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Fox update
May. 12th, 2018 02:54 amFox is currently four days short of being nineteen months old.
Appearance-wise, their most obvious trait is the hair, which is extremely pale, extremely fine, and extremely long. I have been thinking for literally the last year that the very next quarter-inch of hair will mean we can pull it back, and it is so fine that I just keep on being wrong. It gets continuously into their eyes despite being, in the back, below their shoulderblades. They will now grudgingly accept barrettes (definitely preferred over elastics), and we can occasionally get a sort of side-sweep secured by a barrette, but it falls out within about an hour no matter what you do to it. We aren't going to cut their hair until they're old enough to tell us what they want, and besides, we'd pretty much have to buzz it to get it out of their eyes entirely, and no one wants to keep up with that. I have legitimately considered using product on the baby's hair. Luckily, it doesn't seem to bother them much.
All human beings in public now gender them female on sight, because a) the hair, and b) we dress them in clothes which have actual colors other than black, blue, or gray, and clothes which have pictures relating to their interests, such as cats. We do not correct gender assumptions other people make. I have had a slow-burning anger about the gendering of toddler clothing going for months now. We really need to find some kind of queer parenting group, as gender basically lies in wait and attacks us randomly whenever we leave the house. I had hoped it would be less this way given where we live, and maybe it is, but in that case it must be absolutely horrific elsewhere.
Communications-wise, we've confirmed something over two hundred words, many of which are identifiers of various kinds of trucks. I know way, way more about trucks than I used to. Fox has fallen in love with a Jeep that occasionally parks on our street, and wants to go on walks to see it, observe it out the window, talk to it, etc.; they also have firm acquaintanceship with the garbage truck and the mail truck. The songs on the channel twentytrucks on Youtube are extremely informative, far catchier than they have any right to be, and come in a wide range of musical genres, including some remarkably specific types of European techno. Fox doesn't get screentime without an adult there watching it too, but enjoys the truck songs, portions of Sesame Street (music, mostly, or sketches without involved plots), and just about any recording of the Queen of the Night's Aria. They'll play that one on repeat for up to half an hour, and can identify the song as 'night'.
The most involved sentence I've heard from them is "Mama come now." Ruth wasn't in the room and was, in fact, at work, so it was either imperative directed at the universe or expressing a wish. They've also started to put two-word phrases together to distinguish otherwise similar things. Today they said they wanted to go to the 'fort park', as opposed to the three or four other parks we have in easy walking distance, so Ruth took them to the park with the fake Revolutionary War fort in it, an object whose name I had not known they knew. They can count up to three, but their most reliable number is, for some reason, two. They can identify the letter Z, and sometimes the letter O, on a page. We can pretty much have conversations, though it can be hard to distinguish some of the sounds, still-- they're working on end 'k' and end 'p'. They basically order their food at every meal, and we give them what they want as long as they don't ask for too much sugar. The other week, they managed to express that their butt hurt and they needed a diaper change, which was very useful. They have 'please', especially when reminded, and we need to start working on 'thank you' and 'sorry'. We have several books about emotions, and they're starting to be able to tell us if they're angry or sad or scared, which is great.
They are extremely fond of canned soup, and will carry it around the apartment and leave it in random places, most often lined up on the windowsill so it can, I guess, see out. They pet the soup cans the way they pet the cats-- the exact same way, and they use the word 'pet'. If I were the cats, I might be insulted. They're totally fine eating the soup; it's only elevated to pet status before it's opened.
I think their relationship with the cats is pretty good. Rafael will come right up, as he has basically always been willing to do, and Lucien will now actually sit within two or so inches, although he pretends hard that he isn't. Fox also seems to get on well with Toots, the giant orange cat who as far as I know owns this neighborhood (most recently seen by us crashing the birthday party of the next-door neighbors' grade-schoolers, where he promptly turned into the Guest of Honor). We have emphasized gentleness in petting and it generally works out.
On playgrounds nowadays Fox likes to climb up the slide-- up the slide part, I mean-- and then go back down it, though you can sometimes get them to use another way up, especially if someone else wants the slide. They accept that other people get turns but have no idea why it is the case. They have also learned that a playground is a reasonable place for shrieking loudly, which they enjoy a lot. They like the company of other children, but at a distance, as they don't yet have any idea how to interact with them.
They remain a ludicrously happy, sunny person, with the occasional squalls mostly caused by teething or illness. We're seeing more of a temper over not being able to make themself understood, and sometimes annoyance at not getting what they want, but overall they are friendly, peaceable, and interested in other humans. Generally, things are going pretty well.
Appearance-wise, their most obvious trait is the hair, which is extremely pale, extremely fine, and extremely long. I have been thinking for literally the last year that the very next quarter-inch of hair will mean we can pull it back, and it is so fine that I just keep on being wrong. It gets continuously into their eyes despite being, in the back, below their shoulderblades. They will now grudgingly accept barrettes (definitely preferred over elastics), and we can occasionally get a sort of side-sweep secured by a barrette, but it falls out within about an hour no matter what you do to it. We aren't going to cut their hair until they're old enough to tell us what they want, and besides, we'd pretty much have to buzz it to get it out of their eyes entirely, and no one wants to keep up with that. I have legitimately considered using product on the baby's hair. Luckily, it doesn't seem to bother them much.
All human beings in public now gender them female on sight, because a) the hair, and b) we dress them in clothes which have actual colors other than black, blue, or gray, and clothes which have pictures relating to their interests, such as cats. We do not correct gender assumptions other people make. I have had a slow-burning anger about the gendering of toddler clothing going for months now. We really need to find some kind of queer parenting group, as gender basically lies in wait and attacks us randomly whenever we leave the house. I had hoped it would be less this way given where we live, and maybe it is, but in that case it must be absolutely horrific elsewhere.
Communications-wise, we've confirmed something over two hundred words, many of which are identifiers of various kinds of trucks. I know way, way more about trucks than I used to. Fox has fallen in love with a Jeep that occasionally parks on our street, and wants to go on walks to see it, observe it out the window, talk to it, etc.; they also have firm acquaintanceship with the garbage truck and the mail truck. The songs on the channel twentytrucks on Youtube are extremely informative, far catchier than they have any right to be, and come in a wide range of musical genres, including some remarkably specific types of European techno. Fox doesn't get screentime without an adult there watching it too, but enjoys the truck songs, portions of Sesame Street (music, mostly, or sketches without involved plots), and just about any recording of the Queen of the Night's Aria. They'll play that one on repeat for up to half an hour, and can identify the song as 'night'.
The most involved sentence I've heard from them is "Mama come now." Ruth wasn't in the room and was, in fact, at work, so it was either imperative directed at the universe or expressing a wish. They've also started to put two-word phrases together to distinguish otherwise similar things. Today they said they wanted to go to the 'fort park', as opposed to the three or four other parks we have in easy walking distance, so Ruth took them to the park with the fake Revolutionary War fort in it, an object whose name I had not known they knew. They can count up to three, but their most reliable number is, for some reason, two. They can identify the letter Z, and sometimes the letter O, on a page. We can pretty much have conversations, though it can be hard to distinguish some of the sounds, still-- they're working on end 'k' and end 'p'. They basically order their food at every meal, and we give them what they want as long as they don't ask for too much sugar. The other week, they managed to express that their butt hurt and they needed a diaper change, which was very useful. They have 'please', especially when reminded, and we need to start working on 'thank you' and 'sorry'. We have several books about emotions, and they're starting to be able to tell us if they're angry or sad or scared, which is great.
They are extremely fond of canned soup, and will carry it around the apartment and leave it in random places, most often lined up on the windowsill so it can, I guess, see out. They pet the soup cans the way they pet the cats-- the exact same way, and they use the word 'pet'. If I were the cats, I might be insulted. They're totally fine eating the soup; it's only elevated to pet status before it's opened.
I think their relationship with the cats is pretty good. Rafael will come right up, as he has basically always been willing to do, and Lucien will now actually sit within two or so inches, although he pretends hard that he isn't. Fox also seems to get on well with Toots, the giant orange cat who as far as I know owns this neighborhood (most recently seen by us crashing the birthday party of the next-door neighbors' grade-schoolers, where he promptly turned into the Guest of Honor). We have emphasized gentleness in petting and it generally works out.
On playgrounds nowadays Fox likes to climb up the slide-- up the slide part, I mean-- and then go back down it, though you can sometimes get them to use another way up, especially if someone else wants the slide. They accept that other people get turns but have no idea why it is the case. They have also learned that a playground is a reasonable place for shrieking loudly, which they enjoy a lot. They like the company of other children, but at a distance, as they don't yet have any idea how to interact with them.
They remain a ludicrously happy, sunny person, with the occasional squalls mostly caused by teething or illness. We're seeing more of a temper over not being able to make themself understood, and sometimes annoyance at not getting what they want, but overall they are friendly, peaceable, and interested in other humans. Generally, things are going pretty well.
