expected), brown rice (unexpected).