the shrine of Benjamin

Fire Station

This morning, Benjamin took his first tour of Charlottesville's main fire station. He was most interested in the giant wheels of the fire engine.

no more crib

Last Saturday, Benjamin and Nathalie returned from Kentucky quite tired. They both looked groggy and had apparently both slept throughout the flight back.

Benjamin had slept in a borrowed pack-n-play while there, and Saturday night was his first time back in his own crib in almost a week. But rather than sleeping in Sunday morning, he awakened around 5 or 6 AM and cried endlessly. When his mother tried to calm him down, he did something he'd never done before. He climbed out of his crib.

There's the inevitable feeling of pride mixed in with all the other sources of ambivalence as I report that. Any step up the ladder of childhood development is an opportunity to celebrate, but this was one of the scariest ones for a couple of reasons:

1. climbing out of the crib does not mean climbing down safely;
   
2. to be candid, I'll admit that the crib is a handy sort of prison cell, and our beloved inmate could now escape.
   

What both reasons have in common is that we were very worried for Benjamin's safety and had lost the one place we could put him and relax knowing that he couldn't hurt himself.

When Benjamin climbed out of his crib, he started to topple head first to the hardwood floor. Fortunately Nathalie caught him. It occurred to me that the sides of his pack-n-play (see photo to the right) might be taller than the sides of his crib, but no such luck. He immediately climbed out and began to fall, head first, to the floor. This time I caught him.

We took him into bed with us, and he did sleep for maybe 45 minutes, but then it was time to get up and play, which his overwrought mother acceded to. His father, with more sleep than the rest of the family, spent the day researching options, none of which could apply to Sunday night. I ordered a crib tent (see photo to the left) but it wouldn't arrive until midweek and we needed a solution — at least a temporary solution — within the next few hours.

This is where the narrative gets told out of sequence. Back in January, I wondered when Benjamin would start to climb out of his crib. I had read not to worry about it until he was 2 years old, but I decided to be prepared. When we selected his crib 2 years ago, we picked a "3-in-1" model — one that could be converted from crib to toddler bed with an in-between stage for transition. To go from crib to bed requires only that we remove one of the sides. To do the in-between configuration, we'd have to order an extra part, a guard rail to keep baby/toddler from rolling out of bed. What I discovered in January was that our model of crib had been discontinued, and with it, the matching guard rail. So I corresponded with the parent company of the crib maker and then with a retail outlet of a sibling brand of cribs, then back and forth between them for a while to get their stories straight, since the model numbers differed between company and store, and finally paid for the guard rail (and shipping) for a different-but-similar line of cribs. Only problem was the current cribs didn't come in natural blond wood, just white or dark wood. We ordered white to go with the white accents in Benjamin's mostly blue room. Then in March (yes, 2 months later!) the store called me back and said that white had also been discontinued (!) and that all they had was dark wood. Fine, fine. Just send it along.

The piece arrived the week Benjamin and Nathalie were in Kentucky. I had stored it in the back of his closet, figuring we wouldn't need it until this summer at the earliest. What good timing that it was there.

So I spent Sunday evening converting his bed and then attaching safety locks to all his drawers. If he's going to be free to roam his room at night, we don't want him to be able to climb up onto anything he could fall off of, or to pull anything heavy over onto himself. His new prison is bigger, but (we hope) just as safe as the old one.

The first few nights, he'd come and cry at the locked door of his nursery (which is a screen door I put in 2 years ago so that we could always look in on him — and, later, so that he could look out), but now he seems to be adjusting. I suspect we'll return the crib tent, unopened.

Here are some photos of Benjamin sleeping in his new big-boy bed:

free time

friends & family plan

Benjamin is in Kentucky visiting friends and family.

Benjamin and Sebastian


Benjamin and Katarina

petit crapaud

At 21 months, Benjamin meets his first toad.

the turtle standard

The giant wooden turtle at Cville Coffee will probably remain a good place to take Benjamin's picture, so it may well become our standard for showing his growth over time. Here are a couple of photos of the boy and the turtle, one taken when he (the boy, not the turtle) was around 12 months old, and one taken when he was closer to 21 months (which, by the way, he turned today).

- papa

Benjamin's first Easter egg hunt

Happy...

Today Benjamin started to say "Happy Easter!" He's been hearing the phrase a lot—people have been saying it to him, both friends and strangers. This morning we chose Easter e-cards for his grandparents, and all the cards talked, so he began to repeat "Happy Easter!" (though perhaps it sounds more like "'appy Easser!").

Then, while we were trying to decide on a card, he suddenly said, with a big smile, "Happy Zut Alors!"

I laughed so hard I cried. He thought it was really funny to see me laugh so hard, so he kept repeating (between peals of laughter) "Happy Zut Alors!" I'll try and get a video clip of him saying it to add to the zut alors video I am preparing (at Isis's request).

So, happy Easter everyone. And happy Zut Alors!

Lutece

first time on the trampoline

Trampoline by Miss Angel. Photos by Miss Angel.

Puddle Dance

I have many videos to edit and upload. Here is one from last month when we were having oddly warm weather for February. Benjamin loves the park and usually likes to slide, but recently he has been much more interested in the basketball court... and its puddles.

climbing and waving

The latest photos from Miss Angel:

B says buh-buh-Benjamin

Benjamin has had foam rubber letters and numerals in his bath for as long as he's taken baths in the big tub — less than a year but longer than 6 months. He loves them, but has never associated the letters with sounds, and I try not to push the issue. Every once in a while, I'll try to introduce him to the idea that "The B says 'buh' like buh-buh-Benjamin." But he either laughs or ignores me and I drop it.

Tonight he grabbed the T and announced Travail! (French for "work.")

I stared at him a moment and then called to his mother, "Did you teach him that T is for Travail?" Yes, apparently she had, but he'd shown no sign of understanding her.

I was very excited. Our first hint of literacy.

Then Benjamin grabbed the Y and said something I didn't understand.

I called to Nathalie again, "What starts with Y?"

"Yaourt."

Yes! That's what he'd said. French for yogurt. I just hadn't recognized his pronunciation.

So I tried "The B says 'buh' like buh-buh-Benjamin" for the three-dozenth time — and he got it! Show him the B, get back "Benjamin."

A photo of someone else's kid (from the ad for this toy)

And that's not all. He can reliably point to the M and say "M-M-Maman," the P and say "puh-puh-Papa," the L and say "L-L-L-Lutece," and the G for "G-G-G-Gramma." Not just once or twice, but over and over again, reliably, never getting any of them wrong. The only "mistake" was to turn to the letter V, stuck to the tile wall behind him, and announce "Yaourt." Honestly, the V and Y look very similar in this set. I showed him the two letters next to each other. I didn't tell him what sound V makes. I just emphasized that it was the Y that says Y-Y-Yaourt.

It was a bit dreamlike, this experience of suddenly having the boy be able to associate letters and words, after all those fruitless (but very casual, low-pressure) earlier attempts.

Nathalie says they'll start doing phonics exercises tomorrow.

-extra proud papa

Benjamin loves the kitchen sink

A devilish look as he discovers a new use for his high chair:
A less devilish look:
Compare with his first bath in that same sink:
(posted December 31, 2006)

(posted for sixième moisniversaire)

-proud papa

SVO

I keep forgetting to blog about Benjamin's communicative advances. Before his nap today, for example, he told me: "Maman cherche minou" (Maman look for [in this case "get"] kitty). (And no, the kitty in question was not Lutèce, but a plush toy.) He is able to make subject + verb + object sentences more and more—and they are often orders (no big surprise seeing that he is 20 months going on 2½ years).

A month or so ago, while having lunch with his babysitter and her family, Benjamin was heard to declare "I like this!" before adding a typical "Mo'?" (More?). Apparently Miss Angel makes delicious chicken salad (guess I should get her recipe). But that was the only use of "I" heard until lunch today when he proclaimed what sounded like "I like pizza!" (His papa had just given him a little piece of mushroom pizza—this child loves mushrooms, we'll see if that lasts.) I suspect that he has no grasp on the pronoun "I" but instead is mimicking his verbally advanced playmate Lucia (who is exactly a year older than him). I am fairly sure I have heard her declare "I like this!" Though, of course, today Benjamin replaced the "this" with "pizza." I have yet to hear him use the French "je."

-maman

spring is not quite sprung

a visit to the library

(photo by Miss Angel)