The Jasper Chronicles

The Journal of a Cynical Dad

Monday, February 12, 2007

18 Months

The Boy is now 18 months old. 548 days. 13252 hours. Or more eloquently, a year and a half. This is the time when we can stop aging him in months, and start using years like the big kids do. Our friends Guy and Liz were very excited when their son reached this milestone, the day the numbers 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, and 24 ceased to exist. "We can just tell people he's a year and a half." they enthused. My feelings, on the other hand, are mixed.

Firstly I don't think it takes that much more effort to say ## months versus "a year and a half", the extra calories burned could be made up sucking a Jolly Rancher. Secondly an awful lot happens in the six months between a year and a half and two years, so I just don't think "a year and a half" accurately summarizes The Boy's development.

Me: He's a year and a half.

Total Stranger: Wow, he's really advanced for his age.

Me: Actually he's closer to 22 months.

TS: Why didn't you just say 22 months you lying bastard?

Me: Because "a year and a half" is easier to say. And don't you think it sounds nicer?

TS: You're selling your son short because "a year and a half" sounds nicer? Book the therapist now, your son's going to need it. (I have to pick better people to strike up conversations with)

Seems like a lot more work to me. I think I'm going to stick with months.

Other happenings the last little while, in no particular order:

Just when we thought we were going to get a break from teething pains, tooth #17, a molar, has started to erupt. 17 appears to be particularly painful. The Boy has been waking up in the middle of the night screaming in pain, which is heartbreaking to listen to. Equally disturbing, but even more perplexing; he also wakes up in the middle of the night saying "Thank You". Either way, I lie in bed awake, wondering.

Last month The Boy caught a nasty cold, resulting in a trip to the emergency room when his fever topped 104. P and I weren't freaked out, but with a temperature of 104 it was suggested we go to the hospital as a precaution. The doctor at the hospital took our concerns seriously, and prescribed a series of tests just to be on the safe side. We felt assured we made the right decision in coming. That is until the tests started.

Blood test - The blood technician had trouble finding The Boy's vein, and ended up jabbing him nine times. He looked up at me (I was the lucky parent that had to hold him down) and wailed. P had to leave the room. It's been three weeks and I still don't think he's completely forgiven me. The bruise on his arm is still there too.

X-ray - To stop the baby from moving during an x-ray, they're strapped into a chair with their arms over their heads. It looked more like a 18th century torture device than a piece of medical equipment. He cried the whole time.

Mucus culture - The lab was closed that night, so this test was skipped. It would have involved a long tube up the nose, The Boy would have hated it.

Rectal thermometer - self-explanatory.

I managed to hold it off, but it was inevitable, The Boy's cold made it past my immune system and into my sinuses. I spent the better part of Friday under the covers curled in a fetal position. P was sick, I was sick, The Boy was sick. When I did make it downstairs, we had no energy for play, so the entire family sat on the couch and watched Treehouse on TV. That Corduroy Bear is really whiny.

The words are starting to flow now, although grunting is still his favourite way to communicate. While not as quick to speak as some of his contemporaries, I think it's because The Boy has got two languages to figure out. What he's saying at the moment.

Thank you
I don't know
Good Night

Gay dahn - Egg
Bow bow - Full, as in I'm full
Moaw - Cat, or he's mimicking Meow

I'm chalking the last one into the Cantonese column, because as you can see, English is winning hands down. Easy to see why, he hears English 75% of the time. It's not a competition I know, but I have to admit, I feel slightly burned when he chooses an English word over its Chinese equivalent.

We've bought a potty. We're going to start potty training him soon. We've tried it on and off for the past few months. His poo is fairly predictable, pee is going to be a challenge. More updates on this as they unfold.