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Yesterday, Nathan was “helping” Maria unpack some odds and ends that had been on shelves in the apartment when he noticed a mannequin hand Maria picked up years ago from a junk seller in the Netherlands. He got an upset look on his face, shied away and circled around to hold Maria’s leg. He wanted nothing to do with the fake hand and would not go near it even after we demonstrated that it was okay.

What’s interesting is that it was one of the first things he stole off a shelf when he started standing up from a crawl. When he first learned to walk, at ten months, he would take that fake hand and carry it around like any other toy. I guess he knows that hands are attached to a person at the arm and there’s something not right about one that isn’t. I admit it’s a kind of creepy object but it’s amazing how he integrated that himself.

Oh, and since he dislikes the fake hand, we’re making use of it as a talisman to keep him from touching Maria’s laptop and stealing the keycaps and mouse. I don’t expect the deterrent to last long. He approached from the other side and opened the drawer today. That desk drawer is going to need a hasp.

I walked to the CVS Pharmacy and noticed some product placement in with the baby supplies. At the end of the aisle, after you pass diapers, wipes, ointments, bottles, teethers and pacifiers, is a six foot tall rack of Red Bull energy drink. I don’t think this is a coincidence. I’m amused at the thought of the marketers sitting around saying, “We’ve done formula one and nascar and we’ve got the whole extreme sport thing covered, who else will buy this?”

Mildly nasty little enterovirus. Toddlers drool, drop food and toys on the ground and pick them up, put any odd thing in their mouths and generally have no idea of hygiene. Perfect vector, these kiddies. Poor kid had textbook symptoms: fever, irritability, malaise, loss of appetite, red sore patches in the mouth, a day of diarrhea and when the fever broke he developed red spots on his arms and legs. He bounced back today and the spots should disappear in a few days.

You may recall that the last time Nathan was sick he passed it on to me. I must be lucky, he got me again. I understand why he was cranky, it’s pretty miserable, like having a mild flu but with a sore throat. Maria, fortunately, has not come down with it.

One year old. You have no idea why people brought gifts and sent cards (though you liked it), or why we ate cake (though you liked that, too) or why everyone clapped and sang a song you didn’t know that had your name in it (you liked that a lot).

We’re closing on the purchase of our house tomorrow. I should be nervous but I’m not, not the least bit. I’m relieved. You see, after nine years of on and off looking we found the house in the neighborhood in the city we hunted all over the New York Metropolitan area for. It happens to be 140 miles away. A detail. Unless our lawyer, their lawyer or the bank’s representative experiences spontaneous combustion, UFO abduction, untimely demise or otherwise is a no-show (in the last case someone will experience their untimely demise- maybe the creative use of one of those soft-rubber-handled stainless-steel melon ballers. Mmmmmmm, clean, perfect scoops), the deal should be done in time for the start of happy hour. If anyone screws this up, it’s probably going to be the bank. They neglected to give us the figures for our bank checks and to get the title sorted out with the reasoning that, “It’s not until Monday afternoon.” Maybe I’ll use a grapefruit spoon.

Did I mention we’re moving Friday? Oh, a detail. Two-thirds of our stuff is boxed or ready for the movers. There are a lot of small things left, like packing overnight bags and emptying the dressers, and not so small things that have to wait for the next to the last day, like my office. We’re turning up the gas and electric tomorrow- emailed the request, faxed in documentation, they called us back to confirm. If Verizon and Time Warner can do it we’ll have phone, cable and internet by the weekend but I’m betting not. I’m irritated that these bright-futured communication companies can’t or won’t do more in the scheduling of residential service than they did in the 1950’s. They could learn a bit about customer service from, of all places, the power company here.

You wouldn’t know it from the sedimentation on my home office desk but I am organized. I like organization and moving disrupts that, I’m depending on a lot of other people, it makes me anxious. Nathan is not taking this move well either and it’s easy to see why: he’s teething- miserable in it’s own right- and the apartment is a maze of boxes stacked taller than him; it’s hot and muggy (ah, summer in Brooklyn…) and the daily routine is not being followed; both Mom and Dad are tense and not paying him the 100% attention he expects (where do babies get this insistent idea that the world does, in fact, revolve around them?); to top it off, Mom and Dad keep pulling these squeaking reels of tape around the boxes.