January 18, 2006 - 11:27 PM.

Ate mashed potatos!

I love him so, so much, and I can truly just barely keep up with him and with all that he does.

Wakes up in the morning, stands in bed, can run from end to end of it if he likes; likes to push aside the curtain on the sliding glass door to peek at the day and play with the rod that controls the stupid vertical blinds.

Hates all diaper changes; would rather not nurse first thing in the morning about half the time now.

Says "bug'abug'abuk'abuk" now, and "bit'!" which may mean "bite."

Recognizes father's voice on speakerphone now ("mow . . .") and says "Dadday" in a soft contented voice when he hears it.

Eats cups and cups of ice chips, and loves to eat a sandwich now by having me sit in a chair while he runs around the house with a bite of it in his mouth and then runs to me again for another bite. Panics a little as he sees my bites shrinking the sandwich too fast for his taste! His favorites are mayo-creamcheese, and avocado.

Still working on enjoying foods that he likes to pick up, so it was a huge breakthrough tonight when he dove into a saucerful of mashed potatos and pushed fistfuls of them into his mouth! It was a food in two of his big no-no groups, Potatos In General and Damp Foods -- mash is too thick so is extruded, and foods that are damp to the touch are given the suspicious tip of a fingerNAIL and then pointedly ignored. So no melon, no cut fruit at all in fact, no avocado, no banana -- all these must be presented pureed or in sandwich form or, on the full moon, perhaps in freeze-dried chunks. But not tonight! Tonight he allowed himself the delight of hand-shoveled mash.

More another day.

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