My, but I am turning into one of "those" moms, gushing about how amazing my boy is.
Well- he is!
He turned 7 months old on October 6, sharing the day with Aunt Candi. He weighed in over 14 pounds and is over 24 inches long. His hair is a lovely golden brown with some wave and curl, his eyes are a bright blue with a delightful crinkle when he laughs. Pardon my gushing, he's gorgeous.
Oh, his laugh! He finds joy in most everything, especially other people's friendly faces and, in true boy fashion, especially the faces of pretty girls. His smile is wide and uses is whole face, with lots of gum!
HIs army of babysitters share equal custody in adoring him. Nicole, our summer "super nanny," watches him from time to time when her school schedule allows and Dave and I take in a date night; Miss Katie arrives with a giggle and loves to rock him in his swing; and Regan is his skater-sitter, who takes a break at the rink to watch him while I get my session in.
What he has also developed is a full belly giggle, which we got to hear for the first time yesterday. I blew a few raspberries at him, and his laugh was big with a "hee hee, hee hee." so of course I exhausted him by making him laugh over and over again.
What is making all of us a little more cheerful is the introduction of solid food! First came the cereal mixed with formula, with some mixed results since SOMEONE hates high chair dining. But then came carrots, which was consumed with enthusiasm; sweet potatoes were just sort of "eh"; green beans make the boy downright hostile; but peas have been the palette pleaser as his little dish emptied quickly as his greedy little mouth opened over and over with a big yummy smile. We have also introduced wheat cereal and cereal with bananas. The result? Fewer feedings and someone sleeping through the night which means mom and dad can sleep through the night!
And he's got more wardrobe changes than Madonna on a world tour. That's what happens when you are a handsome young man that burst out of your 0-3s, filling out your 3-6s, and is not the neatest of eaters. And you drool - alot. And your toesies need to stay warm since autumn arrived with a bitter freeze this morning, necessitating footed sleepers.
And finally, some really good news. For the month of September, we tapered Will's dependency on oxygen a little bit at a time. First, 2 hours at a time, then 4 hours at a time. Now, he is oxygen dependent 12 hours on/12 hours off. That means when running errands, I only need the baby, the stroller, the diaper bag, a car seat, a blanket and maybe the car seat cover.
We will post some pictures soon, as we took yet another money shot just to show is incredible growth. There's video of his first dinner too, I'll have Dave put it up.
Posted at 01:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)
As a new mom on the edge of four-oh, every fiber of my being (esp. the scalp) is rejecting the Kate Gosselin hairdo.
Just say NO ladies!
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I am now getting 3-5 child-rearing magazines a month. I have not paid for a single subscription, but I'm guessing as a new consumer of miniature goods, these periodicals have come courtesy of the fine maker of said products.
Along with the glossy, tantalizing ads depicting model babies in dream houses comes the stern advice of MDs, RNs, MSWs and moms-in-the-know. Some of the advice has been informative, some comforting, lots that has been alarming, and most of it is scolding us into creating a hospital-like environment devoid of any and all germs and sharp corners.
I've tried to follow most of the advice to the letter to earn my stripes as a good mom. That didn't last past the first Nuk hitting the sidewalk. So, I think I may qualify as a bad mom because...
...instead of sanitizing Nuks that hit the ground, I use "mom"itizer, and give it a quick swish in my mouth.
...I haven't washed a load of clothes in Dreft since May.
...we let him sleep on his stomach now without sweating SIDS, too much anyway.
...he's already had his first tastes of beer (yucko), wine (yummy), ice cream (jury is still out) and whipped cream (delicious).
...his first word may very well be %#!*&as mommy slams her big toe into his crib at 3am on a regular basis and utters these fine words.
...I sometimes try to cram his flailing arms and legs into outfits that are too small simply because he was so cute in them and I want to see him in them "one more time." (Nature usually wins that battle and I'm left sweaty and teary but also relieved that the boy is growing up.)
...instead of nursery rhymes which I find dull, I croon for him rock songs in a made-up melody. You should hear my lullabye version of "Pretty Vacant" by the Sex Pistols.
...instead of running out to buy the latest, greatest crap on the market, I've been bargain hunting at garage sales. I recently scored a jogging stroller for $10! I've also utilized the freecycle community and got a baby swing for free - who cares if the battery door is gone, that's what duct tape is for. To check out the freecycle community in your area, check out freecycle.org.
...when he's crying and I don't know what's wrong, I squeal right back at him and that usually makes him laugh and stop crying. (Before you turn me into CPS, I never shout, yell or shake the baby.)
...playing superbaby also helps calm him down, but not sure if that violates any "support the head" rules. All I know is he loves it, I work my triceps, and occasionally get drooled on.
Posted at 04:25 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)
We have some good news in the guise of the boy attempting to sleep somewhat through the night, as long as he is fed 'round midnight and again 'round 6am. He does a quick catch-up during the morning, chowing down every two hours until re-pacing himself for the afternoon.
Wow, that is as boring as I imagined. I guess that is the good news, he is just growing and eating and playing and laughing and there's nothing more dramatic to report.
Posted at 09:35 AM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)
Just typing that seems surreal - it's been five months already? Although he has still spent more of his young life in the hospital instead of home, the NICU seems as if it were a distant memory.
Nonstop doctor visits are still a common occurance. Thankfully, the news is consistent and good. Will is progressing along as a very normal, happy baby on par with where he is supposed to be gestationally. That is, he may be a 5 month old baby, but he is acting and developing like a 2 month old.
And that's ok!
He's had three appointments in the last week, and the reports are wonderful. His eyey doctor is happy to report that his retinopathy (immature/premature eyes) has disappeared and he has passed all vision tests as normal.
His checkup with the health department was equally positive, as the nurses there said his appetite is strong and physcially he is catching up with his peers, although he is still on the small side. The Neurodevelopmental specialist was completely enthralled with him as he laughed and flirted with her while passing all of his social and reflexive tests.
On top of all of this, he's busting out of the 0-3s. Newborn clothes went by the wayside a long time ago.
For official stats, he is over 21 inches long, bouncing between 10 pounds 11 ounces and 15 ounces with a nice noggin measurement of 15 inches. Cousin Madeleine is most impressed with his eyes, and agrees that they look like "two big marbles."
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So I took the boy to get his 4 month shots today at the pediatrician's office. The nurses went from friendly to stern, and said "you have to hold both legs firmly since we do not want the needles to break off in his thighs."
WHAT!?
So I have death grip on the boy's thighs, and they both stick him with needles.
Will lets out a blood curdling cry, followed by one of those cries that is so anguished that no sound comes out, he just turned beet red with two fat tears in his eyes.
I lose it, and start shaking as the nurses allow me to pick up my child, who suctions himself to my shoulder.
He was over it in less than 2 minutes, yet still I'm traumatized. Nurses took it in stride and said all new mom cry.
No one told me about this!
Posted at 03:59 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)
Ah! July 17 was Field of Dreams day for the West Michigan Whitecaps. One of my favorite games of the year, it was fitting that it be the boy's first-ever baseball game. In attendance were mom and dad, Aunt Gia, grandma and grandpa Garland, 'Uncle' Scott and Matt, and 'aunts' Becky, Denise and Jen, great Uncle Jerry and cousins Scott and Jane.
The Whitecraps crushed the Chiefs 9-0, an old-fashioned rally with home runs, triples and plenty of action and plenty of cheer. WE played pass the baby, with everyone getting the chance to love on Will.
Mom had a hot dog and some of Aunt Gia's nachos. Dad had peanuts and beer. Will had a bottle.
The fun occured after the game, as we went on the field and took our chances at winning prizes by hitting balls of a tee and hitting a prize bag. I got to go twice, once for me and once for Will - we got a dog toy, a water bottle and some free shake coupons. With plenty of prizes, I got to go again, and won a youth mesh jersey with the classic Whitecaps logo.
A good time was had by all.
The next day, I had to run to Novi to judge a figure skating competition. Dad may fight me on this one, but I can't wait to get him in FIGURE skates and see him tear it up, preferably not to Inspector Gadget, James Bond, Charlie Brown, Star Wars, all popular boy themes. Quite a few talented little boys out there!
The shopping bug bit when I stopped for a bathroom break at the outlets. Thank God for timing, as my bathroom break always seem to happen in Howell (wink). The shopaholic in me wanted purses, bags, jeans, dresses, nightshirts, shorts, jewelry and more. The conservative side won out and I got a teeshirt and a bra. Whoopie - and I don't mean that sarcastically, as I needed a new bra. Who knew such joy could come from Bali? I feel my posture improve as well as my body line. Yes, the girls are looking great and sayin' hello! The tee was also necessary as I have done a "What Not to Wear" treatment on my closet and got rid of shirts with stains, those that were too small or too big, or stretched out. Stacey and Clinton would love the shirt, it's a v-neck with a little stretch so it skims, not clings, and a fantastic shade of pink. It replaces 4 pink t-shirts and a beaded sweater in the "out" pile.
Came home to an empty house, as Dave and the boy went to a picnic and up to grandma and grandpa's for a parade on Sunday. At first I enjoyed it, I had smoked salmon pate on crackers and noodles for dinner, sat in the bathtub reading the latest issue of Vogue and went to bed watching reruns of "the King of Queens." I woke up searching for Dave with my toe and listening for the boy who wasn't there via the baby monitor. It was sad being lonely at 3 a.m., especially when that is the feeding I usually dread. How do you miss the thing that annoys you? When you do it anyway for the one you love.
Come home boys.
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