This Fourth of July is the first time I have ever experienced the holiday in a state where fireworks are not only legal but for sale (and cheap) at any corner drugstore. I'm typing at the kitchen table listening to a steady streams of whooshes, shrieks and pops from outside. More reasons to stay inside...

It's been a while since I've posted a Barak update. So...

He's fourteen months old, and walking a few steps. (Note to readers whose babies were babies prior to the Back to Sleep campaign--babies, on average, walk later now. Sleeping on their backs gives them less tummy time, so although it decreases the risk of SIDS it does mean they often walk later. Fine by me.) He started walking on the Friday of the convention--there's nothing as motivating as a table full of blue Lincoln logs, it seems.

His favorite word right now is "yeah!" Probably because I say it a lot. "Do you want the book? Yeah? Should I read the book? Okay..." So now whenever I ask him a question, he says yeah. "Do you want some cheese?" "Yeah!" "Can I have that?" "Yeah!" "Should we change your diaper?" Dead silence and a diapered bottom making haste toward the horizon. He gives me his foot when I ask him for it, so that I can put on his sock, although sometimes he'll offer me the foot that already has a sock on it. He likes to wave bye-bye with both hands (twice as much fun.) He eats whole bananas without help and fairly minimal mess, and likes to drink water from my water bottle with the (choke-proof) pop-top. If I ask him to sit down in the tub, he will. (Although he might be up again two seconds later.)

Right now, since we're packing, the house is full of packed and taped boxes, which he likes to climb up and over. At first this made me nervous, but now I think he's really fine. He doesn't try to come off head first, but backs off and reaches his feet down cautiously. Favorite foods are now strawberries and macaroni and cheese; yogurt is still good but not what it once was. He likes to eat his bagel for breakfast in the stroller on the way to daycare--this is preferable, apparently, to cheerios. And sadly, nursing seems to be on its way out. He still wants to nurse first thing in the morning, and usually asks to nurse when I pick him up from school, but he starts and stops and looks around and usually slides off after a couple of minutes in search of adventure. Until a week or so ago, saying, "Barak, do you want to nurse?" brought him zipping speedily across the room and in about two seconds he'd be standing in front of me, holding my knees, beside himself with excitement and anticipation. No more. Well, it had to happen sometime. I'm happy to keep nursing as long as he is interested (within reason) but I don't think I'll find myself in the position of talking him out of it when he's two.

And the best thing that happened today was what he did to help my burned thumb feel better. I showed him my blister and said, "Ow! Will you kiss it?" and he obliged with one of signature open-mouthed smacks that on the cheek is delightfully slobbery, but in this case meant that my whole thumb disappeared into his gaping mouth.

He's asleep right now, and MHH is preparing a class for tonight, so all is quiet here at the house behind door number three.

Time to go pack more boxes. And feel very, very grateful.