My Bit of Earth

The Kiddo's Due Date Party

About this time last week, Sweet Husband and I started looking at the calendar to plan a trip to the grandparents' house for the Kid's first birthday.  We're going to be on vacation the week of his actual birthday, and a few phone calls to check other VIPs' schedules (i.e. the grandmas) quickly revealed that it was last weekend or never.  So I sent out invites to his "due date party" (his due date was February 1st, but close enough), and off we went.

In hindsight, that was probably the best thing that could have happened because it gave me absolutely no time to fret about details.  Pizza for dinner?  Hey, the Kid loves pizza!  Cake?  A monkey face made by his Awesome Auntie sounds perfect!  (Ohhh, I think I just gave her a blog name--henceforth, Sweet Husband's sister is "Awesome Auntie".)

And, truth be told, I think much more would have been really overwhelming for the Kid, too.  He had a lot of fun playing with his small cousins.  He enjoyed demanding that every grown-up read Pete the Cat to him at least twice.  But by the time we got to cake, he was pretty over the whole party thing.  He took one little swipe at the chocolate icing and then started to cry.  

He missed out on some fabulous cake, but, not to worry, I didn't let his piece go to waste!

What My Boys Did

Earlier this week, the Kid had a little bout of the stomach flu--the kind where he was basically feeling good, but couldn't go to school.  Sweet Husband and I split the time at home with him, like you do when you both are depended on at work too.

While I get to spend many Saturdays alone with the Kid, Sweet Husband doesn't get as much one-on-one time.  Of course, all three of us would rather the Kiddo be well, but I think both my boys enjoyed the excuse to hang out.  Apparently they spent part of the afternoon practicing walking outside, because I found these pictures on my camera when I got home that evening.

(All pictures by Sweet Husband.)

I was also informed that they watched an episode of Wallace and Gromit and had a poopsplosion and ensuing bath.  (Yes, "poopsplosion" was the official term.)  But I don't think I needed photos of those parts--the best was obviously right here.

The Kiddo's Crib-to-Floor-Bed Transformation

Prior to a few weeks ago, the Kid's crib was in our room.  He always began the night in the crib, but would often end up in our bed as the night went on.  It worked well in fits and spurts, but the bigger he was getting the less often it was working well.  So we decided to set him up in his own room with a new floor bed.

Initially, we just put his crib mattress on the floor.  However, that wasn't completely safe because (with our hardwood floors) the Kid could scoot the mattress around.  Also, with no ledge at all, there were a few nights that he rolled out of bed onto the rug--not a big deal, but not comfortable either.

We decided that just a teeny bit of a frame was necessary.  And, lo and behold, we had a base that was the perfect size--the bottom of the Kid's crib.

To make the frame, Sweet Husband cut the side pieces (which are 8 inch tall boards) to the correct length, then attached them with screws.

He used fairly nice poplar boards so that there would be less sanding.  However, even then, he spent a lot of time getting the edges rounded off and everything perfectly smooth.

We finished it off with a few coats of "spoon oil", which smelled yummy.

The Kid is enjoying his new bed so far.  He likes to get in and out and in and out of it--like, look at me, I can do this!  

That's exactly the point, my dear one, exactly the point.

We Love School So Much, We're Bringing It Home!

The Kiddo and I went to a fun day at his school on Saturday.  

I didn't talk about it here at the time--because I half thought I was just being a crazy, nervous new mama--but we switched to a Montessori daycare as early as we could last Summer.  We were all of two weeks in at the first place when I knew it wasn't going to work.  They were very nice people, but he spent a lot of time sitting in baby holders, being entertained by lights and gizmos.  I could hardly concentrate enough to work for worrying about it, which defeated the purpose entirely.

And Saturday I was reminded, not for the first time, that my gut feeling was so right.  Kiddo loves his school, and I love it too.  

I'm not generally one to jump whole hog into an educational philosophy--just the words "educational philosophy" sound overly precious, don't they?--but this Montessori stuff just makes so much sense to me.  Without even getting into the parts that apply for older children, at his age it's all about making a safe, interesting place for him to explore and then letting him do it.

We spent about a half an hour in his soon-to-be room. (He moves up next month after his birthday...*sigh*.)  He crawled all over the mats and hopped in and out of the ball pit as his teachers and I talked.  He was completely happy to be playing in a space made to his size and where no one had to constantly be hovering behind him to say, "No, no."

It's all actually made me rethink our house a little bit.  We can't make everywhere like his school, but over the past few weeks I've been tweaking things here and there to make at least a few spaces just for the Kid.  And my goal is to make his room pretty much exactly like school--completely safe, his size, and a lot of fun.

In that vein, I was going to show you his new bed tonight.  However, since I've already gone on a bit, I think I'll save it for tomorrow.  It ended up gorgeous--Sweet Husband's doing, not mine--so you'll definitely want to come back!

A Few Moments I Want to Remember

The Kid and I were hanging out in his room late this afternoon.  (It's the place to be these days; all the cool kids play there.)  Me on the floor pillow, him on his bed, both looking up at "his birds".  (That's what we call his origami bird mobile.)  And he turned to me, pursed his little lips, and blew air out, "Phoo, phoo, phoo!"  Which--in the Kid language--means "blow really hard so that the birds will flutter".  So I did.

We went on like that for about twenty minutes.  Him:  Phoo!  Phoo!  Me:  Phhhoooooo!  With lots of giggling and bird fluttering in between.

***

Sunday morning we went for breakfast with our Dear Friends, and decided to go for a walk afterwards.  Just on a lark, we decided to let the Kid walk a bit rather than putting him in his stroller.  

So far, walking for him has been more "party trick" less actual useful mode of transportation.  He only made it a block or so, but he was so proud of himself.  And I have to admit, my mama-heart was a little proud too, to see him walking so big and tall.  (Tall is relative, yes?)

 

(Edited to Add:  And Nice Friend got a video of a little bit of it!)

***

But all of these new activities are tiring.  I remember the days when we would feed and sing and walk him to sleep, and then--barely breathing as we did--very gently lay him in his crib so that he wouldn't wake.  

The past few nights I've been able to, comparatively, almost flop him down.  His arms spread wide and his breathing quickly evens, with only the slightest of whimpers of protest.  I believe "plum tuckered out" is the appropriate term, and--for this sleepy mama--it is a good, good thing.

Of Letters and Pre-Bedtime Entertainment

First, the letters!  If you signed up for Isola's Letter Writing Club and you haven't heard from me about your partner, please email me at blackbird13(at)gmail(dot)com.  I think I got everyone matched up, but if I lost an email please let me know.  I'm so excited to hear how it goes!

I've been sending out emails all evening however, and now my warm bed is calling me.  So for tonight, I leave you with this....

It's completely out of tune, but I love how intent he gets as he pounds the keys!

Glamorous Saturday

(First, hello there, letter writers!  There are more of you than I thought there would be--very exciting!  [If you don't know what I'm talking about see this post.]  I'm still taking names/addresses until midnight Tuesday, so if you want to sign up there is still time.  Also, there were a few people who did not send me their address [I have emailed you back if you are one, otherwise you can assume everything is good].  If you are one of those people, please get back to me 'soon as you can if you still want to play!  On to the news of the day....)

Was chatting with Nice Mom Saturday night, telling her about our day.  She teasingly, sarcastically said something along the lines of, "Sounds like you guys had a glamorous day."

I'll let you be the judge.

We went to breakfast at our favorite place, and then walked Sweet Husband to work.  The Kiddo and I then went to the library, where he discovered the lego table was nice to bang things on and I got a new stack of books.  (Did you all know Margaret George has now done Elizabeth I?  Haven't started it yet, but George is probably my favorite historical fiction author.  Also got Astrid and Veronika, which lots of people seem to be enjoying lately.)

The Kid and I eventually went home and napped and lunched.  Then, when Sweet Husband got home, we all walked to the park, where I pushed the Kid "too high" on the swing.  (He didn't seem to mind, but his dada got a little nervous, so we scaled it back.)  We were going to check out the other equipment when some Big Kids invaded, and everyone with a child under five suddenly left.  I thought we should probably leave too...they did look...well, big.

So we went home again and had a nice little thrown together dinner.  I mixed some leftover beans with some spicy pork.  We couldn't decide if it was a sort-of white chili or "upscale pork and beans"?  Whatever it was, I want to make it again.

 Then I made chicken stock.  Well, I had been making chicken stock all day, but I jarred it up.  

There's always a fine line as to the number of jars in our house.  Some days we have so many that I'm tripping over them, but then it comes time to can tomatoes or make chicken stock and we never have enough.  Saturday night I considered putting out an all call on Facebook, "Free chicken stock, bring your own container!"  

Fortunately it didn't come to that, but it was dicey for a minute there.  I had to draw on every jar and lid in my arsenal, and pack the freezer like a professional...um, freezer packer.

A stack of thrilling new books, a death defying swing, battling over the playground, the drama of my cupboard...and a gourmet meal to boot?  That sounds glamorous to me!  ;)

Eleven Days, Four Teeth, More Eating

The Kid has been on Winter Break for eleven days.  He goes back to school tomorrow.  

When he left his teachers on the evening of the 22nd, he was obviously teething, but he was still "officially" the Toothless Wonder.  He was asking Santa for his two front teeth, remember?

Santa delivered big time, bringing the Kid his four front teeth.

In our childbirth class one night, someone joked about how nice it would be to have a three hour labor.  The teacher grimaced a little and said that, while getting it over quickly might sound good, it's very hard on the who-ha.  (Yes, I just said, "who-ha"--that wasn't actually the word the teacher used, because she is a grown-up and I am not.)

I believe a similar statement can be made about growing teeth.  Popping them out all at once seems like a good plan, but the reality has been painful for the Kid and sleepy for the grown-ups.

But, while it's still dicey, they all seem to be through now.  

We attempted to photograph them for posterity yesterday afternoon....

[Meryl:  "C'mon...say 'ahhh'...ahhhh...ahhh...."]


[Can you see them there?]

One upside of teeth is that--just in the past few days--the Kid has become interested in all sorts of different food.  He's never been a bad eater, but he has his little phases.  (Nice Mom was up to watch him last week, and was amused that he eats his morning egg better if it's cut into even squares.)

But last night he ate dandelion greens--dandelion greens!  Granted they were covered in tomato sauce and cheese, but he has shown himself perfectly capable of picking out the green stuff (and dropping it for Moe) before.  This time he was purposely picking it up and putting it in his mouth.

I had been a little afraid that he would die of scurvy (or some other terrible pirate disease) with as few veggies as it feels like we get in him, but maybe there's hope after all?  At least until the next round of teeth?

What He's Doing Now

Baby milestones are tricky things.  Parents can get very competitive about them, however--in studying the Kiddo's class at school and other friends and family members close to his age, maybe ten kids total--I have come to believe that parents have little to do with it all.  

Granted, I'm looking at a group of pretty "normal" kids, if there is such a thing (healthy parenting, no major health or socioeconomic issues, etc.).  And I think maybe you can encourage different parts of development a bit "in the margins"...but really, my expert theory (cough *sarcasm*) is that they're going to do what they're going to do when they're darn good and ready to do it.

Nonetheless, the comparisons are so interesting.  

For example, every other baby we know (including one that's several months younger than the Kid) has teeth.  While the Kid is still within the normal age range for popping his first toother, I've started calling him "The Toothless Wonder".  And with the holiday season at hand, I have to say, I'm enjoying the obvious joke, "All he wants for Christmas is his two front teeth."

As another example, one of my co-workers has a baby just about three months older than the Kid, who is very similar to him, percentile-wise (both big, tall, hungry-all-the-time lads).  About once a month, I can't help but ask him, "Your kid sleeping through the night yet?"

So far the answer continues to be a rueful "no".  But the day he says "yes" the angels will sing, and--whether I really believe in it or not--a happy countdown will start in my head, "Three more months, three more months...."

With that all said, right now we're working a lot on practicing eating off a plate and not banging our sippy cup or the plate on the table.  Basically, we're trying to teach him that the whole world is not a drum.  But in addition to that...well, see for yourself:

 

The Kid's Personal Cheer Squad

I never realized the extent to which being a mother entailed being an entertainer.  And not just a run-of-the-mill singer or actress...like, a razzle 'em, dazzle 'em circus sideshow act.  Or a cheerleader.  

I actually was a cheerleader for one slightly misguided year in high school.

See, there I am.  But I just did it to be cool...or to get boys...I'm not sure, really.  I never thought it would have any practical application for my later life.

If anything, keeping the Kid entertained in the evenings probably requires even more singing and chanting and clapping than the JV cheer squad.  He's rarely content to just lay quietly while we change him or bathe him.  Nope.  Little guy wants a performance.  A constant performance.

In addition to the-song-that-still-shall-not-be-named, here are some of our favorite songs and rhymes....

• Bill Grogan's Goat
• Down By the Banks of the Hanky Panky
• I'm a Little Teapot
• A Peanut Sat on a Railroad Track

....books that I can now recite perfectly from memory in any situation....

• Chicka Chicka Boom Boom
• First Book of Sushi
• Mangia! Mangia!
• Hola Jalapeno

....and lullabies.

• Dream a Little Dream
• Oh Mr. Moon  (This is one my Grandma used to sing to me.  Her lyrics were just a little different, but we stick to her version even though I have no idea what a "gotten gun" might be.)

What are your favorite "kid" songs and rhymes?

Can't Steal Happiness

My camera is disintigrating before my eyes.  I fell down the stairs (again) with it in my hands the other day, and I fear it may have been the death knell.  It's such a stupid, spoiled, first-world-problem, but it's become like my right arm--I can't imagine life without it.  It's still functional, but it's troubling to have such a formerly good friend now actively working against me.

I've been squirreling away ("stick by stick" as I told someone this weekend) to replace it this Spring, but I'm not quite there yet.  And I won't pretend I've been dealing with it as gracefully as I should; I've been a mopey, old...well....

But then tonight the Kiddo and I had a little photo shoot in front of the Christmas star.  He had swiped a paperwhite, and I was trying to teach him to sniff it.  He didn't understand the concept, but he was happy to giggle at my demonstrations....and the Kid is in love with Christmas lights.

It's a mean town, but I don't care

Try and steal that

Can't steal happiness

--The Weepies

....or drop it on the floor and break it.  ;)

Cloth Diaper Q&A

As you may or may not have noticed, the Kiddo wears cloth diapers.  I've been wanting to write about it for awhile, but felt like I needed to wait until we were more experienced in order to say something useful.  Now that we're nine (nine?) months in, I think we're probably as experienced as we'll ever be!

One note, this is meant as more of an informative post than a persuasive one.  Disposables have their pluses; you will get no argument from me on that.  But I think a lot of people assume they're the only game going and don't even think about cloth.  If you are thinking about cloth and need more information, here are some of my thoughts....

(P.S. If the terms I'm throwing out sound like a foreign language, check out this Terminology Guide.)

1.  What kind do you use?  When I was first learning about cloth diapers I was convinced that we needed a "system" of all one kind of diaper.  But I didn't really know where to start, so we just got one or two of several different kinds--pre-folds, all-in-ones, fitteds, Bum Genius, Fuzzibunz--thinking we'd eventually buy more of the ones we liked.  

Turns out having a system is overrated.  Because the baby is always changing.  When the Kid was little, we had trouble adjusting any all-in-ones to fit him, but we got really good at the pre-folds with covers.  Now that he's bigger, his daycare loves the all-in-one Bum Geniuses and I love the fitted diapers (that I picked up on major sale!) with covers.  And you will never convince me that there is a better night diaper (super-duper-double absorbent 'sposies included) than Libby's HootHoots.  We get very sad on the rare night that we haven't done laundry and don't have one of those!

2.  Do they work?  Yes!  The learning curve at the beginning was steeper than I think it would have been with 'sposies.  If the size isn't right or you don't get everything tucked in, liquid will leak out onto the baby's clothes.  That being said, I can count the lifetime number of poo blow-outs we've had on three fingers.  And once you get it down, they are comparable to disposables.

3.  Are they cheaper?  Maybe.  The number I generally see for the cost of disposable diapers from birth to potty training is about $2000.  But I hear from friends who use disposables that they believe it may be less than that if you take advantage of sales, coupons, buying in bulk, etc.   

I've kept track of our costs very closely, and (assuming the Kid is potty trained by two and a half) we will have spent about $950.  That includes our cloth wipes, all our diapers and covers, several wet bags, a diaper sprayer, and the water/electricity/gas it takes to launder the diapers.  You could spend more, you could spend less--that's just us.

That number doesn't count the occasional package of disposables.  We use them when we travel or when we're going to be out for a long day, because I don't like carrying around a bag of dirty diapers.  It also doesn't count the disposable wipes we send to daycare.  I haven't kept as careful track of those expenses, but I think we use about one pack of disposable diapers and one pack of wipes per month.

That number also doesn't take into account the fact that we could potentially re-sell or hand-me-down some of our diapers when the Kid is done with them.  Additionally, if we do decide to have a second kid, our diapers costs will be zero.  

4.  What about the laundry?  Is it icky?  We wash diapers just about every night.  We have enough diapers that we could go two or three days, but doing it every night just makes for a better routine for us.  Sweet Husband supervises the bath, I start the diapers, I put the Kid to sleep, he flips the diapers to the dryer, lather, rinse, repeat.  I know that sounds like work.  I thought it would be too, but it sort of gets like breathing after a few weeks--you just do it.

You probably do see more poo using cloth.  We have a diaper sprayer attached to the toilet to rinse poopy diapers before they go into the diaper pail.  I don't think it's too bad, but I suppose other people might.  

For me there's a huge trade-off in smell though.  Whatever the chemical is in disposable diapers smells bad to me--like, I always think the Kid's diaper is dirty when he has them on.  Maybe I'm weird, but it's worth seeing the poo when I'm cleaning the diaper to not have to smell it all day long.

5.  What about daycare?  The first daycare we sent the Kid to (which we were OK with, but not in love with) said they had no problem with cloth diapers, but seemed to have trouble using ours.  (There were other kids there in cloth, so I never really could figure it out.)  

His daycare now (which we madly and passionately love) has never had any problem.  His teachers expressed a mild preference for all-in-ones, so that's what we send.  Easy.

This was one of my major concerns about using cloth diapers.  I've heard so many parents say, "I'd love to use cloth, but I can't send my kid to daycare in them so it's not worth it."  Maybe it's because I live in a liberal-hippie town, but every daycare we checked out said cloth diapers would be fine.  Sometimes I wonder if people are just afraid to ask?

So those are my thoughts...if you have any other questions, feel free to post in the comments.

The Bad Parent Chronicles: Baby's First Shiner

The Kid is up to three words now.  "Dada", "Baba", and "Dog".  Although I am generally included in the meaning of "Dada", I have to admit that I did feel a little slighted when he started in with "Dog" this weekend.  We don't even call Moe "the dog"--or at least, we only do it rarely.  Twelve hours(ish) of good, strong labor and he's saying "dog"....sigh.

But maybe he's just upset that I gave him his first black eye this weekend.

OK, technically, he did it.  I just failed to prevent it.

We were hanging out upstairs on our bed, which is, thankfully, only box springs and a mattress--so not too high off the floor.  And the little booger just moved faster than I thought he could.  He went headfirst--scariest "crack" I've ever heard.  The longest two seconds of my life later, he started screaming.  Then he cried himself to sleep.

Which completely freaked me out.  Because after a knock like that, of course, the question in your mind is, "Is he tired?  Or is he unconscious?"  

So I woke him up...every fifteen minutes for two hours, at which point we both decided that further attempts to sleep were silly, so he got up and played.  And was fine, except that he had a nice shiner on his left eye.  

I would post a picture, but it was just too sad to look at.  I think this is one parenting moment that we don't need to record photographically for posterity.

Moe Speaks: You've Gotta Get Yourself One of These!

Oh holy bejeezus--would you check this out?  It's hard to tell because Mom cuts all his food into training treat size pieces, but that's not boring cereal or rice puffs--that's a bona fide grilled ham and cheese sandwich.  A HAM AND CHEESE SANDWICH!

And he loves feeding it to me too.  He thinks it's the greatest game.

Mom and Dad have been trying to stop him, but the two of them are hard-pressed to out-wit his grins and my dastardly intelligence.

The Incredible Exploding Baby (With Hats!)

So, my comment about the Kid being recovered may have been premature.  He's acting happy.  He's eating...I'd say normal, but even his "normal" is a little odd to me most days.  (Rice puffs and turkey?)  He's drinking well.  But we can't seem to get his digestive process...solidified. 

For today, I'll take happy though.

And hats!  More mysterious Christmas knitting, but (if you are not related to me), details here and here.

Moe Speaks: Training Begins

We're working on his throwing arm, but he's getting the basic idea.  I think this new slave has promise!

He Loves His New Shoes

Do you know who Pete the Cat is?  I put out a distress call to my favorite children's librarian the other day, "If I have to read Chicka Chicka Boom Boom one more time I'll go mad--help!"  In response, she sent me Pete.  (Here's a video of the book being read aloud--so much fun!)

The book is going to be the Kid's "something to read" under the Christmas tree.  (We're starting the "want, need, wear, read" tradition right from the get-go.)  But it's relevant today, because Pete likes to sing about his shoes.  

"I love my white shoes.  I love my white shoes."

(Really, just go watch the video.  It'll make you feel all warm and happy like you've been to story time.)  

This weekend, the Kid got his first pair of shoes.  And, like Pete the Cat, he seems to love them.

While the Kid isn't walking yet (for us, anyway), he likes to scamper around enough that I was getting worried about his feet being warm and protected.  I had poked around a bit online, but I was a bit bewildered by it all.  So, we went to the shoe store this morning.

This was one of those times I really think a brick-and-mortar store was necessary.  We (me and the fabulous saleslady) tried three different brands on him before we found a pair that would buckle correctly without being ridiculously big in the toe.  Apparently the Kiddo has inherited my chubby feet.  (Sorry, bub!)

I was expecting a bit of a battle, and so was the saleslady, I think.  "I'll let you slip the heel in, so I don't make him cry."  But the Kid was just like, "Eh, whatever."  I suspect there will come a day when he objects to hats and shoes and things, but for today he loves his new shoes.

A Little Off the Top Please

Sometime mid-last-week, I looked down and realized that my baby was growing a mullet.  I'm a fan of a little shagginess, but it was getting beyond that.  It was time for his first trim.

While I have a wonderful stylist in Lawrence that I love (hi Jen!), I had long planned to take the Kiddo back to our hometown for his first haircut.  My old stylist, Stephanie (that's her up there with the scissors), and I have been through a lot together (long, short, really short, red, black [I did it at home, she fixed it], curly, straight, a few proms, my wedding...oh the stories she could tell!), so it only seemed fitting.

But even with all the magic she's worked over the years, I never realized that she is, in fact, a ninja master.  Truly, it was like watching a cartoon on fast-forward.  She was behind him.  She was in front of him.  She was snipping.  She was handing him a comb and a clip to play with.  The Kiddo did not have time to even think about objecting, and, as you can see, he even had some fun.

When she was finished, I had a tiny sack of hair snips and a baby that doesn't look quite so baby anymore....

Hooot! Hooot! Happy Halloween!

Moe:  This is awesome.  The little slave is taking over the Halloween card--THANK DOG!

Sweet Husband:  Tights?  Really?  We can't even get pants on him without two parents present....

Porter:  Wake me up when it's Thanksgiving.

The Kid:  Ahh dadadadadababa!

Meryl:  As promised, my little baby hoot owl suited up for trick or treating fun.  Happy Halloween to all!

Apparently People Know I Knit

I took the afternoon off the other day, and ended up shopping and strolling downtown.  Among other things, I found the sweetest cabled mittens for the Kiddo.  When I stopped in to take Sweet Husband lunch, we had the following conversation:

Him [Indicating shopping bag]: What'd you get?

Me:  Oh, a couple of shirts and a pair of mittens for the Kiddo.

Him:  You bought him mittens?

Me [thinking of the epic scarf--which is just almost finished, in addition to several other projects on the "to-make-for-Christmas" pile]:  Well, if I wait until I get around to knitting a pair, his fingers will freeze off.

Later that day, talking with Nice Mom on the phone, with the Kid giggling in the background:

Mom:  What's the Kiddo laughing about?

Me:  Oh, I bought him a pair of mittens today and we're just trying them on.

Mom:  You bought him mittens?

Apparently, I'm getting a reputation.

But then I started digging in his "Winter" box, and realized that I had actually made him mittens last year in my newly-pregnant-knitting-frenzy.  I'm sure he'll lose one pair or the other before it's all over with, right?  [The white ones are the ones I bought; I knitted the greenish-yellow ones.]

Although it's apparently branded me as that overly precious mommy that has to hand make every stitch of her child's clothes (I say that tongue in cheek, I know my peeps love me), I'm really starting to enjoy the fruits of all that early knitting.  

Three of the sweaters I made last Winter are currently in use. (From top left to bottom: a Placket-Neck Pullover, a BSJ, and an Easy Baby Cardigan [modified to be a hoodie].)  His Tomten is still too big, but will fit next year.  Only this one ended up being too small.  And actually even it would fit perfectly if only I could get his head through the neck hole.  We gave it a good try one morning about a week ago--Sweet Husband held him and I tugged.  It was not well received by the Kid.  (Anybody know a nine month old with an abnormally small head who needs a sweater?  Or else maybe I can rip out the neck and make it better?  Hm.)

I must admit, it tickles me to watch him crawling away (always on the move these days) in one of his sweaters.  And I suppose there are worse things to be known for than knitting.