Hello Blog – its been awhile….we bought a house, we are packing, we are finishing last minute renos, work is busy….excuses, excuses.

Life with Max has always been entertaining, but the entertainment factor has multiplied since he turned one.   Max is walking and running and climbing and squealing and throwing his food and throwing tantrums.

Oh the attitude! Oh the fun!

And when you can walk – your world is something one foot higher and 100 times more exciting than when you were just crawling.  Accordingly, Max is developing some strange obsessions.


Our neighbour’s Pug

Max has always loved dogs – but his first run in with a pug has taken this obsession to the next level.  The first time he saw the four-legged-scrunch faced pup he could hardly contain himself.  His eyes doubled, he tried to clap his hands but was so excited he just couldn’t get them to meet so they just flapped about.  He smiled. He squealed. The poor pup didn’t know what to do so it just snorted and snuffed around Max’s legs, which made Max squeal with even more joy.


Shopping carts, parked cars, motorcycles, bikes.  The kid doesn’t like wheels – he loves them. They turn. And he can turn them.  Its pretty exciting stuff. When we walk around the block sometimes, an especially nice pair of hub-caps catches his eye. He drops everything and makes a bee-line for the car. Really. What kind of mom lets their one-year-old touch someone else’s filthy, greasy car wheels. Who would do that?  (A mom who wants to avoid tantrums at all costs…)


Ceiling Fans

Really? Is there anything more fascinating than a ceiling fan? Maybe just a plain old self-standing fan (and here is an aside -and a tip to try for moms and dads suffering sleepless nights, since its been hot, we’ve had the fan on in his room.  Since we’ve had the fan running, Max has miraculously started sleeping through the night.  Maybe its  the white noise? Who knows? I’m realistic and know ts unlikely to last, but I will take what I can get and enjoy every uninterrupted moment of sleep Ican).  Back to the fans. Every time we go anywhere with a fan Max stares at it like he is in a trance. He points, and insists that we visit the fan.  What would Max’s world be like without this most marvellous invention?


Here is where cloth diapers begin to fail. Max has figured out how to undo them – and take them off – I’m sure that disposables would be no different – although those pull-ups might be a tad tricky.   Max slept in this morning – and it was wonderful.  When he woke at 5:30 (daddy -its your turn)…and then again at 8!!!!!!!!!!! I danced into his room, remembering what sleeping in to 8 felt like.  I picked him up expecting the padded, plasticky feel of a diapered baby bum.  Not this time. It was bare, and it was wet.  He’d probably been awake for an hour, learning how to undo his diaper, plotting his revenge for the extra hour of sleep he permitted me.  A wet crib though,  is a small price to pay for that extra hour of sleep.


Dad loves food. Mom loves food.  Max loves food.  Luckily most  of us also love sports (I’m not sure I can speak for Max yet in this department).  There seems to be nothing the kid won’t eat…and he loves sausages.  Just the smell of them when we drop him off at daycare and he dives straight for the plate, forgets his whining routine – and it is most definitely a routine –  and doesn’t even wave good bye. He’s on his third sausage before he’s even realized we have left.  We wish it was sausage day every day.


Ok. Maybe where we live its not exactly the great outdoors (but our new place is on the edge of Gatineau park, with trails out the back, and an acre forested lot). But there is dirt,  there are leaves, and there is grass.  What else does a one-year old need? Just don’t try to get him to come inside when there are leaves to play with and holes to dig.  How dare you mommy?! I’ll throw a one-year-old tantrum if you don’t abide by my rules! 


I don’t understand it. We’ve given Max our old remote controls that we don’t use.  But, he know its just a ploy. They don’t work. They do nothing. They are pure junk.  He needs the real one. The one that turns things off and on.  And when he gets the real one. And no one notices, as quick as a super-one-year-old he flips open the toilet lid (another obsession) and tosses the controller inside.  Just to remind me that he really is the boss, and I am just a lowly, 10-time-a-day floor washing slave.

And that my friends, is the world of a one-year-old boy….dogs, ceiling fans, wheels, sausages and dirt.  Come to think of it – I think most grown men are into the same stuff.  Just saying.