Juniorette: A Brief Update

Juniorette lived out her first year a cute yet unremarkable baby: chubby-cheeked, wild-haired, and given to cooing at appropriate moments. As a Hidden Tiger Mom, I was secretly a bit disappointed that she didn't debut her walking skills at her first birthday party, like her kuya did at his, but I was also more aware of the work involved once baby becomes a toddler, so I went ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

But everything changed shortly after that. At 13 months, Juniorette decided she would be upright, and would go where she wanted to go. She became a dancing queen, having figured out which button to press for music on her activity desk, and bobbing her little legs to the beat of the baby classics. At 14 months, she could drink from a real cup, use a grownup straw, press elevator buttons, and determinedly tried to feed herself with a spoon or fork when one was within reach. She can make lines on paper using crayons. On our recent vacation, she demonstrated truly impressive ball-throwing skills, lounge chair-climbing skills, and conversational gambits. And she can pitch a fit like a two-year-old!

It's early yet for Juniorette to reveal her 15 month surprises--maybe she'll give me advice about my 403(b)?--but I've already warned Fragrant Husband that she'll be a bigger handful than Junior. For you see, she has two cowlicks (puyo in Tagalog). When we were back in the Philippines a few months ago, literally every adult relative took one look at the back of her head and went, "Naku, dalawang puyo! ("Uh-oh, two cowlicks!")" in somber tones. Two means trouble.

But that's Future Fragrant Elephant's problem. Right now, I'm enjoying spending time with my baby girl. She's chatty, loves touching plants, is amused by dogs, and eats more than her kuya (!). She's super helpful: she hands me my towel when I'm done in the shower, shoves my shoes in my face when it's time to go outside, and throws her dirty diapers in the diaper pail. She's obsessed with stairs, has an impossibly strong grip, and can recognize landmarks to guide her home. She's never taken a pacifier and instead self-soothes with the two middle fingers of her hand, like a true rock star. In short, Juniorette is objectively the best toddler on the planet.

TL;DR: My daughter > cake

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This post brought to you by about 100 mosquito bites! You're welcome, next generations of upstate NY skeeters!

How to Boston in the Winter with a Little One

With its rich history, vibrant population, thriving industries, and adequate public transportation system, Boston is a great place to live. Junior is now almost four, and in that time I’ve discovered several places that offer space or activities ideal for expending a youngster’s boundless energy. This is especially crucial in the depths of our miserable gray winters. Below is a brief list of Boston landmarks that Junior and I visit on rotation during my days off with him. All these places are easily accessible via the T.

Image source: https://www.flickr.com/photos/masstravel/7115836379

Boston Children’s Museum—Junior’s favorite. We became members since we go at least once a month. His favorite area is the Construction Zone, with the grocery and barbershop of “Boston Black” as close seconds. There’s currently a dinosaur exhibit that has him literally screaming in terror whenever I go near the life-size dinosaur model. I’m sure the museum will become even more exciting for him once he starts getting into the climbing structure that spans all three floors.

Image source: Wikimedia Commons

Boston Public Library—The main branch at Copley Square is a stately structure that seamlessly mixes classical and modern aesthetics. Our usual destination is the dedicated Children’s Library with all sorts of kid-friendly events every day, like Toddler Time and Baby Dance.

By NewtonCourt - Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=42402964

Boston Public Market—This newly-completed drain on my wallet (because I have weak resistance to food, you see) has a sizable Kids Corner hidden in the back, where Junior spends his time organizing the cash register and food stall, cooking a meal, or playing with trucks. Bonus: the Greenway Carousel and North End Playground are across the street!

Image source: https://www.flickr.com/photos/ekilby/10683053983

Boston Common—The Boston Common Carousel is a big draw for kids when it’s warm. The nearby Frog Pond is a wading pool during the summer and an ice skating rink in the winter. The Common also has a playground, which I must say requires a lot of vigilance if you have a younger kid—it’s more of an “ages 5+” setup. Close to that is a great big fountain and some food trucks, and it’s nice to eat at the tables in that spot, weather permitting. Bonus: sometimes park rangers on horses go on patrol and say hi!

Image source: https://www.flickr.com/photos/matty1378/6896707768

Prudential Center—Fancy shopping! Fancy restaurants! The Skywalk Observatory! But, really, Junior’s favorite here is Barnes & Noble. No, not because he can read already (don’t judge me, my family already does that), but because it sells toys, too! Speaking of toys—the Magic Beans at the Pru is tiny, innit?

By Tim Pierce (Own work) [CC BY-SA 3.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

Boston Fire Museum—Speaking of tiny, this little building a couple of blocks from the Children’s Museum is a cute 10-minute stop for the interested. It’s mostly great for kid birthday parties. I know I had fun! Also: they have an actual Dalmatian to greet visitors! Note: this is not one of our regular places, since it’s so small. I just thought I’d mention it.

TL;DR: Nearby local parks and playgrounds are your best bet for getting little ones ready to nap. But if you’re inclined to make the trip, I recommend the places above! 

Go Pats! (obligatory)

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This post brought to you by ube halaya!

Junior Update: the Helper Toddler

Sometime in the last month, something in Junior's brain hit the accelerator. My little peanut, who at age one could only scream incoherently with excitement, hunger, or thirst, and whose only word for the last two months was "More!", has now mastered numerous words in English and Tagalog, including:

eyes/mata	nose/ilong	belly/tiyan	buhok (hair)
paa (feet)	kamay (hands)	ngipin (teeth)	bubble
waffle	apple	pasta	isda (fish)
doggie	truck	bus	bird
bisikleta (bicycle)	dahon (leaf)	puno (tree)	airplane
unan (pillow)	shoes	medyas/socks	down/baba

...et cetera.

And he goes "Uh-oh!" or "Hala!" whenever he drops something, which is often.

Apart from his impressive linguistic growth, he is now capable of frankly terrifying feats, including clambering up on our bar stools and scaling the living room table so he can dance from an elevated stage. I think we've successfully discouraged tabletop climbing and dancing, but have allowed him to sit at the counter like a big boy:

Tucking into breakfast at the counter

Since he hangs out with me in the kitchen a lot, I've had to impart an important concept: "mainit," to which he responds: "Hot!" The initial teaching of heat was in the form of letting him briefly touch my mug full of piping hot coffee in the mornings. However, one event seared the concept into his memory: I was carrying him to show him the rice cooker, pointing out that it was hot. His little hand shot out, just as a burst of steam erupted from the steam hole in the lid. After I made sure he wasn't burned, when he finished wailing I said, "Mainit!" And that was that.

Impressed by his cognitive development, I decided it was now time to begin his formal training as Mommy's Little Helper. This continues a tradition by my mother, who employed me as her Coke, and later Diet Coke, runner as a child. At meal times, I would stand at attention while she savored every morsel of her multiple courses, and when she barked, "Kunan mo ko ng Coke!" (get me a coke) I would run to the fridge and back with a 2-liter bottle like a diabetes-bearing missile.*

*parts of this story may be exaggerated

Step 1: Self-Service
Anyway, the first step in training Junior to be a Helper was to familiarize him with the concept of self-service. For example, in the past couple of weeks he started bringing me his nursing pillow when I said, "Dede?" (Nurse?) as part of his bedtime routine. Then he realized that the pink kidney-looking abomination had to be there for him to nurse, followed by the idea that if he brought it over, he could control the time of nursing. Sweet deal, if you ask me.

BYONP (bring your own nursing pillow)

Self-dressing is part of step #1, but this one we have to delay because he doesn't quite have the coordination yet. I shudder to think of the blood and the howling when he inevitably zippers his own chin.

Step 2: Tidying Up
After self-service, the next step is to have him help me put things away. At home, his training consists of helping me make the bed in his room by handing me the pillows on the floor:

He actually can't even lift this pillow above his waist

He also knows to grab a towel from the kitchen rack to wipe up spills -- which, you guessed it, he himself caused -- so he can wipe them up. This is some Inception stuff right here, folks. Hilariously, his reaction to spilled popcorn is the same: "Punas, punas!" (wipe, wipe) Still teaching him to pick up the kernels instead of spreading them across the floor via wiping.

Yesterday he unlocked another achievement: when we got home, I stopped him mid-scamper to the bar stool to ask him to put his shoes on the shoe rack -- which he did!!! Hurrah!!!

Meanwhile, Daddy sets an example every night by putting toys away during wind down time, which has the added bonus of reducing both our chances of getting impaled by a tiny car when one of us rushes in to soothe him at 4AM.

Step 3: Opening Doors
At daycare, when requested, he opens the door to the stroller closet (the only door he can reach). He's been doing an admirable job, except for blocking the doorway when I go to lug in his chariot. We're working on it.

Step 4: That Thing I Don't Like Doing
The final step, obviously, is to have him do his own laundry, because it's low on my list of fun household activities. (Since you asked, my favorite home task is making coffee.) While the picture below is meant to fool you into thinking he can actually do this, in fact he just loves twisting the knob for the different wash settings, and also he learned to say "cheese" for the camera, so...yeah. Although he did load the towels into the washing machine when I asked! Baby steps, baby steps. When he can start reading I'll have him actually set the wash cycle and press start.

Final step: do my own laundry!

In summary, Junior has attained a new level of cuteness (I must capture his adorable dinosaur roaring, chubby fists clenched, on video) and smarts. I am very proud. You can call me Braggy McMomface. And yes, I know the Terrible Twos and/or Threes is/are coming. Just let me have this moment!

TL;DR: At 18 months, Junior can understand enough to follow some orders.

This post brought to you by pork sinigang!

Toddler Shenanigans

First, some advertising:

Get it? hur hur hur

Ah, the leaves have turned, the mornings are thirty degrees, and that means: TINY HUMANS IN ADORABLE FALL CLOTHES!!! Seriously, a lot of the little girls at the playgrounds are way more fashionable than I've ever been at any point in my life.

But, on to the point: toddlerhood. Now that Junior can toddle, he's a toddler, so there. Here is a checklist of what he's supposed to be able to accomplish at his current age (source: BabyCentre, the UK one):

Level 1: stand alone (check), bend to pick up objects (check), use two words skillfully (errr....)

Let's address that last point. Junior uses syllables skillfully. He's bilingual, too! I speak to him exclusively in Tagalog, and everyone else uses English at him. So he understands the term "bola" and "ball" (same thing), and he's settled for a term somewhere in the middle: "boh, boh." He also seems to think that every vehicle is a bus, which he calls "buh, buh." He understands, "Asan si Papa?" ("Where's dad?", or let's be honest, "Go bug dad") and, at peak whiny, will wail, "mama, mama" using just the right tone to trigger an immediate response from me. He is crafty, this one.

Side note: according to his day care teachers, he lectures the other babies when they misbehave: "Doh doh dow dow DOH doh!" is apparently how it goes.

So I'm going to put a check next to that skill. On to...

Level 2: enjoy looking at own reflection (check), drinks from a cup (check, also uses straw), plays "peekaboo" (check, often initiates game using "come-hither" peekaboo face, it is very cute)

All right, he's pretty good on his Emerging Skills. But what about...

Level 3: combine words and gestures to express wants (check, e.g. pointing and frantic head shakes combined with "no no"), tries to lift heavy things (yeah, I really need to stop bringing him to the gym and letting him play near the kettle bells #parentingfail), rolls a ball back and forth (and throws it at your face) 

As mentioned above, his syllable skills are top-notch, and since he points to what he wants, he can get it once we've used the process of elimination on all counter top items ("What d'you want? Your water? Not your water? Peanut butter? No? Oh, you want my food...")

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Now, I know I may be painting a picture of a genius toddler here, and perhaps you are giving me side eye for being biased, but bear with me. Here I present two pieces of evidence for his extraordinary brilliance:

Exhibit A: Problem Solving

Charlie's like, I have nothing to do with this, I'm out.

Junior has been very interested in climbing lately, mostly stairs and his father. He's also very dedicated to reaching for things that are on top of things. Yesterday he combined those two passions by flipping over the laundry basket, clambering on top, and using his newfound height to swipe at previously unreachable objects. In the picture above, he has granted himself access to my vast collection of change, which I've been meaning to put into coin rollers to exchange for bills at the bank. (Well, I at least got the coin rollers. The orange strip near his hand is for quarters.)

Of course, there are  times when he's too clever for his own good, like when he closes the door of whatever room he's in and promptly panics because the big people are on the other side and he hasn't mastered door knobs yet. Or when he opens snack containers by smashing them on the floor and earns the Mom Face of Doom. Or when he used to crawl through the pet gate (!) meant to keep him away from the kitty litter box -- at least now he's too big to do that.

And here is definitive proof that Junior is smaht:

Exhibit B: Drink Preference

That is some fine microbrew that he is holding in his chubby hands. Oktoberfest, yum yum, just the right flavor for tiny tots. And please note how he is rocking that mustache (pacifier). Truly, he is gifted.

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It's not all butterflies and beer in the Fragrant Household, though. Junior is teething, and he goes full-on drama mode when he feels a twinge, which is usually at at 2AM or 4AM, or both. And this is on top of his daily 5:30AM nursing demands, followed by a 6:30AM kick to my face (after we fall asleep cuddling, awww -- just kidding, it's like cuddling next to a giant non-slimy earthworm: squirm, squirm, squirm).

He also gets hungry frequently, and follows me around whining piteously and doing his best to interrupt what I'm currently doing, which is preparing his food. I can only fend him off temporarily with yogurt pouch, crackers, and other small snacks -- he needs his rice and protein to make it another hour! 

He still needs to learn not to throw his food to indicate that he's done. When he first started doing that I was all, GRRRRRR, and now he is instantly exiled from his high chair. We'll see if it works in combination with demonstrating how to hand over his unwanted consumables.

Oh, and he is still the scourge of the kitties. No matter how many times we tell him and show him how to be gentle, he still goes into slap mode whenever Charlie's in reach (Maetel is too smart to be at floor level when he's around). Oy vey. Plus he'll grab for their kibble every chance he gets, which for science I bravely tasted, and it was disgusting -- like cardboard and fish. Blecchhhhhh

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TL;DR: Toddler = shenanigans

This post brought to you by leftover chicken wings!

Lesson Learned: Clear the Floor!

Yesterday started out a little earlier and much more eventful than usual, but thankfully everyone is fine. 

His favorite bathroom toy.

To wit: Fragrant Junior, who, when congested, usually hangs out on the bathroom floor playing with a tabo while one of us showers so he can be steamed like a dumpling, got his hands on a bottle of toilet bowl cleaner. His dad stepped out of the shower to the terrifying sight of Baby with blue liquid (on the floor). 

Fragrant Husband went into Dad Emergency Mode, lifted him up, and hollered for me. We both checked his breath (seemed fine), washed his hands (twice), and Hubby called Poison Control, whose number I have saved on my phone, because this is exactly why. 

Throughout all this, Baby was his usual cheery self, and my Mom-radar wasn't going off, so I concluded that he hadn't swallowed the cleaner, and instead had just indulged in his new favorite activity, which is banging things around (hence the spilled liquid).

But Dad Emergency Mode, once engaged, takes about 48 hours to wind down. "I'm taking him to the ER," Hubby announced. Faced with the unleashed elemental power of a frantic father, I ninja-packed a bottle of milk and snacks for Baby and Hubby as he strapped Baby to his stroller. Then off he drove like a maniac to the ER. 

They kept Baby under observation for a few hours, and did a test to check for blood in his esophagus (none), using spit-up Hubby had collected and saved in a tissue. (He explained it like this: "So after Baby eats, he spits up a bit because he has a nice round belly and he's always scrunching himself up and putting pressure on it.")

During the wait, Hubby learned that sodium hydroxide (as opposed to bleach) is what worries medical professionals in cases like this. He was given a list of symptoms to watch for, and he pointed out that "excessive drooling" isn't helpful because Baby is teething (one out, one erupting)--he drools buckets on the regular. Anyway, oher signs included gurgling, difficulty breathing, and vomiting. 

Sent off with a clean bill of health, Baby spent the rest of the day under the hawk-like gaze of his pater, consuming his entire ration of defrosted breastmilk and greedily demanding more, the little scamp. 

When I returned home after my shift in the coal mines, I beheld a beaming baby and a haggard dad. 

Ah, the joys of parenting. 

This post brought to you by Medela Pump in Style Advanced! I am literally pumping breastmilk while writing this post. Ah, the joys of motherhood. 

The Strange Case of Baby Jekyll and Baby Hyde

All smiles by day, all screams at night

During the day, Little Fragrant Junior is the perfect baby: plump, pleasant, and affectionate. He can melt hearts with his coos and squeaks. He brings joy with his excited flailings. Watching him gum a melon can entertain a grandma for minutes on end.

But his wide toothless grin and sparkling eyes hide a dark truth: at night, he transforms into a hot mess. He just. Cannot. Sleep. Without. Melting. Down.

The science: baby sleep cycles are shorter than ours. They go through active sleep and deep sleep at regular-ish intervals. When they transition from one phase to another, they briefly wake up. The good sleepers fall back asleep.

Image source: babysleep101.com

However: After waking, Fragrant Junior will scream bloody murder and keep going despite being held, cuddled, rocked, sang to, or walked around in a covered stroller. He'll spit out his pacifier. Even nursing will only quiet him down for five minutes. Nothing works. He'll just wail and wail until he gets too exhausted to keep it up, at which point he'll pass out.

And then cycle begins again in two hours! Hurray!

What I'm trying to say is: BABY FOR SALE, GENTLY USED.

...Or at least, that's what I tried to say last night (as with all my blog posts since motherhood, this one took at least two days to write).

Last night, I decided enough was enough: Junior was going to sleep in his own room, no more cuddling with Mama and Papa! So at the Appointed Hour, I got him into his sleep onesie, eased him into the guest bed, nursed him, and boom, out like a light. Then I snuck off to rejoin the exclusive Game of Thrones Dinner Club -- last night's entree was duck, with a side of tempeh, and we had cider and beer with a raven on it -- and we watched another excellent episode of AGoT.

The goal was to have Junior sleep in what had previously been the guest room/baby play area. He had slept in the bed before; I used to nap there with him during my postpartum days. So I figured the transition would be okay.

But I made a rookie mistake: I didn't tell Fragrant Husband specifically that Junior was to sleep in the bed. See, he has his new crib in that room too, and we're currently getting him used to it by making him stand in it, like so:

So when Junior woke up crying at exactly 12:38AM, Hubby hurried over, picked him up from the bed, soothed him, and put him down...in the crib. Junior was like, OH NO YOU DID NOT. And it was the worst screeching you have ever heard.

We endured it for about 30 minutes total, with Hubby going in at timed intervals a la the Ferber method. Fortunately, when it was my turn to go in, Hubby read about a gentle alternative to CIO (crying it out), which was: stay with baby until baby falls asleep, then sneak off like a ninja. So we did that, with Hubby taking first watch. He was so tired that he forgot about the sneaking off like a ninja part.

So I was alone in bed, with my husband's resonant snores rumbling throughout the apartment. It was weird at first, but then it was glorious! I had all this space, extra pillows, and no snoring in my face!!! I immediately plunged into dreamland.

Afterwards, I took the 3AM and the 6AM shifts. Junior settled in nicely after he was nursed back to sleep. He even slept until 7AM, instead of smacking his parents awake at 6:08AM! Will miracles ever cease!

So now our next goal is to wean him away from night feedings. No more 3AM snack! The plan is to tank him up when he goes to bed at the Appointed Hour, and then follow up with another session before I go to bed. Then hopefully his next nursing will be at 6AM.

Gawd, just the thought of getting all that sleep is super exciting.

In conclusion: Will we finally be rid of Baby Hyde? Tune in and wish us luck!!!

This post brought to you by Panera. Panera: it means bread basket en español!