blossoming understanding

My baby is going to be 14 months old next week. This is a really neat time to spend with him because it seems like every day/week he learns something new.

About a month ago he finally got the hang of walking, and now he's mastering the advanced techniques such as walking fast, turning, walking backwards, walking while carrying objects, even spinning circles (aka dancing). The combination of his increased speed and new height is making it harder to keep things out of reach from his little paws. It's only going to be a few short months before he can reach the counter top in the kitchen; he can already reach the edge of the bathroom counter top.

The little turkey is also able to climb. We have thankfully broken him (more or less) from the bad habit of standing on the oven drawer handle and holding onto the oven door handle. He thought this was a cool place to hang out and a convenient way to try and reach whatever was on the stove top! yikes! Just the other day after I told him it was time to go for a walk I came back into the room after tying back my hair to find he had climbed up into his jog stroller and was already sitting in it --ready to go mom!

Another endearing habit baby boop has developed lately is carrying around clothes or shoes. He walks around with the item and calls out who it belongs to, with surprising accuracy I might add. He even seems to know which area of the body the clothes are worn on as he sometimes tries to put them on. That reminds me, he's also been spotted walking around with the breast pump held to his chest calling out ma-ma?

This morning as I was finishing the dishes I turned to grab a towel to dry my hands only to see boop carrying the dish towels down the hall way. I was curious so I watched him and sure enough--the boy

feeding the baby phở

“Here baby. Here’s the straw,” my wife lured our little son. I looked over just in time to see my one-year-old son suck some brown liquid with tiny green chunks from a paper cup through a clear flexi-straw. My jaw dropped.

“What’s that?” I questioned.

She said with a blank stare, “phở.”

“Through a straw?” I asked. “How is he drinking meat and noodles through a straw?” My wife glanced at me with that what-planet-is-my-husband-from stare.

She asked me, “do you see any noodles in the straw?” It was a good question. I didn’t see any noodles, but I was still astounded that the baby was “drinking” phở. He looked at his puzzled dad and smiled.

“He likes it honey,” my wife retorted. “Don’t rock the boat. He can drink his phở if he wants.” She was right. As long as he was enjoying it, which he was, there was no reason to object. With my chopsticks, I pincered a savory mouthful of noodles and slurped it into my mouth. It was clear that my wife, the baby, and I all were enjoying this meal with whatever utensil suited our abilities.

For those of you that don’t know, phở is a delicious Vietnamese noodle soup that is typically composed of rice noodles and tofu or meat in a tasty beef broth. Rumor has it that the dish is a Vietnamese