A Comprehensive List of Walter's Words*

Walter's vocabulary exploded over our Thanksgiving vacation and he's been talking up an increasingly coherent storm ever since. This morning he broke out a new word, "coat." Perfectly enunciated, too.  Tonight he whipped through the sounds of cat, dog, sheep, lion, pig, and car with stunning accuracy.  He varies his tone to ask questions and to exclaim.  He often speaks and signs in two word sentences--"Mama, Uppaday!" or *more water*--and also chatters delightful strings of words in his own language.

In no particular order at all, Walter's words are:

Spoken:
Umma
Baba
Mama
Dada
Banana
Car
Cracker
Beep Beep
Baby
Nose
Snow
Teeth
Ear
(I want to) nurse
Water
Keith
Socks
Shoes
Ball
Light
Vrroom vrroom
Spoon
Broom
La La La
Itsy
Row Row
Crocodile
Baa Baa (black sheep ...)
Blocks
Hank
Hi
Bye, bye bye
Hello
Mwah
Amen
Alleluia
Uppaday
Happy Birthday
Hot!
Broccoli
Please
Betsy
Linda
Ellie
PopPop
A.B. (abc song)
Book
Cow
Keys
Coat
Cat
Milk
Water
Uh huh
Door
Cheese
Bell

Signed:
I want to nurse (sign invented by Walter ... snaps fingers)
Juice
More
Food
Water/Thirsty
All Done
Help
Bath
Diaper
I want to brush my teeth (sign invented by Walter.)

*List is comprehensive as of 8:54 pm, Thursday, December 27, 2012.  We think.

Citing Sources

Shortly after Walter's arrival on the maternity ward, I thought to myself, "Man, this kid owns this place." Our latest visit, not his first trip there. His first appearance, literally, he was pulled like a magician's rabbit from an incision in Mama's stomach in a way that my brain is still unable to comprehend. He was long, robust, and grey, and I thought, "He doesn't look very happy," and said, "He doesn't look very happy."

So soon to change. Our most recent visit, he jogged briskly and gleefully around the halls, chattering a bit and smiling at nurses. It's partly the confidence that walking brings, and partly some charm that's inately Walter's.

His 12th month was a series of homecomings, of a sort. There was this return trip to the maternity ward, when we visited friends from church who'd just given birth to their own little boy. Then to the Albright ancestral manse on the moors of Drexel Hill, PA for Thanksgiving and presentation to the matriarchs for inspection. (Passed.) And along the way a little side jaunt to the Atlantic Ocean. (Elaborating metaphorically or philosophically on the ocean's role as point-of-origin is left as an exercise for the reader.)

Thanksgiving took me by surprise, really. Walter had been ripping through all those firsts, like steps and birthdays and tastes of the ocean, that this second Thanksgiving felt like maybe we'd finally run out of firsts. Second plane ride, second Christmas, second helping of crackers, plees. All out of first-year firsts, I guess. I recall someone cutting into an onion coincedent with this realization, for the record. But when I sum that first year up, I can only count it as a huge triumph for Walter.

Some days, not all the time, I don't think he really asks much of me directly, and some days, not all the time, I know I don't have much to give. Annie and I have worked hard to become Walter's framework for success, and I guess we'll never know exactly how successful we've been, but we'll always be the first to cheer for his successes. Like this year he was pulled into screaming, and walked out of smiling.

Letter to one-year-old Walter

This was your first snow: November 9, 2011

Dear Walter,

Today I held you up to the window to watch the snow falling and you smiled, laughed, and pointed.  Even though it was only snowing very lightly, you could easily see it, and you knew it was something wonderful.  You are something wonderful, too.

You've been one year old for two weeks, now. You celebrated both your birthday and your Great Aunts Jan and Kim's wedding in Courtland, NY with your Swiftie relatives, including your second cousin and birthday buddy, Monica.  You had a quiet celebration at home on the 22nd with me and Daddy and a red velvet cupcake.  And we had a big party for you in the gym at church this past weekend.  We are a family that believes in extended birthday celebrations!

You watched the snow on Feb 10, 2012, too

In the midst of all this celebrating we have all been pretty sick.  That started the weekend before your birthday with a case of pink eye, followed by a stomach virus, followed by a cold, followed by an ear infection.  Me, Daddy, Umma and Baba all got versions of this, too.  Even with all this sickness, you have been having an amazing series of adventures.  To give you just one example: on our way to a meeting in Door County, we stopped to get some lunch for Daddy and you threw up in the van. We did the best we could with clean up and took you into the restaurant while we tried to decide what to do.  I set you down and you took off, running straight toward the big kids' play area, doing a happy little dance as you shimmied along. We decided to continue on to Door County, where you rampaged around the Maritime Museum like a baby pirate. You are so resilient. You keep learning, growing, and having wonderful time, even when you are sick.  You had your first airplane trips while you were sick and did beautifully, sleeping through most of both flights.  You are unstoppable!

Watching the snow today, Nov. 06, 2012

You are a very good communicator: you say "Hi!" and "Bye!", "Uh oh!" and "Row! Row!" You are working on your animal noises.  You are very good at sign language: you use your own versions of ASL signs for "all done," "more," "food," and "water/drink."  You used to use the sign for "milk" for when you want to nurse, but lately you have been snapping your fingers, instead!  You watched your Daddy snap his fingers to some music one day and immediately you started to snap, too.  That is amazing, Walter. And it's pretty funny when you snap your fingers at me when you're hungry.  You also invented your own sign for when you want to brush your teeth, brushing the tips of your fingers over your lips.  You use that sign very consistently and I'm very proud of you for coming up with it and teaching it to Daddy and me.  I'm also very proud of how much you love to brush your teeth.  I think I saw two new ones on their way in tonight--your official count these days is 9, including a one year molar that came in while we were traveling in New York. At your one year check up your stats were: head circumference: 19 in; height: 31 1/4 inches; weight: 25 lbs 10 oz. 95th percentile all around!

You love: hot dogs, Hank the Dog, Henry (your best friend from day care,) anything that plays music, music of all kinds, dancing (to the beat!) every time you hear music, and your favorite songs: "Row, Row, Row Your Boat," "The Itsy Bitsy Spider," "Patty Cake," and "African Skies" (ta-oomba-oomba-oomba-whoa-oh-oh.)  You love day care and your wonderful teachers who sing and dance with you. You love video chatting with your Grandma and Grandpa Albright and visits with your Umma and Baba.  You continue to love Baba Paul best of all the people in the world.  You love me and Daddy very much, too, and you give us wonderful hugs, kisses and snuggles.  Every once and awhile you will reach up and hold my hand, or Daddy's hand, while we walk together.  We love it when you do that.

Not sure about cake.

You are not a fan of fruit of any kind. You don't really seem to like cake or frosting, either, although today you delighted us by twisting apart an Oreo cookie and eating it just like your Daddy does.  You still cry a lot at bedtime, frustrated with all of the things that need to be done before we get to nursing and going to bed.  You love baby Advil (white grape flavor ... and you seem to know that it helps with ear and teething pain) but don't like other medicines very much, although you're getting used to nose drops for congestion.  You don't like being slowed down by being sick ... or by baby safety gates ... or by anything or anyone that might slow you down!

I've been writing this letter while watching election night coverage--they just announced that President Obama was reelected.  You are fast asleep, but earlier this evening you enjoyed dancing to the trumpet-heavy election theme music on the radio.  You won't remember this election, but I will remember how you liked to steal our "I voted" stickers.  I'd like to think that shows an early interest in citizenship and democracy.

Walter, I can't begin to tell you what this year has meant and means to me.  I'm not sure I know how to explain it to myself yet, either.  Here's what I know: I love you with my whole heart, my whole self.  I feel like I've known you and loved you much longer than this one year, longer even than the ten months before you were born. I think I have always loved you, my whole life long.  This love isn't based on how smart you are, how handsome, how strong, or how funny, although you are all of those things and more.  This love is yours just because you are. It's the human equivalent of the much greater love that God, your Mother in heaven, has for you. It's a love that is all yours, always, no matter what.  That is something you can know without a doubt: I love you, your Daddy loves you, you are loved by family and friends around the world, God loves you ... you are loved!

Walter, Walter, you are loved
By friends on earth and friends above
Love surrounds you every day
And when you sleep, in love you stay

Goodnight, sweet one-year-old. Here's to all the years of adventures ahead of you!

Love love love,
Mommy

You're on your way!

Three stories

We are in a bit of a nightmare haze of sickness and busy-ness and lack of sleep at the moment ... rest assured, the big 1 year birthday has been, is now, and will be celebrated and documented!  Meantime, three stories.

First story:
This morning, Walter was running about being brilliant.  He's always brilliant in the morning (if you sang the line from the Jewel song, you are 31 years old.)  He's extra talkative and active and wants to practice all the new skills he's been dreaming about and working on in his sleep.  He was getting into a bit of mischief in the bathroom, so I said, "Walter, can you pick up your moisturizer and take it to your room?"  I didn't gesture or anything, just asked the question.  He stopped what he was doing, walked over to where, sometime yesterday, he'd dropped a tube of his Aveeno anti-eczema moisturizer, picked it up and headed for the bathroom door.  I opened it.  "Can you take that to your room?" He turned and walked straight to his room and knocked on the closed door.  I opened that door.  He walked into the room, turned and looked at me, still holding the moisturizer.  "Where should we put it?" He walked over to the single bed, which is kind of our default spot for piling things that we should be putting away. He reached up and very deliberately placed the moisturizer on the bed, and then was off and on to his next adventure.

Second story:
We went to a Chinese restaurant for dinner tonight.  At one point during the meal, Walter stole Sean's chopsticks. First he said, "Daddy!" and then started to imitate Sean using chopsticks.  He made a serious face and stabbed at the table very assertively.   A little bit later, he said "Mommy!' and then imitated me using chopsticks: evidently I do a lot of dancing in my chair and singing while I swoop the chopsticks around on the table like I'm painting with them.

Third story:
Did you know it takes three cups of tea (at least) for me to make it through the day?  We are so sick.  So tired. This isn't really a story, but it's true.  In the midst of it all, Walter brings us beauty, joy, coughing, the occasional tantrum, ear pus, and surprising, amazing moments.  More about all of those ... later.

I can make the baby laugh

Today, during our post-daycare nursing, Walter rather insistently let me know all about his fingernails and how long they've gotten (too long! too fast!  We think he's in the middle of a growth spurt ... but does that make fingernails grow faster, too?) Finally I intercepted his hand with a high five, something we've been teaching Walter about lately. He stopped nursing for a second and looked up at me like, "Did you just do that?" "High five!" I said quietly. He cracked up.  We laughed together for a long time.

Teenager Walter, reading this some day, take note: at one point in your life, you thought your Mama was the funniest person in the world.

Well, maybe not as funny as Daddy:

Walter's favorite word ...

... is crocodile.

When he wakes up in the morning it is one of the first things he says--"ccchhhhroccckkkohdial"--like he's been dreaming about the word all night and practicing it in his sleep. He says it at home and at daycare; it's not his most-used word, but he says it at least once a day.

There are so many things every day that make me think "I have to write that down.  I have to remember this."  Tonight it was the crazy case of the giggles he got while nursing before bed, resulting in an unfortunate case of the wet hiccups. And the way he added in his two cents over the baby monitor while we watched the presidential debate.  And the way he walked all over the church during our Wednesday night activities, even walking right up to me while I led worship from the lectern ... a "first" my congregation has been predicting for awhile.

Walt and Henry the day that inspired us to get the boy some shoes

He got his first pair of shoes and took less than one day to adapt to walking in them. He went to his first birthday party, a one year celebration for his best friend, Henry. (Walter and Henry have been day care friends since 3 months; sometimes they'll make eye contact and start cracking up out of nowhere, sharing a joke that no one else is in on.) Walter likes eating stews and other complex, multi-layered, textured and flavored foods, making his daddy the cook very proud.  He likes to help Daddy cook, too, pushing his first pork roll around the pan with a pair of tongs.

There's no way I can possibly keep up with it all, remember it all, record it all.  But I am enjoying it all very, very much.

Crocodile!

The 5 am Solution

We got Walt to bed pretty easily around 8 pm tonight.  Now it's 9:15 and he just woke up crying.  This does not bode well at all.

Last night he went to bed easy, woke up crying at 11 or so and fussed for awhile, then back to sleep and awake again at 2 am.  He was completely inconsolable from about 2 am to 5 am.  What changed at 5 am, you might ask?

5 am is when I gave up.  I went into his room, picked him up and cuddled him close.  He stopped crying immediately.  I put him back down in his crib.  He started to cry but calmed down when I kept a hand on his back.  When I removed my hand and lay down on the bed next to his crib, he started crying again, and crawled to the side of the crib that adjoins the bed, stuck his hand through the slats and patted me firmly on the shoulder, still crying. 

I got up again and picked him up, holding him close while climbing back into bed. We don't usually sleep in bed with Walter.  When he was a little baby, we worried about our big, heavy sleeping selves rolling onto him. As he got bigger and more able to fight us off, he didn't seem to like being in bed with us very much ... he wanted his own space.

This morning was different.  As we settled in he immediately relaxed and draped himself with great dramatic flourish across my chest, heaving a relieved and happy sigh. Every minute or so he'd pop his little head up, make sure I was still there, and give me a big smile. (I tried not to encourage this, but it was pretty cute.) As he relaxed even more he settled into a comfy spot with his arms around me and his head on my shoulder, and as he truly fell asleep he rolled gently onto the bed, still close to me but claiming a space of his own, and I wrapped an arm around his legs.

I am hoping he sleeps so much better tonight, hoping the ibuprofen holds and this new course of antibiotic ear drops begins working its magic right away. I do not plan on a repeat of my 5 am solution ... it's just not sustainable.  But I get the appeal of co-sleeping.  When he finally stopped twitching and squirming (sleeping babies aren't all that peaceful, really, or at least mine isn't) and fell into deep, still sleep all I had to do was move my hand gently to his chest and I was instantly reassured by the rise and fall, the sweet baby breaths.   

I didn't sleep.  But it was the best rest I've gotten in weeks.