Angie Carlson’s Weblog

CBSNews:

The lead singer of The Wiggles, the hugely popular group that entertains children, is leaving the band because of a medical condition known as orthostatic intolerance.

Greg Page, also known as the Yellow Wiggle, is having difficulty with walking, balance, speech, and coordination, according to a Wiggles news release.
…
“This emotional decision was one which was very difficult, as I have dedicated almost half my life to The Wiggles, and with a question mark over my health, I feel that this is the right decision. I will miss The Wiggles and the other guys very much, as well as seeing all the children in the audiences that we perform in front of…”

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MercuryNews:

Temporary order allows vaccine containing mercury-laced preservative.

California officials agreed Thursday to temporarily allow children under 3 to get flu shots containing a mercury-laced preservative, after doctors warned that shortages of the mercury-free version could threaten children’s health.

“We feel it is important to offer this short-term alternative to parents and health care providers in order to ensure young children are protected from the potentially severe effects of the flu,” Kim Belshé, secretary of the California Health and Human Services Agency, said in a statement.

The exemption affects children under the age of 3 and will last six weeks, giving the manufacturer of the pediatric vaccine, Pennsylvania-based Sanofi Pasteur, time to ship about 500,000 doses of the vaccine without the preservative.

…

However, a state law banning thimerosal from vaccines given to pregnant women and children younger than 3 took effect this year, backed by groups that say mercury is linked to autism.

But the law can be waived when the pediatric vaccine is in short supply. That’s what four groups — the California branch of the American Academy of Pediatrics, the California Medical Association, the California Academy of Family Physicians and Kaiser Permanente — asked the state to do.

Our baby boy turned 11 months old this week - I can hardly believe how quickly the time has passed. His baby-like appearance is quickly transforming into that of a toddler. We are all attempting to get used to his changing appearance, advanced mobility, and awareness of his world.

There is no mistaking his toothy grin these days as a total of four seemingly over sized teeth have invaded his sweet mouth. He blows large saliva bubbles in the days before a new tooth emerges, and promptly falls and splits his lip. Brushing his new teeth with a finger-tip toothbrush brings a joyful end to his day.

The biggest accomplishment of the past month is, undoubtedly, walking. At the beginning of the month, Franklin was walking when convenience won. He was wobbly at best, randomly tumbling to the ground, or thrusting himself forward to his target destination so he could avoid that last, but quite necessary, step. He wasn’t in any kind of rush to make the transition to full-time walking.

One afternoon, Dane and I went to purchase new glasses. He got restless sitting in my arms, so I stood him on the floor beside me. Dane passed him a set of keys - certain it would keep our boy minimally content for a few minutes, at the very least. At precisely the moment that we believed we had him figured out, he jiggled the keys in his outstretched hand, and toddled toward the door. He squealed with delight as I chased after him. It was executed with such surprising precision that onlookers believed he had been walking for weeks, if not months.

Emerson is always eager to lend assistance by providing a running commentary of his walking progress — “Mama, you don’t [won’t] believe it! Franklin just turned!” and “Mom! Franklin’s walking!” and “Franklin’s a big boy now, just like ME!”

Ah, yes indeed. He is certainly becoming a big boy. A big boy who loves to climb. A big boy who is on the fireplace right now, as I type [excuse me]…a boy who thinks he has a sense of humor, and possesses the persistence of a telemarketer. A boy whose giddy giggles give it away — every single time.

Franklin has also learned to clap! He believes that every little accomplishment in life is worthy of a bit of clapping praise. I have no idea where he came up with that idea!

He walks with snail-like momentum. Step - clap - step, step - clap - step, step, step - clap - topple to the ground - CLAP, CLAP, CLAP.

When he is exceedingly proud of himself, the excitement gets the better of his hands. He must scroll through his myriad of acquired signs - nurse, more, and a pointing finger - before his palms manage to meet.

When I say, “yay!” he claps. When my hands fail to follow his lead, the smile washes off of his face.

Mealtime still stands as a favored activity. Franklin uses his new teeth to delicately nibble bits of crackers and veggies. Mimicking his brother, he blows on each piece of luke-warm food before placing it in his mouth. He realizes just how much potential a bite of room-temperature beans has to burn his big brother’s ever-so-sensitive mouth. It’s just not worth the risk.

After all this time, we discovered that our son actually does have taste buds! Yes, we were uncertain if he actually tasted the food that he so eagerly inhaled, despite his constant affirmations. At lunchtime, he was begging for a bite of my sandwich. He smacked his lips together, bounced his body up and down with excitement, and chanted, “yum yum yum.” Seeing as I wanted to eat my lunch in relative peace, I broke off a few pieces of my sandwich and placed it in front of his salivating self. He eagerly shoved a piece of mustard laden cheese into his mouth. His face scrunched up into a little angry ball as he gagged and clawed at his tongue, and was quickly followed by a harrowing wail.

He is certainly serious about his nursing. He gets my attention, points to the rocking chair, and signs “nurse” with a look of desperation on his sweet little face. Or when his tummy is really grumbling, he signs “eat” “nurse” “more” — my little baby is already quite demanding. On the rare occasion that Mommy is not available, he toddles over to Daddy with a blanket in hand, cautiously asking to nurse. Disappointingly, his efforts are only rewarded with a cup of water.

Franklin loves to share ice water out of our glasses. He toddles over and signs, “more” followed by “nurse” (which has become a sort of catch-all for thirst) and points to my glass. He gulps down some water, leaves a little backwash, and signs for more, and more, and more, even long after his lips have turned cold and blue.

After a meal, he empties the dishwasher as I attempt to fill it, sucking the soapy film off of each and every spoon. My only saving grace is when Dane announces that it’s time to go outside. Franklin tosses the silverware aside, and scrambles to the back door.

He has loved walking behind his little tricycle for months now, but the sky turned blue the day he was realized he could actually SIT on the bike. He stretches his legs and scoots around the house on his tip-toes, sputtering “vroom-vroom.” Life is good…until he runs out of straight-away spaces.

Franklin and Emerson share a special brotherly bond. They copy each other’s claps, tongue clicks and screams from across the table, or across the room, with increasing intensity and volume, until my eardrums want to burst.

Franklin has quite the affinity for computers. He loves tapping away at Emerson’s keyboard during an entertaining session of AlphaBaby. As boredom strikes, he turns the monitor off and on, and in a final act, tosses the mouse to the floor. As we walk past my computer, he points and utters, “com-u-er” — spoken like a true Carlson.

My little Franklin just loves to watch our goldfish. On occasion, he glances upward at the fish tank and whimpers, hoping someone with lift him into view. In Daddy’s arms, he motions toward the pretty orange fish and calls out, “fffffuh” or while on my hip he attempts to lure the fish closer with a quiet, “ish ish.” Though he tries, my poor baby can’t manage to form the entire word. Then, he reaches for the container of fish food. He is quite pleased with himself as he shakes the container, sending the fish into a swarming tizzy. He lunges toward the tank in a plead for someone to open the top of the tank. He gleefully dips his hands into the water and giggles as the fish brush his fingertips.

He gives hugs and kisses with a little “muh” and a smack of his lips, throws little fits that are as cute as can be, gives fantastic high fives, dances with remarkable rhythm at the first audible note of music, rips socks off his feet, and giggles with such ferocity as I tickle his tummy.

In a few short weeks our baby will be a year old; I’m not ready.

Pattern: Fiber Trends Jester Hat
Yarn: Brown Sheep Nature Spun (Husker Red, Impasse Yellow, Blue Boy, Elf Green)
Needles: Size 10.5