9 Months In, 9 Months Out

That’s right, folks.  Mr. Man is 9 months old.

We had his 9-month doc appointment two days ago and he promptly broke out into an angry, all-body rash that very morning.  He did the EXACT SAME THING for his 6 month visit.  I kid you not.  It’s like the little dude already has “white coat” syndrome or something.

Here are  his stats.  17 pounds, 13 ounces – 1oth percentile. 27 and 3/4 inches – 30th percentile.

Translation – I  might have birthed a munchkin.

And we’re wondering if he has a hollow leg because, seriously…he’s eating, like, every hour.

He’s also teething and has been a goblin for the last 2 weeks.  One top tooth finally poked through this past Tuesday, but no sign of the other one.  Which means we also might have given birth to a hillbilly.

Here are a few more photos from this shoot.  I wish I was this happy eating beets.

Mother. Kindly promise me that you’ll never use your own spit to style my hair again.

 

 

 

 

A Love Letter To My Son

Last night I heard Fox moaning and whimpering over the baby monitor. Usually we let him whine a little at night when we know he’s just woken up and is trying to get himself back to sleep. But lately he’s been teething those two top teeth and has been pretty miserable. Swollen gums makes for an unhappy babe.

So I sneaked quietly into his room, picked him up, did a quick diaper change and turned on his favorite little rock lamp that emits the coolest warm glow. Usually he’s not content to be rocked back to sleep. He’ll want to nurse. Then sit up and stare at the lamp. Then he’ll want to nurse more. And then he’s trying to talk to the lamp. This goes on a for awhile until I finally decide that he’s not really all that interested in nursing, but it’s a little late to be holding midnight meetings with the lamp. Sorry bud.

Last night was different though. He was tired and not feeling well. I sat down in the little rocking chair with him and he put his head on my shoulder.

Let me preface this by saying that Fox is not a cuddler. He’s too interested in all the fun stuff happening around him to relax. But last night was different.

For awhile he kept picking up his head to make sure the rock lamp was still there (just checking!) and then finally he settled. For a long while we sat rocking, his face turned towards mine and his head falling back enough that he could stare at my face. He curled his little feet in like a frog and had his hand on my chest.

His eyes got heavy but I could see him fighting the urge to sleep. Every once in awhile I’d see the Nuk go up and down.

I have known Fox for 8 months. Sounds funny to say that, but it’s true. I’ve been on this earth for 30 years and have known this little man for 8 months of those. And yet, out of all my accomplishments, triumphs and successes, he is by far my greatest pride.

On a typical Friday night, not too long ago, an evening would consist of getting gussied up and heading out to the bars. Now a regular night consists of celebrating when Fox hits a new milestone. I used to belt out Ludacris songs when they’d come on the jukebox and now I’m at home singing the ABC’s on repeat.

I have found my happy place. And I truly mean that.

I stared at Fox for a long while after he finally lost the battle to sleep. My arm was cramping and I was in an awkward angle, but I didn’t want to move. I looked at his little face and tried to imagine what he’d be when he “grew up.” Just like how I’d sit in that same chair while pregnant trying to envision the baby I’d be holding on the outside so soon.

I thought a lot about the overwhelming feeling of love I felt and how millions of parents of teenagers right now, who struggle to connect with their kid, remember back to nights like these when they quietly vowed to never let their child know how cruel life can be sometimes.

This parenting thing really is something, isn’t it?

It puts a lot of things into perspective. The meaningless stuff just seems so…meaningless. Family takes on a new definition. Saturday errands become an adventure. Life, as hard as it can sometimes be, seems to have a rosier tint.

I finally put him down in his crib and he curled up into the bumper pad. I stood over him for awhile smiling and thinking about how he finally mastered getting into a sitting position from his belly that very night.

And I whispered a thousand and one “thank you’s” into the silence because I couldn’t feel more blessed than I do now.

 

Oh So Guess What

El Duder-ino turned 8 months today.

We celebrated in our normal fashion which means we bathed him and then he horfed up his entire meal of apples, blueberries and oatmeal all over me and his pajamies.

Horfed. Like, for real. Imagine the color.

We party pretty hard around these parts apparently.

So without further ado, here’s my little barfing machine, hamming it up for the camera in his normal fashion.

 

Maui

Whenever something sad happens, my gut instinct is to sit down and write out my feelings.  I’m not one to internalize.  I need to talk about them.  Go over details.  Sort out all my messy emotions.  I am here to do that today.

After work on Tuesday, as I was driving home, my mom called me to tell me that she and my dad had to put our lab Maui down.

Unless you have a pet it’s really hard to truly understand the pain that comes with losing one.  These furry friends are more than just love embodied in 60 pounds of tail-wag.  They’re members of the family.  Shoulders that have been cried on many times.  Nonspeaking, nonjudgmental listeners.  It doesn’t matter how many times you get back from work, they’ll be excited each and every time you do.

They don’t even care if you have a terrible singing voice.

Which is why losing a pet is so hard.  They’re the embodiment of kindness.  Of everything good in the world.  Of pure, unadulterated love.

We got Maui 12 years ago when I was a senior in high school.  She came as a package deal.  When Kyle, my dad and I finally convinced my mom that we needed a dog, she decided that, heck, we may as well get two.  So we waited eagerly to pick up our Maui and Ashbury from the breeder.

Maui has always had a special corner in my heart.  She was the underdog.  The one that would let our neurotic, little Ashbury have the spotlight.  She was just happy to have a little love and a good belly scratch.

Knowing she’s gone feels like a chapter has closed.  I was 18 when we got her.  I’ve graduated, gotten married and had a baby since then.  Yet it still feels like yesterday I snuggled with that tiny puppy on that first car ride home.

It’s sad, but like many things, time will heal the strength of grief and I’ll be able to remember her sweet, little mug without tearing up.  But for now I’ll let my heart ache in it for awhile and miss my dog.

Love you, Mau-pie.

 

 

It’s A “We” Thing

We’re 7 months as of last Saturday. And yes, I’m going to be that uber annoying mother that uses the pronoun “we” when referring to my little man.

As in:

We’re finally getting teeth.

We like carrots.

We’re having trouble pooping.

That last one makes me slightly regret the “we” thing now.

Anyway. Here we are.

 

I Hold Grudges

Fox turned 6 months about a month ago.  Which means he’s almost 7 months.  Which means I never posted his 6 months photos.  Why?

Because damnit, WordPress!

Awhile back I decided I was going to write a post about something other than my pre-shuz baybee.  I know.  It’s tough for me to do that.  Because seriously.  I want to eat him sometimes because he’s that delicious.

But I digress.

So I wrote up this marvelous little post.  And it was pretty funny.  And you have to believe me about its “funny-ness,” regardless of if it ACTUALLY was funny or not, because this post did not happen.  Because WordPress lost it!

I hit the “publish” button.  Leaned back.  Waited for those comments to roll in.  Then realized it was asking me to sign into my account.

Well, ok.  I’ll sign in.

I did just that.  Then it took me back to my dashboard and my post was lost forever.  I checked my drafts and saw the first sentence typed out.

Then I hulk-stomped my computer out of anger.

I did not do that.

But I wanted to.

Damnit!

So I boycotted WordPress for a month.

WordPress did not know I boycotted them.

But in my smug little heart I felt better.

But I’m back because I just can’t stay away.  I do love you, WordPress, I really do.  But why you gotta do me like that, yo?

So I’m posting Fox’s 6 month photos, one month late.  And in a few days you’ll see his 7 month photo.  And then you’ll hate me because I’ll have gone back to “all baby-mode, all the time.”  Sorry for you non-mommy bloggers out there that just want to read about shoes – a topic that used to actually be of relevance on this blog.  One day, people.  I promise.  When he stops puking over the back of my shoulder and down my pant leg and onto those very same, sexy shoes I used to talk about.

Here’s Fox. 6 months of age.  Totally rocking the faux-hawk with the professional socks.  ’Cuz that’s my friggin’ cool kid right there…

 

5 Month Photos Means I’ve Been Neglectful

O.M.G.

A month has passed since I’ve updated all you lovely people.  I know this because the last blog post was to post Fox’s 4 month pics.  And here I come (a day late and a dollar short) to post his 5 month pics.

You haven’t missed much.  Here’s the Cliff Notes version.

Still no sleeping happening in our house.  In fact, Fox has reverted back to waking every 2 hours, so we’re actually sleeping less.  How’s that math for ya’?

Still nursing and pumping.  And nursing.  And pumping.  And cleaning pump equipment every night.  And pumping more.  And feeling like if I pump one more time I will possibly stab myself in the neck just to end the misery.  Oh. And having the building manager walk in on me while pumping.  That. Was awkward.  Not gonna’ lie…

We’re in the laughter phase, which is too damn adorable for words.  He’s slowly moving into a weird shrieking phase as of late, though, which is the cross between a scream and a dolphin noise.  He even carries on a for a few minutes, which leads me to believe that I might have birthed the very first human baby to ever speak “porpoise.”  Be jealous, ya’ll.

Work has been incredibly busy for me.  I plan parties.  I write flyers.  I go to meeting after meeting after meeting and then leave said meetings to go to another.  Then I go home and bring my work computer.

Oh, and then I do the mountain of dishes.

Woe is me, I know.

But that’s ok.  It just explains why you haven’t seen a post in forever.  But here’s some cute baby pictures for you to nibble on.

This is the best of the shots as he was full of pickle juice on photo shoot day (as he is most days), although I do believe the term is “spirited.”

Rolling with my fox homies, ya’ll.

Just all around confused here.  What do you people want with me?!

 

And just when you begin to think this child hasn’t learned the art of smiling…

He hits you with the one-two punch:

Have you come to rescue me?

Cloth-diapered baby bottoms…turning baby butts into J.Lo booties since 1865.