Like I knew you would

At long last, we celebrated Toddler J's birthday party. Once upon a time, I had visions of a themed event with colorful cupcake toppers, a train cake made out of cupcakes and hand decorated by me, matching decorations and invitations...and then I realized how utterly preposterous all that was, given my current condition and energy level and artistic talents, and I came right back down to earth.

Instead, we had homemade (a mix with add-ins) cupcakes modestly decorated with sprinkles, a store-bought birthday cake (our favorite store cake ever, by the way, so no one was disappointed), assorted kinds of ice cream and chex mix, and punch. Very low key, and even that was enough to stress me out during the day. But the party itself was fun. J had been looking forward to blowing out candles ever since he figured out what they were a little while ago, so he had a 2-shaped candle plus assorted others just for fun which he and I blew out together, to much fanfare.

J was overwhelmed when the first family arrived bearing a gift just for him (with a sparkly bow to boot) and simply couldn't BELIEVE that every succeeding family also brought something for him. It's nice to be 2 and so enthralled with the newly discovered conventions of the world! He got assorted cars and trucks and books and clothes and bubbles and he was in heaven! I even opted not to give him some of the gifts we'd gotten, in view of the largesse of his friends. Those will now be saved for new baby consolation and Easter gifts instead. And he'll be none the wiser.

So our "baby" is now officially. He can even carry on whole conversations: the other day we were looking for a desk and found a free-standing porch swing in the back of the store. We were all on the swing, and suddenly J said "E!" (the new baby's name). We said yes, since we've been prepping him about the new man in his life for quite some time, and then he said "Baby. Out. Down. Yay!" That's the most complete thought and longest almost sentence we've heard him utter. And it was almost biologically accurate, which was surprising. And the fact that it was about the imminent arrival of his new brother is icing on the cake!

I enjoy being a girl

Side Note: I've recently discovered I have all sorts of previously unrecognized readers out there, including the husband's grandmother/Baby J's great-grandmother (Hi, Grandma Van!). And, suddenly, I'm all self-conscious....does Grandma Van really want to hear about my bosom-induced swimsuit shopping travails?? It's almost enough to make me change my ways. Almost, but I'm too lazy! (Sorry, Grandmas Beth and Van!)

Moving on...should you have forgotten, I am raising a boy. Here are just some of the latest examples of J's boy antics:

Yesterday, I walked into the room and saw J sitting on the floor, staring delightedly at a new book. "Wonderful," I thought with pleasure, "he does like this one. What a good choice I made!" I was feeling quite self-congratulatory until I got closer...and saw the string of drool stretching from his mouth to the book. Indeed, in reality he was smiling in glee at having hocked his first loogie. What a treasure! (To give you some idea about my pleasure in that discovery, suffice it to say that in order to write this post, I had to look up how to spell both "hock" and "loogie," so foreign are these words to my vocabulary. Shudder!)

Later that same day, we went to the near-by park. Generally, we stick to the baby swings at this park, so as not to rumble with the older school-aged children who are having an after-school program at the community center there. This day, however, they weren't out playing, so J toddled over to the jungle gym, complete with stairs with multiple handrails (just for him) and three slides, all about four and a half feet tall. After rushing up the stairs, he was a bit confused about what to do next, until I sat him down on a slide and stood next to him as he slid down. He LOVED this and wanted to do it again, so, of course, he immediately tried to climb back up the slide in his plastic crocs, which resulted in his slipping and falling repeatedly. He was MOST put out that he couldn't get back up! Eventually, after I stopped laughing, I pointed him back in the direction of the stairs, and back up he went. Each time, I would point him to the stairs and then go and wait at the top of the slide to help him get situated, then meet him at the bottom. However, after three or four times down, he abruptly changed direction at the top and decided to go down another slide, far away from me, one we hadn't tried and one with twists. As I leapt over the intervening obstacles to get there in time, because WHO KNEW how fast this one was going to go, he also must have thought "Hey, going down on my bum is fun, but what if I just go down headfirst on my tummy?!" Just as I reached the bottom, his head hit my legs. Actually, I should say his smile hit my legs, because he was pleased as punch with himself. I, on the other hand, was a tad out of breath!

People have taken to calling J a "little bruiser," which isn't far from the truth. He walks like a little linebacker. He's also a bit of a daredevil: he has no fear, no inhibitions, and an uncanny ability to figure something out after having seen someone else do something similar once. A few days ago, I walked into the kitchen to find him halfway up our steel shelving unit. He's almost figured out how to climb out of his crib using a daring arial gymnastics move he invented after learning how to jump on his bed. Our dining room chairs now rest permanently on the dining room table when not in use, since he's learned to climb up on the table and launch himself off the side. He routinely attempts to jump out of, off of, or over anything or anyone that attempts to contain him. Sigh.....!

It's a masculine party around here, my friends!

Best kid in the neighborhood

I'm on another quest that is taking far longer than I anticipated. Luckily, I have started very early, many months early in fact, so I shouldn't lose my mind...much.

You see, I'm starting to think about transitioning J from the crib to a Big Boy Bed. Fortunately for him and his wildly acrobatic sleeping habits, "his" bed will also be our queen-sized guest bed, which will continue to double as a guest bed when guests appear. Sadly for me, queen-sized beds are not really the norm when it comes to kids' bedding, so my search has already run into a few snags. In addition, I really don't want to ditch the minimal decorating I've done in there already (ie the green curtains), nor do I want a design he'll grow out of in a short amount of time, so I have given myself other restrictions that are making searching even more fun than it already was!

Why all the earnest fuss? Because I've done my homework, and I understand that one of the keys to making a smooth transition is giving the child brand new bedding all his own. I can already see the logic of this. J loves items we make special for him, from his Big Boy cups to his J-only hiding places to his sleepy-time time teddy bear. So giving him a blanket picked out especially for him seems like a great idea.

But wouldn't you know it, the child industry has figured this fact out as well and raised the prices of such quilts and pillowcases accordingly. I mean, honestly, if anyone thinks I'm going to pay three figures for a machine-made quilt, they've got another think coming! And what is it about boys options, anyway? No, I don't want camo, or Camp Bravo, or Army adventure quilts, thank you very much! And can you explain to me the appeal of red, white, and blue designs? I can understand red, white, and blue nautical themes, but red white and blue planes, trains, and automobiles? Really? So far we've narrowed the suitable options down to sports (mainly assorted balls), some dinosaur options, and airplanes, not that J has shown any affinity for airplanes, but the designs are among the least obnoxious and often include some green in the color scheme, as do the other two.

Now, some out there might be thinking, why don't you just make a quilt with your new sewing machine? See my last post: my domestic skilz don't cover whole cloth creation, people! However, after seeing all these prices, I may change my mind! We'll see....

Big cheese, make me

Recently, while on a shopping trip, J tried a sample of beefy cheesy mac, macaroni and cheese with ground beef. To say he loved it would be putting it much to mildly. He inhaled the stuff, one generous scoop of it, and was crying for more.

So, I decided I would make him some macaroni and cheese at home as a treat, and I picked up some Kraft because that's what you eat when you want mac and cheese fast, right? But when I made it I thought, "This stuff is edible?? It hardly should count as food! I can't believe I'm feeding this to my child!" I went ahead and gave it to him, regretting it every moment. And he loved it, as did the husband later on, but I felt too guilty to ever serve it again.

However, I dreaded learning how to make macaroni and cheese from scratch. Down here, in the south, making this particular dish is serious business. Women hide their family recipes in locked cabinets, guarding their particular combination of cheeses like state secrets. Making a batch can take half a day and the praises can be sung for a week after it's served. Intimidating, to say the least.

So it was with great trepidation that I embarked on a mission to find a recipe for homemade mac and cheese that wasn't going to make me cry in frustration and take a year to prepare. Fortunately, I found, get this, a three ingredient recipe: noodles, grated cheddar cheese, and butter! Huzzah. It's prepared on the stovetop and takes about 13 minutes from start to finish. Of course, I couldn't just stick with the recipe as written, so I added some cream cheese because, well, I had it on hand. I also added some chopped ham and frozen peas and carrots, all of J's favorite foods wrapped in one cheesy package. And it was a huge success, judging by the quantity he ate and the two-fisted shoveling into his mouth going on.

Now, when I make it again, I will change the recipe slightly. For example, I don't think one needs all that butter, so I will substitute milk. And the key is the sharpest cheddar I can find and more spices (or any, for that matter). J was fine with the medium cheddar, but the husband likes things a little more flavorful. The ham I'll probably keep; it was a tasty addition.

Next food update: strawberry freezer jam!

Aquarius, Aquarius

Saturday was the big day: we finally took (not for much longer) Baby J to get his hair cut.

The trip was much needed, as you can tell from the last few pictures. You see, the husband was told by some superstitious women at work that it was bad luck to cut your child's hair before he or she turned one year old and, for some reason, illogic trumped practicality, and he insisted that we wait until then. So we did and watched J's hair, particularly his "bangs" get longer and longer and attract more and more food and stick out further and further when he woke up each morning. Until at last the day arrived and, after some protest on my part, off we went. (I was concerned that my squirrelly one year old wouldn't do well at a thoroughly adult barber shop.)

Fortunately, J was cooperative, Bubbha the Barber was quick and understanding, and the whole event was painless. It did take three of us, the husband to hold Baby J, me to distract him with the water in the counter sink, and the barber to swoop in and cut when J's fascination with the water overcame his wriggling or his distraction with the doorbell. But the ordeal wasn't really much of an ordeal, and we got the requisite lock of hair, and we even left with a certificate commemorating the first haircut. As the barber pointed out, now J won't have bad associations with getting his hair cut and will be eager to come back.

And he looks so cute, if so very, very grown up. See for yourself with these before and after shots. (And yes, our barber is wearing a KISS shirt and has multiple tattoos. Your point?)

And a happy new year!

Nothing momentous to report as the new year rolls in, just a few tidbits:

We celebrated with some friends last night, and after some yummy chicken taco soup and salad, there were many fireworks, set off by the husbands/dads. Baby J was fine for a while, if a little jumpy, but then melted down after one very, VERY loud offering that went off a little too close. Then it was a race against time, to see if, with much consoling and cuddling, he'd manage not to cry at every single firework display that followed and make it until the end of the show. He did, barely, but was not happy, by the end sitting there with a perma-pout that threatened to erupt into tears at any moment. It didn't help matters that it was freezing cold here last night, for the first time in ages, so he was wearing more clothes than he ever has and was wrapped in a fleece blanket besides. Baby J does not enjoy wearing socks since he so rarely has to and was particularly put out by the fact that we made him wear a hat. I stopped short of gloves, not wanting to fight that battle, too, and just insisted that he keep his hands in his pockets while I held him. AND, on top of all that, we kept him up a little past his bedtime! Bad parents!

J also played with a puppy yesterday, to his endless delight. We think he might have a word for dog, since he kept saying something very specific in reference to the little black miniature poodle. He liked the dog to be close enough to pet (or hit rather hard in his enthusiasm) but not close enough to get licked, which he did not enjoy. J also got nipped on the finger by Oreo, the puppy, who was also a wee bit too enthusiastic to see him, but after a few tears, J was ready to forgive and forget. In addition, J got to crawl around outside in the grass AND ride in a swing, so it was a happy day, if a terrifying evening.

As for me, today was triple coupons, so I went in the wee hours of the morning to stock up, this time on shampoo/conditioner, toothbrushes, cooking spray, sugar, and meatballs. Yes, meatballs, which I plan to use for Baby J's birthday or for the husband's sports fest, if he decides to have one. I was so early I had to wait for the official triples time to roll around, because even if you're a store that's open 24 hours, as this one is, your day apparently doesn't officially start until 7am. Slackers! Today we (Baby J and I) also got some sippy cups since we are soon making the move away from bottles and formula and toward milk and sippies. Once again, a whole new world of products to contend with. This time I read reviews online and consulted with friends before heading out to confront the bewildering options (showing I've grown at least I little during this whole "mom" thing). He uses take and toss sippy cups already for water, but I wanted something semi-insulated for milk and something new and FABULOUS to take the place of the bottles, which he will certainly miss. But it will be so great (for us) not to have to deal with formula when we go to England, and I KNOW they have whole milk there! We may keep a bottle for rocking to sleep purposes, but perhaps not, depending on how the great sippy transition proceeds. Da da da DUM!!

When you're a stranger

My child is a lady killer.

Yesterday, he managed to charm a woman in the parking lot. Who was still in her car. Through both our window AND hers. While belted into his car seat so he could only look at her obliquely. And even with all that, I think she would have taken him home with her in a minute if I'd let her.

This is not new, of course. Baby J has always attracted the older grandma set, particularly in the mall. He responds best to women with glasses, but he is also intrigued by headbands or scarves (this works for me as well; if I have my hair up in any way, he is absolutely fascinated with me for hours at a time). But he's no respecter of persons: if you smile at him and you're a woman, he's yours. He is less interested in men but is currently the only baby not afraid of our friend Spencer, so I think he's pretty ecumenical when it comes to his affections.

As he's gotten older, his attractiveness to the older women has increased, but now we've also added little girls to the list of those who can't get enough Baby J. One practically had a seizure in another parking lot yesterday as she excitedly pointed him out to her long-suffering mother. And nurses. Baby J loves nurses, and they love him. The husband is going in for some routine surgery today, and, at one point, his nurse spirited J away to do show him off to the "girls." Apparently, he performed well, even laughing for them, and she brought him back...eventually. The husband was about to call a "code pink" for a missing baby since she was taking so long, but I knew it was only Baby J's wiles that had captivated everyone is blue scrubs.

Surely, it's an advantage to be raising a charmer. People will forgive him a multitude of sins because he's just so gosh darn adorable! Then, of course, so will I!

I would not give you shelter

We have a giant bookcase in our family room and the bottom two shelves are pretty much dedicated to Baby J. One cubby houses his books, which he loves to pull out and then sit "reading," which really means moving them from one place to the other in a circle around him. He most loves to read books about animals, though his two favorite animal books are the largest and most unwieldy in his collection, so he struggles doggedly to maneuver them around and turn the pages. Every day, he pulls out all board books from the bookcase, and every night we put them back in so he can do it all over again.

In addition, the bottom level of the bookcase holds lots of boxes he can open. One contains a collection of rubber ducks, all of which were presents for the husband that are now entertaining his progeny. Most of the boxes, however, are empty, since there are very few things we can stand to see destroyed by his enthusiastic hands. One shelf does hold a wooden mortar and pestle that Baby J absolutely loves to play with. It makes a satisfyingly loud sound when he drops it onto the shelf or the hardwood floors, and noise is J's second love, after motion.

Yesterday he got to combine his love of noise with his third love, destruction. I let him rip apart a magazine I was going to get rid of and you would have thought I had hired a clown. J laughed big belly laughs every time he got a page free, and I gasped at his prowess with the ripping. He kept that up through the entire magazine, methodically and maniacally ripping out page after page and cracking himself (and me) up with each one. Perhaps it wasn't wise to encourage the ripping of magazines, but so far he's been good about telling real books, adult books, from magazines, the former he's not to touch, the latter his to do with as he pleases. And, of course, he's not allowed in the library unsupervised or at all, really, just in case he forgets!

She's just my type

Oh, the joys of childproofing. Once again, we visited the local home improvement store, this time seeking bolts to, umm, bolt various shelves and shelving units to the wall so they don't come crashing down on our agile offspring. We needed drywall screws and some other things that apparently don't exist, so we had to punt and make something up, again. We figured out how to use something called strapping to secure the kitchen shelves, requiring still more drywall screws.

We also determined that our lovely, large, and looming Expedit bookcase from Ikea has to be raised up over the baseboard, some 6 inches, in order to be bolted securely to the wall. After discussing our options, we decided we would use 2x12x12 boards screwed together to raise the bookshelf safely. Soo, we had to get our 12 foot boards cut into 6 foot halves. Ever had to haul wood to get cut at a home improvement store? With a baby? Awesome! Baby J sat in the shopping cart calmly while we hauled the first board far away from him (though still within eye sight) but protested about the second and began to cry when we went to get the cart to haul it all away.

And then there was the saw. Loud and whining and not much liked by baby J. But it had to be done. Now we can make more of our house less of a hazard, our ultimate goal. And our fixes will not be tooo much of an eyesore, we hope. Because aesthetics are really not the main concern...but I kind of like the way things look, you know? So there's that!

In the meantime, we are teaching J how to tell by the tone of our voices that chewing on cords or grabbing the guitar or emptying the kitchen trash are not activities of which we approve. So far, he's taking this tone to mean he needs to giggle and start to scuttle away as quickly as possible. Not exactly what we had in mind...but it will do in a pinch!

When good comes to bad

The Mission: design something that will house all the many cords under your desk so as to save your child from electrocution and protect the tech. Said device must be flexible in size since the number of cords varies depending on the electronics at work. The device must also allow for cords to be collected in one place but still reach the power strips and the electronics themselves.

The Stipulations: said device must be aesthetically pleasing enough not to be an eyesore in your main living space but completely unattractive to a small, curious, crawling baby who thinks cords are just the thing for teething. Oh, and apparently such a device as the one you want doesn't exist. Which makes, you know, no sense at all in this day and age.

The Challenge: visit home improvement stores and try to explain your thoughts to various employees, all of whom look at you with either confusion, condescension, or pity. Control your urges to throttle them and instead act sad and pathetic and dumb so they will help you. Count your lucky stars when one of your former students appears and, since apparently you gave him a good enough grade that he still likes you and he's wearing a name tag so it appears as if you remember his name, decides to help you figure out what sorts of materials you'll need for this contraption.

The Unlikely Suspects: after much debate and consultations with other employees (now happy to help when approached by one of their own), you decide to purchase a wire drawer (the kind meant to slide into a closet organization system) and a roll of thick vinyl shelf liner you have vague notions will line the inside of the drawer which you plan on turning upside down over the mass/mess of cords. You then use your hole punch and white ribbon to attach the tan liner to the inside of the white metal wire drawer.

The Results: a few mismeasurements and false starts later, you have a cover which has a conveniently large mesh top through which the husband can feed the cords on their way to various tech devices while at the same time has covered sides so that no cords or attractive blinking lights are visible unless one is directly on top of the device. Once all the cords are stowed away and those leaving on their way to powering the electronica are corralled with the help of a simple twist-tie, the baby shows absolutely no interest in the new addition. Success!!

All through the town

OY and VEY!!!

I thought I had adjusted fairly well to motherhood, finally. I was feeling more rested, more secure, less frazzled, less crazed....And then J began crawling. And then he really got in the groove. And I spent most of today running after him or running ahead of him, pulling cords out of his mouth, rescuing the husband's guitar from enthusiastic but certain destruction, sticking outlet covers on outlets he found by the minute, extricating him from underneath chairs and between the sofa and the wall, finding new places for trash cans he dumped onto the floor, comforting him after he pulled himself up on unstable furniture and inevitably fell down, sweeping up dead bugs he uncovered in the most unexpected places....And I had a vision of my life for the next foreseeable future and realized how very, very busy I'm going to be just keeping him from killing himself.

The upside is he apparently understands the word "no" or at least the tone of voice in which I said no when he was eating the computer cord or when he had a wrapper halfway down his throat. And he always responds to his name, or at least he did when I would walk into the room where I had just left him and he would have disappeared, only to reappear with a grin from behind or under something when I called for him. He's very cute when he crawls happily along and is in a very good mood about it, even as I am taking things away from him every 30 seconds.

SIGH!

Sweetly singing all the day

I have been slacking. So many J milestones have been reached lately and I have barely even noted them in his baby book, let alone extolled them here. I repent:

Sleeping: J has now slept through the night by himself without a middle of the night feeding twice in a row. We are keeping our fingers crossed! The first time was an accident: he'd had a really bad, no nap day, so by the time the husband got here, we were both exhausted. I went to bed pretty quickly and slept like the dead. I woke up at 2 am and realized the baby monitor was off and for some reason, in my stupor, I left it off. At 5:00 I got up and turned it on (I was more conscious then) in a fit of guilt. At 5:30 am he cried out a few times, I got dressed (bible study at 6:30) and by the time I made it to his room, he was asleep again. And not a peep until 7:15 am, the longest he has ever slept in his life. So last night we repeated the process of leaving the monitor off, though this time I woke up every hour or so just to listen for him, and he made it til 6:30 am without complaint...or at least without complaint that we heard. Which is as good as the same thing. We had been in the middle of night weaning as it was, with strange results: him rejecting food at all until 4 or 5 am, which led me to believe he might just wean himself, which he did, apparently. In addition, he's a pretty good napper now who still takes three naps a day, though these last days of lots of night sleeping have changed his daytime sleeping a bit. I think we may be moving toward two naps, but we shall see. The late day naps are short, just to get him (and me) through the afternoon. Look at me, sounding all calm about J's sleeping! Could this be the same Mommy as before???

Teething: J's third tooth came in today, meaning the last two nights are even more remarkable. This one's on the top, making him, in my mom's words, dangerous. He already uses his two bottom teeth to do serious damage to a banana, taking chunks as big as his head if you let him (he doesn't want to eat little pieces of banana, no no no, he wants to eat like the big people). I shudder to think about how much he'll be able to hack off now!

Crawling: J took his first little crawling steps two days ago and is getting more sure of himself with each day. He had to fight against his general laziness to get this far and still doesn't want to practice or exert himself too much. He'll go six or seven steps and then give up until you come to him or give him what you want. He knows I'm weak. But we are well on our way to a hyper mobile child, so the childproofing must be done in earnest now. Those cords and outlets are just too tempting. And today he almost knocked over the guitar, which would have made the husband very sad. A total house reorganization is in order. It was in order months ago, but well, you know, we're slow.

Growing: Our nine month appointment is coming up, so we'll get the official stats then, but last time we checked (a few weeks ago when we went in to get the right antibiotics), J was in the 75th percentile for height and...well...he IS the 100th percentile in weight. He's off the charts! He fits comfortably into 12 month clothes and even some 18 month outfits if they've shrunk just a touch. And he really isn't that great of an eater. He drinks minimal bottles and eats only that which can be mixed successfully with sweet potatoes or cottage cheese, so you wouldn't think we would be this chubby but there he is! And it's cute, cute, CUTE!

I think that about covers the new news. Whew, I'm caught back up. And so are you!

Have a heart

The Lowcountry Heartwalk was yesterday, and we were all there with bells on. Make that athletic gear on. Even J was decked out in his velour Radio Flyer tracksuit, which I thought might be overkill and too warm but which turned out to be perfect, given the vaguely nasty turn the weather took. Very cool temperatures with spitting rain, great for us walkers but bad for babies in strollers.

We left the house at 7:30 am and went downtown for the opening ceremonies. There were lots of health-related booths giving out the usual trinkets, including the survivors' tent where this year they were giving out specific white stroke survivor hats for the first time. So I got one of those and some blueberry scones and some cinnamon rolls and shared with the husband, who could only get a banana or an apple, not having had a stroke, you see. The bandstand microphones were unnecessarily loud, and I was worried J wouldn't even get a hint of his morning nap, but we bundled him up under a blanket, and, by race start time, he had fallen asleep, loud noises notwithstanding. He stayed that way for a while, but even his exhaustion wasn't enough to overcome Charleston's ancient and therefore awful sidewalks. Thank goodness for safety straps or he would have been ejected from his seat several times!

The race route took us through downtown, around the Battery, and back again. It was a grey day, bad for tourists, perfect for a health walk. We finished in record time (for us), got out the parking garage almost as quickly, and went out for brunch (because there's nothing better to do after a walk for heart health than have an island potato casserole at the Charleston Cafe, now is there? (Umm, yes, that would be scrambled eggs, tomato cream sauce, turkey, and bacon on a bed of grilled peppers, mushrooms, and onions over "chippers," thinly sliced fried potatoes. Ahem.)

Then, later that afternoon, we bought a new stroller, because the husband got a blister using the one we have, which is just a TAD too short for him and, apparently, causes him bodily harm. And the new stroller just happens to be GREEN! Huzzah!

Country road, take me home

I realized we've become sort of housebound lately. At first, I was enjoying not having to go into work, then we were trying to stay at home to get into a regular nap schedule, then there were projects, then I was trying to save money by not spending more of it, then gas got to be its own line item in the budget...and before you knew it, we'd become hermits, J and I. So now I'm making a concentrated effort to get us out of the house at least a little.

Luckily, Mommy and me activities will start at church soon, once the back-to-school craziness has subsided (in which craziness I am not participating for the first time since my mission!). And we've mapped out a busy schedule of "wee reads" sessions at some of the local public library branches (4 of which are very close to us), aka story time for the 0-24 month crowd. We're also working on getting in and staying in the morning walk routine, which J love loves, and I need need (ahh, the lingering baby weight, how I curse you!). Once it's not so gosh darn hot here, say in another month or so, I'm also going to institute an evening walk as well, I think, though that one is tricky since J likes to fall asleep while walking in the evenings, thereby causing much havoc with his bedtime. Maybe we'll walk at the beach, since the wind and the waves might be enough to keep him awake. Maybe. But all in all, we need to get out some more.

Funnily enough, my two jobs at church don't really necessitate us giving up our shut-in status. Seminary takes place in our living room weekday mornings, and working in the women's organization presidency means I send a lot of emails and make and take food to events pretty regularly, but most of the real work takes place at night meetings, when the husband can take J, so it doesn't really count as getting "us" out of the house.

So the goal is clear: get out regularly. Seems reasonable enough, right? Let's hope so!

Right round, baby, right round

I know I blogged about this before, but these pics deserve more time in the sun. How fun does this look? (Though I will, of course, have to draw the line at cutting bread into shapes!)

You smile in your sleep

It appears to be official. I didn't want to jinx our results, so I didn't blog about it this time, but 5 days later, it appears to have stuck.

Ladies and gentlemen, we now have a sleeper!

Yes, that's right, J has taken to round two of sleep training like he was just waiting to do so, and he has become a bonified sleeping baby. He sleeps through from 8 until his feeding at 1-ish and then goes right back to sleep until 5-ish. He takes a morning nap, a mid-day nap, and often a later afternoon nap, all with either no crying at all or two minutes worth, after which he stops abruptly, turns onto his stomach, and goes to sleep. He goes to sleep in his crib, without being rocked to within an inch of his life, without hour-long marathon sessions to get him down, without much complaint, sometimes without any.

Frankly, it's amazing. Everyone is sleeping better and it's great. Actually, great is perhaps too tame a word. We are all deliriously happy with this development. I read Ferber's book from cover to cover in preparation, trying to get a handle to sleep phases, sleep cycles, the thinking behind allowing the baby to cry, possible medical and non-medical reasons for sleep disturbances, etc., largely to convince myself that this guy knew what he was talking about and was basing his ideas on as much science as possible (he does and he is). Then the husband took over the weekend nights' training, because I knew I would be too weak to stick with the program as outlined in Ferber's handy charts while sleep deprived. I handled the naps. The first night there was some extended crying but not really that much, and then J seemed to accept the new regime pretty readily. Napping was a little more touch and go, largely because he's not on some sort of nap schedule and needed a little convincing to get on one. But now he's fine with naps, too.

If there's a downside to this new development, it's that so far J seems to be sleepier than ever, wanting to take at least those three daily naps and still sleeping in the car and being more crabby than usual in between sleeping periods. Before, on 15-25 minute naps and after waking up every hour after midnight every night, he was always cheerful during the day. Now, after uninterrupted sleep at night and numerous naps throughout the day, he has become a bit more whiny, needing more interaction to be happy and amused. But I'm guessing his behavior will normalize after he gets used to things a bit more. After all, it hasn't even been a week of sleeping yet, so this is all still a shock to his system.

But this is just a bit of tarnish on our silver lining, nothing we can't handle. In the meantime, the baby is SLEEPING!!!

Let's all just take a moment and let that sink in. Ahhhhhh......

Now on to the controversy. Anyone who has been parenting lately and has access to the internet knows there is a HUGE debate going on between the attachment parenting devotees and the cry it out supporters. Both sides weep and wail and gnash their teeth at each other, throwing loud and long and enduring assertions of child abuse and emotional distress and impracticality and pseudo-science back and forth on message boards and websites and blogs, often coming to virtual blows. And as with any ideologies, there are extremists on both sides who seem equally insane (at least to me). For a long time, I resisted Ferber largely because I didn't want to have to wade into this morass, even if only mentally. But his method clearly is working, at least for us, at least for right now. And I can say honestly that after reading his book, I feel like most of the characterizations of his methods out there are largely unfair and based on a limited understanding of what he is trying to accomplish and why. To read some people's indictments of his ideas, you would think he wants you to throw babies on a bed and walk away for good to eat bonbons with nary another thought, just because he's mean like that. In fact, nothing could be further from the truth. Reading his text impressed upon me the deep sympathy he has for children who can't sleep and his genuine desire to help everyone, children and parents, succeed at sleep.

And right now, our success is all the proof we need of his sincerity.

I saw my baby

We're already into month 6 of J's life and though I'm not one to wax sentimental about...well...anything, really, there are some pieces of him that I have enough experience now to recognize as fleeting that I want to remember next month and years from now. For example, right now J and I do a LOT of rocking. We rock while he takes his bottles, we rock to sleep for naps and at night, we rock while reading stories, we rock when he feels bad, we rock during some naps, we rock and rock and rock and it often ends in sleep. But J is the kind of baby who want to be totally asleep before you put him down or else he protests loud and long. And I have discovered that there is one sure fire and adorable way to tell if he's really asleep: when he officially drops into REM sleep, he always smiles in his sleep and, more than half the time, he chuckles, a deep throaty sound that always makes me want to laugh (but I don't, because, clearly, why ruin all the effort to get him there in the first place?).

Next, J has some funny physical quirks that he will most likely grow into or out of. He still sucks his tongue and his lips enthusiastically, as he has since he discovered he could. He has also become very fond of his right foot and putting it in his mouth, a relatively new feat. He also becomes rigid and shakes when he's very excited or very disturbed by something, usually the former, a little trick my mother says I used to do as well, so I've decided not to see these fits as seizures but as inheritance.

Because he has us for parents, J also loves music. His favorite tune to "dance" to right now is "Eye of the Tiger," during which I hold him on my lap and he bounces to the very strong opening beat. But any music will do: he lets me sing endless Primary songs and snippets from musicals and made up lullabies every day and lately the husband has taken to singing to him from the church hymnal when he's restless, in addition to the constant singing the husband engages in whenever J is around, serenading him with everything from Cake and U2 to John Denver and Al Green. J himself doesn't do much singing yet, but he will contentedly and absorbedly listen to anything we throw at him. And he LOVES any of his toys that make noise, of which there are few because his mother is an ogre with a very sensitive sense of hearing. Or, as the husband puts it, "Mommy is a music hater."

He's been vocalizing up a storm for some time now, but for some reason J's favorite place to "talk" is the changing table. Get him with his pants down and he becomes a chatty Kathy! One of his favorites sounds for all the world to me like "gully, gully, gully," and he usually says it with his fingers in his mouth (which is why I'm not entirely sure what he's actually saying, but who cares?).

J is also a ladies' man, and any lady will do, not just mommy. Regardless of the woman in question, he will stare at her until she notices him and then grin for all he's worth. He looks like he's going to crack his face open. It's pretty darn cute...and a little pathetic!

Shadows still fascinate the little guy, enough that if we don't watch him, he'll stare straight at the sun through our sheers in his quest to find as many shadows as possible. He can be entertained pretty reliably for quite a while looking at shadows on the walls of our house, making our many windows even more of a good investment!

There's more, of course, but entries have to stop some time. Fortunately, his growing and changing won't!

Talking it over

As a new parent, I have a hard time distinguishing between singular events that mark the beginning of trends and singular events that really are just one time occurrences. So I often find myself thinking things like "well, he sat up unassisted. Does this mean we can now look forward to many hours of unassisted sitting?" Answer: yes, yes indeed. But then..."well, he slept seven hours. Does this mean we can now look forward to many hours of sleeping at one stretch?!" Answer: decidedly not. But how can one tell??

Case in point: we started J on solid food this week (for real, after some abortive attempts in UT). And when I say "started," I mean "we gave him rice cereal which he inhaled neatly and efficiently in greater and greater quantities." So, I'm thinking, "well, he likes to eat. Does this mean he's a good eater?" Answer: not so much the last two days, wherein he eschewed all cereal at any time in any quantity, writhing and screaming in his high chair until released and/or given a bottle. So when does eating or liking to eat or not liking to eat become the harbinger of itself? I can't know, it seems, which is distressing but not, after all this time, unexpected.

In other news, six month old J has lost the little excess furry hair behind his ears, so that's a relief. He's also started to verbalize A LOT and contort his mouth in funny ways as he learns to use the muscles in his face. He's not much into mimicry yet but remains fascinated when you respond to his "talking" with similar-sounding chatter, so I'm sure it's not far off. He has become a champion sitter with only occasional toppling over, mostly when he's tired. And he continues to charm the socks of anyone around him with his million dollar smile (which I can't wait for him to learn to use for his own ends--watch out!). Check out the new pics in the gallery under 6 months to the present--someone should pay me for those shots!

As for me, I'm hoping to discover a "sleep through the night" trend soon, and I'm glad my class will only last for two more weeks. Hallelujah!

Shine the light

Sleep is for the...baby? In a complete turnaround of events, last night was actually a relatively good one on the sleep front. Jacob went down really early, 6pm, after having virtually no napping (shocking!). But then he woke up soon thereafter and was awake, awake, awake. As in let's go for a jog awake, let's solve some quadratic equations awake. But I was not having it, his real bedtime having arrived by now. So we read some stories (reluctantly on his part) and rocked and sang and after longer than I would have wished but not too, too long, he fell back asleep.

And then he stayed asleep until midnight and I fed him as usual. And then, bleary and half asleep myself, I went to back to bed. And at 4:30am, I woke up with a start. Why? Because I'd forgotten to turn on the baby monitor, that's why. And though I'm fairly certain J woke up as usual between 2 and 3:30am, I didn't hear him, so he must have gone back to sleep because he was slumbering peacefully when I checked. And he stayed that way until almost 6 when he was ready to eat again.

Now, the question becomes can I overcome my guilt over not hearing him and let him do it again tonight? Because I'm fairly sure he doesn't need to eat more than once in the night, and now I have evidence he can survive without me or the bottle. And I have to say, I enjoyed the uninterrupted sleep! And perhaps he did, too? Since he woke up all smiles this morning as usual, none the worse for wear. It could be that he didn't actually wake up, and that's why I didn't hear him cry, so we'll have to see what happens tonight.

Could that be a teeny tiny little speck of a glimmer of light at the end of this very long, dark tunnel...?