Happy Halloween!

Why yes, I do come from a family of nerds. Why do you ask?

Mom and Dad went back and forth a lot in figuring out what to dress me as for Halloween. Dad wanted me to be Jabba the Hutt. Mom wanted me to be Princess Leia in the gold bikini. Turns out neither was feasible (or particularly flattering), so they ended up compromising. I think it was the right decision. Besides, it allowed Mom and me to dress up in complementary costumes.

Tale of the tape: 1 year

As I told you on my birthday, I had my one-year checkup this week. Having gone through this every three months since birth (and actually more often than that, considering I had checkups even more regularly during my first few months), it's become old hat to me. So much so that I now know exactly what will happen before we even get to Dr. Lindsay's office.

Step one: Our nurse Lucy comes in to measure my head and my height, and then she weighs me.
Step two: Dr. Lindsay comes in to look me over, tell me how awesome I am, and listen to my parents' inane questions.
Step three: Lucy comes back in and I get a vaccine or have blood drawn.

Oh, step three. How I hate you. Sometimes it's shots, sometimes it's blood, but either way, sharp metal things are being jabbed into my lovely, pudgy thighs. This time, it was three (three!) vaccines: Hib, MMR and a flu shot. While I'm here, I might as well mention step four: I cry uncontrollably for several minutes and then fall asleep for close to two hours.

Lather, rinse, repeat every 90 days.

Prospective parents and/or babies, this is what you have to look forward to. Anyway, on to the stats.

Birth weight: 7 pounds, 7.6 ounces.

6-month weight: 17 pounds, 6 ounces.

9-month weight: 20 pounds, 3 ounces.
1-year weight: 22 pounds, 8 ounces.

Birth length: 20.25 inches.

6-month height: 26.5 inches.

9-month height: 28.5 inches.
1-year height: 29.5 inches.

Birth head circumference: Not available.

6-month head circumference: 43.5 centimeters.

9-month head circumference: 45.1 centimeters.
1-year head circumference: 46.4 centimeters.

So for those of you keeping score at home (and honestly, why wouldn't you be?), my weight has more than tripled since birth, and I'm nearly 50 percent taller. No wonder I'm having trouble fitting into my old chair.

Happy birthday to me!

Well, friends, the day has come. My first birthday. That's right – it was one year ago today that I joined the real world. It's been a pretty fantastic year for me and, I would assume, my parents. [Editor's note: It has.]

Now, I know I've spent the past year boring you with far too many details from my life (If you're a nice person, this is where you say, "Don't be silly, Eliza, it hasn't been boring at all!"), so today, to celebrate my first birthday, I thought I'd go easy on the text and just concentrate on the visuals.

So here's a trip down memory lane, showing my progress from the day I was born up to today. Enjoy!

20 minutes old

1 day

1 month

2 months

3 months

4 months

5 months

6 months

7 months

8 months

9 months

10 months

11 months

1 year!

Quite a transformation, huh? I go in for my one-year checkup later this week, and I'll report back on just how drastic this transformation has been. In the meantime, feel free to eat some cake in my honor today. Or any day, for that matter. Cake is really good.

15 more years, and I'll be driving a real one!

Bite me

In terms of genetics, I’ve received a lot from my dad. On top of our many shared personality quirks, I also have his blue eyes, his cleft chin, and the same long toes that make us both look like poster children for the theory that humans evolved from apes.

These are all things that I’ve known about – and have come to terms with – for some time now. But a few months ago, I found out that Dad passed another genetic trait to me: the Rose teeth. Turns out, certain members of the Rose family have – and I say this as gently as possible – freakishly large front teeth (Mom calls them Chiclet Teeth).

Dad has them. His brother Jason has them. Their dad (my Grandpa) has them. And now I have them.

Now, it’s not a big deal. In fact, these teeth will probably prove pretty advantageous at some point – I pity the poor corn cob that dares get in the way of my mouth once it’s fully armed and operational. But when you’re just a few months old and those giant hunks of enamel start erupting from your gums, it’s not fun.

Unfortunately for Mom and Dad, I’ve passed that misery on to them, crying like…well, a baby every time a new one started to sprout. Essentially, I’d be in pain for a couple of days as each tooth tried to push through. That meant a few rough nights where I’d wake up and need to be soothed with a cold binky or some other refrigerated chew toy. (Luckily, once they fully break the surface, the pain is much more manageable.) 

Because of those handfuls of sleep-deprived nights, Dad is fond of saying that, considering how awful teething is for parents to deal with, he can’t imagine how tough it is on the kids. He’s exactly right.

As of now, less than a week shy of my first birthday, I’ve got six teeth (four up top, two on the bottom) that have come through completely. But as we speak, there are two more coming through up top, and two more coming through on the bottom. Which means I’m pretty miserable. And, as a special bonus, teething also causes uncontrollable drooling, so not only am I in pain, but I constantly look like I’ve been walking in a monsoon.

So thanks for causing me so much pain, Dad. And you wonder why I bite you every chance I get.

Down on the farm

I’m going to begin today’s post by quoting a few lines from the 1985 film classic, “Teen Wolf.” [Editor’s note: I realize that quoting “Teen Wolf” kind of destroys any semblance of illusion that this blog is being written by a baby, but too bad. Besides, I watched “Teen Wolf” with Eliza sitting on my lap a few months ago, so it’s at least somewhat conceivable that she can quote one of the best lines from the movie.] The quote comes from Coach Finstock, the head basketball coach for the Beavers:

“There’s three rules that I live by: Never get less than 12 hours sleep. Never play cards with a guy who’s got the same first name as a city. And never go near a lady who’s got a tattoo of a dagger on her body. Now you stick with that, and everything else is cream cheese.”

After the events of this past Saturday, I’d like to add one more rule to live by: Never visit Remlinger Farms during the month of October.

For those of you who don’t know it, Remlinger Farms is a sort of country-themed amusement park located about 45 minutes east of Seattle. There’s a country store, concessions, petting zoo, train, hay maze, a few rides and a bunch of other family-themed activities. In other words, it’s the type of sanitary environment where you can eat a caramel apple while petting a goat. It’s really a lovely place to visit. In the spring and summer, that is.

But when October rolls around, they start their annual Fall Harvest Pumpkin Festival, and every family within a 35-mile radius descends upon it. I’m pretty sure that going to Remlinger Farms is the official fall weekend activity for white people with kids in the Seattle area. Where else can you buy a pumpkin for thrice what you would pay at Safeway?

So, not surprisingly, the place was absolutely packed on Saturday, which made it a chore to get food, wait in line for the train, or even just get a little one-on-one time with the animals in the petting zoo. Despite these first-world problems, I must say that I still had a ton of fun. I enjoyed the train ride around the park, I was mesmerized by the chainsaw sculptor, and I loved all the animals in the petting zoo. I also learned that it’s pretty entertaining to watch your parents’ faces when they see you pet a donkey and then immediately put your hand in your mouth.

And since I’ve so gleefully talked up this place, here are some photos from our Saturday at Remlinger Farms.

"Hey, goat. It's good to see you. I like your beard. I had a beard like that in The Perfect Storm."

Here's Dad trying to get me excited about Pickles the pig. I was apparently more interested in the fence.

I was, however, excited to see the alpaca.

Very excited.

Donkey kisses.

"Let's go again!"

Another pig, another unimpressed baby.

Meow!

This is the chainsaw sculptor I was mesmerized by. We didn't stay long enough to see what his final product looked like, but I'm going to go out on a limb and predict that it was going to be a bear.

Train ride! Fun fact: Remlinger Farms has more scarecrows on site than anywhere else on Earth. They were literally everywhere.

Mom points out some horses from the train.

Another scarecrow! I can't stress enough just how many of them there were.

Checking out the peacocks. None of them were showing off their feathers, so I've cropped them out. Jerks.

This is as far as I made it in the hay maze. I sat on that bale for roughly 30 seconds. Two days later, Mom and Dad are still finding stray pieces of hay on me.

Before leaving, we made our way to the grassy field next to Remlinger Farms so I could play.

Twirling is awesome!

Picking leaves.

And thank you for a wonderful day of sun, fun, animals and waiting in lines!

By the way, in the past week or so, I’ve had several people inform me that it’s been a long time since my last post. I’d like to apologize for making you wait so long. In my defense, it’s been a busy month: I’ve been trying to learn how to stand on my own (getting close!)… and, uh, that’s about it. Well, it seemed busier than it actually has been.

No matter. I plan on making it up to you in the coming weeks. I’ve got a lot of fun stuff to share, such as the hunt for the perfect Halloween costume (will Mom try to re-create Peapod-gate?) and the wonders of teething. There’s also the little matter of my upcoming first birthday – it’s just two weeks away! So stay tuned…