Our Force of Nature

At 12 months, Kate can:
— Run. Fast.
— Nod or shake her head to answer “yes” or “no” to questions, with full understanding
— Use the sign for “more” when she wants something… including food, to put on her shoes, to watch a video, to be read a book, or to nurse. She is quite good at being specific.
— Steal her brother’s cup while he’s not looking, run away, and laugh hysterically when he chases her for it.
— Ride a seated scooter-bike (pushing each leg independently, a skill I would not have believed any child her age could physically do until I saw her do it with my own eyes)
— Use (or try to use) a washcloth, hairbrush, toothbrush, and spoon… correctly.
— Climb stairs. Fast.
At 12 months, Kate is having a hard time with:
— Eating.
— Sleeping.

Our first major problem is eating. Although Kate is perfectly happy to sit in a high chair at school and eat everything and anything that comes her way, she will not do so at home. Let me be more clear, it’s more like she ABSOLUTELY POSITIVELY NOT ON YOUR LIFE WILL NOT NEVER NO WAY NOT IN THIS LIFETIME! sit in her high chair at home. To say she puts up a fight would be like saying that the fraud, corruption, and malice conducted by William Jefferson against the people of Louisiana were simple mistakes: in other words, it would be a gross underestimation. When Kate does not want to do something, she does not do it. And nothing can make her: Not Even Me.

At dinner time last night, as we contemplated an attempt of the high chair show-down, Paul had an idea. He put Kate in a normal, adult chair at the kitchen table. She sat happily for a Full Minute and ate about a half dozen spoonfuls from a spoon in someone else’s hand. We were mystified and delighted: the scale of which Watson and Crick must have felt when they discovered the double helix. Eureka! Kate just wants to sit at the table. The 12-month old who weighs less than some babies do at birth wants to sit at the table like her parents. Right.

We’re on the hunt for a booster seat. Hopefully, this will give us 60 seconds of dinnertime with Kate, which is about 50 seconds more than we usually get.

This sums up all of our challenges with Kate. She wants to do Everything. Right. Now. Eating and sleeping are optional in the face of exploring The World, or at least, Mommy and Daddy’s tupperware cabinet.

Sleep is more tricky. The current method is to (WARNING: sensitive parents, stop reading this right now) lock her up in her carseat so that she can’t move and try to rock her, squirming and fighting, to sleep. The alternative? Watching her turn into a crazy monster, flying around the house like a maniac, attacking random adults who try to pick her up with flailing limbs and unkept nails, running and laughing and destroying until, without warning, she falls dead asleep on her feet. To be fair, the display makes for great entertainment. But it doesn’t stop there: in her sleep, she flings herself around like a rag-doll, slamming into her crib sides, getting all manners of limbs stuck in between the slats. Because she joins me in bed to nurse, a good portion of the night is spent in a one-sided boxing match with tender parts of my body. Realizing how drastic my lack of sleep was getting made me realize how serious her lack of sleep was… so now I use the carseat. Kate must be physically held down and kept still in order to let herself relax enough to sleep. She’s that keyed up.
One of our friends reminded that babies often go through sleep problems when they are about to have a major developmental milestone. (Note: see the list above. What other milestone could this 12-month old have? Reciting verse? Driving? Swimming the English Channel?) So we are stymied with what else to do. Kate seems so in love with exploring the world that she will not stop long enough to take care of herself, tasks which then fall into our laps. Unfortunately, she is not so keen on anyone else taking care of her, either.

We keep saying that we want to have her seen by the pediatrician, although I’m unsure of what to say. There is no pill that can make a child eat. So ultimately, I think that calling the pediatrician is an attempt at seeking medication. I want Ambien for babies. Is that on the market?