10.5 Months – Yes He Can…

In this month, Cruv’s changes were not as historically significant or as intensely dramatic as those of this country,

but they were numerous and awesome.

… Play
From birth, Cruv has been easygoing and super fun, but the fun-factor escalated a few degrees.  His solo-play includes new skills:  He reaches into big cups and toy-filled containers; he turns pages of a book, generally in the English direction, though sometimes as if it were  Hebrew (Does he do that only for books we have in both languages?  That would be cool).  The biggest changes are in his interpersonal play.  As we learned from Aunt Amy, he makes motorboat sounds, our index fingers vibrating Cruv’s willing lips.

As his Aunt Rachel sits at the dinner table, Cruv crawls to her chair, pulls-up to her side, and waits for a look.  As soon as she turns her head, he hides behind the chair and then pops-out, hides and pops-out, and hides and pops-out.  He plays peekaboo in anything

and with anyone (including himself).

Each time, he smiles and, sometimes, laughs.  On the floor, sitting-up between his Imama’s legs, Cruv grabbed the ball Yaron rolled to him.  And then he threw it back.  We played this game over and over, though sometimes Cruv’s hand shot back-and-forth with the ball firmly in his grip.  With Doda Li, Cruv  crawls around corners and giggles at his aunt’s surprise.  Of course, we play outside the apartment, too.  Cruv loves trips to the many local parks.  He swings, see-saws, slides, and more.

… Play (with Friends)
Under Kimberly’s loving watch, Cruv and Rio (who just celebrated his first birthday), really play (not just parallel play):  They stomp on the keyboard, Cruv pulls Rio’s curly locks, Rio leans on Cruv’s big melon, and they share  toys.  Cruv attentively watches Rio’s new developments (walking, stacking objects) and practices when he gets home.

Last week, when Kimberly went to a meeting, Rio came and played with Cruv at our apartment.  Though  Cruv’s Doda Li assisted for part of the time, when she took a phone meeting Yaron had two babies.  How did it go?  He paged Miriam, “Let’s have more babies!”  (muffinintheoven.com will not  relaunch just yet).

… Remember Distant Family
This month, Cruv’s Savta Sandra, Abu (unphotographed on this trip), Doda Li, and Imama visited.  He did not hesitate to leap into their arms and soak-up their kisses.

Cruv explored wine country with Savta Sandra, kept dry and giggly with his Abu when it rained all weekend, hiked Muir Woods with his Doda Li, and nibbled at the  the Ferry Building Farmer’s market with his Imama.  In each case, our guests joined our days in perfect rhythm and stride (even his Doda Li, a week after her marathon).  Their departures, though, always feel abrupt.

… Cruise
Cruv’s crawl is swift and smooth, but everyday he is more and more bipedal.  He can pull-up on a chair, wall, leg, door, or dishwasher and, as long as he can make the connection, he will stay upright until the route dead-ends.  With hands held (and even one hand held), Cruv walks a real distance and, just yesterday, before he lunged into Yaron’s arms, he stayed upright long enough for Miriam to go electric.  What a ride!
When there is a long way to go and a short time to get there, Yaron and Cruv helmet-up and ride.  As one of Miriam’s fellow residents (who sees the riders “all around the Mission–like once you see Waldo, he’s everywhere”) answered when asked if Cruv looked happy (happier than in the photo below): “He looks like an adolescent on a rollercoaster!”  Here we go!

… See Animals
In September, when Cruv visited New York, he toured Stone Barns–a sustainable farm on a Rockefeller Estate.  A few feet from sizable, snorting pigs,  Cruv’s gaze fixated on the fence that divided them.  In the past four weeks, Cruv visited the bustling and sunny Academy of Sciences (first with us and second with Doda Li) and the deserted and overcast San Francisco Zoo.  At the former, Cruv watched with delight as shimmering fish darted and fluorescent frogs hopped.

At the latter, in his Abu’s arms, Cruv watched bipedal gorillas and hungry giraffes, and petted cozy sheep and horned goats.  By the duck pond, Cruv echoed their quacks with squeals.  All along, Cruv huffed-and-puffed, grunted, and chirped with glee.

… Be an Infant Gourmand
As the seasons transition (enter winter squash, sweet potato, persimmon, citrus, etc)  and new foods are struck from the possible allergy list, Cruv’s palette and range develop.  We all await the first top tooth (his fourth bottom tooth broke through), for it will open new textural possibilities.

In the past weeks, here’s a sample of Cruv’s daily menus.  For breakfast: St Benoit yogurt with grapes or oats with raisins.  For lunch: maybe Lebanese couscous, avocado, and zucchini or French lentil salad (which he prefers to yellow lentils).  For dinner:  poached striped bass with fish fumet or dashi and tofu or brown rice with vegetable curry.  (Despite Yaron’s efforts at infant-gourmandism, Cruv also has snuck handfulls of dirt.  The first handfull, Yaron could claim degustatory curiosity; the second, not so much.)
All along, of course, Cruv’s day is punctuated by Miriam’s milk with, at least, a morning, afternoon, and an evening feed.  In absentia, the bottle still pinch-hits.

Afterword: Heart of the City (by Yaron)
Every Sunday and Wednesday, Cruv and I go to the Heart of the City farmer’s market via the nine bus.  In front of San Francisco General Hospital, with the saddest and sickest of the city, for whom Miriam cares every day, we wait for the bus.  Once aboard, we listen to the aimless murmurings of the mentally disturbed and impromptu counseling of recovering addicts.  Some carry bright-blue hygiene-bags courtesy of SFGH, others drag bags filled with cans and bottles.  They do not ride the bus like everyone, but they do with everyone.  At the farmer’s market, among shoppers of foraged mushrooms and heirloom beans, Thai eggplants and tomatillos, are the downtrodden and streetbound with food stamps.  Where were these people in New York?  Nearly every ride, the bus drivers answer this question.  Recently, on our way back from the market, an ashen man with droopy arms boarded the bus from a back door.  The driver called-out, “Do you have a pass?”  “No,” he said,  “I’m going to the hospital.  Is that okay?”  As she closed the door, she said, “Next time, board in the front.”  So speaks the heart of the city.