What Santa Brought

Noah received some great gifts this year, as 80% of the tree was dedicated to spoiling this child.  So much so that we have to mail a package of these gifts home!  He also received a gift that will last a lifetime, literally.  My son is officially walking. One moment he was hanging by the coffee table in the living room, the next, he was precariously toddling towards me while I was setting up my computer.  We are having a tough time keeping up in a tiny apartment, I dread to see how home will be with stairs and many more square feet!




            

Nowhere to go

We grown folks have it easy when it comes to bathrooming, you can find a stall, a bush, or pop a squat just about anywhere. Wait, a baby is in a diaper and can literally take care of business when the urge strikes. True, but you need a place to remove said diaper and dispose of it properly.  I typically use cloth diapers when I am home and really don't have to worry about landfills and random changing tables while at home.  We have taken several road trips with the baby in the past year and it is becoming more and more clear the lack of diaper changing stations offered in the random bathrooms that you pop into while traveling.  Initially, I was able to change his pants in the car in the parking lots; but due to his increase in size, inability to stay still, and our obsession with over packing we now rely on public facilities.  Or the lack thereof I have to say.  I have changed his diaper in a field next a gas station in rural Virginia, on my knees in the front seat, and have unloaded the entire backseat in a parking lot to do the deed. We have been in and out of at least two gas stations looking for proper changing facilities. The search for this is maddening as you already can tack on an hour driving time with an infant, so the constant denial of services tops the cake.   This does not only pertain to the road, I have had to change a diaper in a stroller and on a shady couch of the upstairs club portion of a restaurant as they lacked the proper tables in the loo.  Something I have never thought about B.C. (before child).  Now I am hitting up bathrooms and mentally noting if there are changing facilities much like I scout out porta-pots for my next running route. 

Join the Club

I have been in the midst of several mommies lately, varying in degrees of brand new to three kids deep and I have come to realize one unspoken thing about motherhood. Each and every one of us is up to our necks in self- doubt.  Don't get yourself all upset and think I am saying that all mothers are a bunch of low self esteem having, timid folks; as if you have seen one with a screaming two year old in the store, you will know this is not the case. No, I am simply stating that on some level we will question the root and effect of our actions with our children.  Is formula evil? Why won't this rash go away? How can I get my child to eat vegetables? Which school really is the best for my child? This doubt of one's parenting tactics doesn't just start with that first breath, (man!) but continues as long as you are alive I do believe. Now I have been around some mommas who just exude confidence and you are envious of their 3 well-mannered children, perfectly coiffed hair, and what?, a manicure too?! ( Who has time for that?) These are the types of mothers whom I look up to for guidance and essential know-how on getting through any trial the wee ones pull out on you.  Yet, I know, somewhere deep inside, this momma also questions her every move with her children. She may only keep it inside, tell only her spouse or closest friend, or just ignore the tinny voice in her head saying 'what if....?'  And that my friends, makes me feel better.  I know this seems like a misery loves company type of speech, but I think knowing that someone else feels the same way you do, gives you that confidence in parenting that we all need. There is great responsibility in raising a human in to a successful person and most of the formative years are busy and tough. On the other hand, I must also remind myself that the child will not remember the night when he was one that you let him cry for 2 hours, or the missed naps for shopping, or the fact that you have called your pediatrician at least once a week for their entire life.  I am a closet trash television watcher of shows like Real Housewives (yeah, I know, but nursing took up lots of time back in the day) but I have to give one former housewife (Bethenny) props for her recent quote in a parenting magazine. "You don’t have to do everything right--just be there."  Amen sister. Join the club... 

The Wolf Strikes Back

Just when I was cresting a point of parenthood where I was thinking, 'I got this' my offspring decided to throw me for yet another loop.  For the better part of a month or so, he has been waking up at least one time a night. Not screaming in pain or nightmares. No, he really just wants me to come in there and hang out with him while he sleeps.  As long as there is a hand placed firmly on his back, he is content. The second you say good night and head out of the room, he hastily yanks the blanket off and is posted up in his crib the closest he can get to the door.  Whine/crying.  The sound is truly pathetic that draws this sucker momma in each and every time.  I was constantly telling myself that I should go in because he could be wet/teething/feverish/thirsty/etc..... At one point I did see a fleeting flash of white on his gums when he doesn't clam up on me, and chalked his recent night diatribes up to that he was finally teething.  Last night, I had had enough.  I felt that he was working me, as the previous night I had gone in there four times, to pat his back and then just stand there by his crib as he constantly checked to make sure I was still there whilst drowsily sucking his thumb.  Enough of that, I said and when he started up last night, as I proceeded to turn the monitor volume down lower and attempt a fitful night of sleep.  Fast forward an hour and a half.  Still at it.  Damn this child is determined!  About and hour and 40 minutes in, I caved in and went in for the ritual pat down.  He settled down in mere moments and I frustratingly told he good night and took my duped self back to bed.  Start the crying again...another hour passes.  I am becoming sleep deprived angry at this point, and take in a heaping dose of Tylenol in and a cup of water.  Momentary silence, until I walked away and the cry/whine became more of a frantic wail. I could take it for only another 30 minutes and it dawned on me.  His diaper.  Poor child has been dealing with a pretty rowdy batch of rash, but my husband and I have been dosing him with copious amounts of cream to alleviate he problem.  Call it a mother's intuition, but we took that diaper off and the pungent smell of my son's overpowering ammonia diaper took over.  That could not feel good on a bump covered tush.  After the clean diaper was on, he settled right down and is still sleeping at this point.  Sleep continued to evade me as I lie in bed thinking about what had just happened.  Has his rash been bothering he so much? Was he just so worn down that he finally fell asleep?  I will never know, but I can definitely tell you that I am gun shy over not going into his room at night.  

All in a Year's Time

It is funny how one tool I got strictly based on a recommendation during my birthing class has yielded so many results in child-rearing.  A year ago we used it to calm my son down, and now we encourage mobility.  Next up he'll be standing on it for auditions to the circus. I will definitely call this walking!

All I Want for Christmas

We've been playing the elusive game of who cried wolf for about 8 months now. Any time that my son was ridiculous fussy, we attempted to chalk it up to teething and after some nights, I fully expected him to have all 26 choppers.  Never was the case, he was fussy for who knows what reason!  So within the past week he has been waking up at least once a night, clung to me like a leech, and has basically got me calling a chiropractor for some lower back pain.  I thought we were entering into the separation anxiety phase (which I also believe to be true) of life so I just sucked it up and let him act like he was a newborn child again.  Lo and behold, I am laying him down for a diaper change and I see a flash of white on his upper gum.  Was that the pasta from lunch 3 hours ago? Gross!  Nope, upon further inspection we officially have a tooth! Now it is not what I expected, first it is on the very top of his mouth, as I thought they got them on the bottom first, but when has this child followed any rules?  I also figured that teeth just come straight out of the bottom of a top gum (confused yet?) yet they come out of the side or head on if you are looking at it directly.  Well, I never thought to look there!  I am going to miss that gummy smile terribly but I am stoked that I finally know what teething is like and I have to say that making that child wear his 'corn' teething necklace may have paid off.  

Goodbye 600 extra calories

After nearly 13 months as a cow, my body and son aren't doing it anymore. So long the days of extra desserts, decaf coffee, and aversion to spicy foods. I have throughly enjoyed the ride as a nursing mom, having nursed in many a parking lot, dressing room, and eventually in public(covered that is!). I found that my son took to nursing easily, yet was not dependent on me for comfort, that's what the thumb is for. Time to retire the bras with hooks, terrible suctioning devices, and leaky pads till next time.

Submariner

I know that I have a lifetime of inopportune events ahead of me, and have to say that I am pretty lucky getting through 13 months scot-free.  Yet today I was giving my son a bath and was greeted by an unwelcome visitor in the bath.  First reaction is to laugh actually, as moments before he was in my arms so my white shirt was almost toast.  After a pause and a giggle, I had to pull myself together and clean up the mess.  Thank god for the diaper sprayer that is right next to the tub!

Sleep is kinda important

Today was one of those days where I am ashamed to admit that I couldn't wait to put my child to bed.  We had one of those long ridiculous "Why the hell are you crying for 2.5 hours?!", nights that led to a short, unrefreshed napping kind of day, and child that would bawl at the drop of a hat.  My child that adores eating above all else, whined and fussed through his entire dinner that was fed to him at least a hour earlier than usual.  His head hit the bed at 6:45, which may be a new record for this momma.  Do I feel guilty? Nah, I now wish I was smart enough to hit the bed early too. 

Vacation Days

I have to just laugh at myself for a moment.  On my current trip to my hometown, I knew that I was going to be away from the duties of home for over 10 days and I became a bit overzealous in my mental packing.  There are NEVER enough hours in the day for me to complete all of the tedious tasks of housework on top of the care of my dear son and loving husband.  I relished in the idea that I was going away for several days and became sneakily excited to catch up on my blog (um, first post in days!), organize my coupons, and lazily read the 3 books and 5 magazines that I lugged across 3 states. Needless to say I get the same amount of time to read, compute, and organize between the naps and feedings just as I did at home.  You can take the mommy out of the house, but the baby stays on his schedule, laundry continues to pile up, and food demands preparation no matter where you are.  There are no days off! I had a friend mention something about how most folks are excited about the short work week for the Thanksgiving holiday and how there are no short weeks in being a mommy. This rings true, but I would not trade it in the world. 
 In all actuality, I am getting more time to play with my son; which I am absolutely adoring chasing him around with his walker, reading his books over and over, and playing ball till his little hand falls off.  Maybe this is the new definition of 'me time'.  I can read when I am old.....  

One Giant Leap

Or practically a face plant if you ask me.  My precious baby has embarked on the final of the major milestones today; 'walking'.  I'm adding quotation marks for the fact that he isn't officially walking by the standards that most of us upright individuals.  I think of walking as putting one foot in front of the other and  keeping the vertical position as long as you can.  Apparently when babies 'walk' they act like they are moments from falling (which they are) and finally use their legs to try to keep them from toppling face-first into a loving parent's arms. This is really a thrilling event as your child is once their own and once again mobility will make mommy even more tired.  

   

Out of the Closet

So I have been a SAHM for over a year now and rarely do I miss those days of suffering through 5 days work to fly through a weekend and then do it all over again. I did enjoy shopping for a fun wardrobe while I was still bringing in a paycheck, this is evident in my now overflowing closet.  Tonight I was grudgingly completing the chore of switching out my closet for the winter and once again I was faced with a new conundrum.  What the heck do I do with my 'work' clothes?!  My current attire has been derived from the early days of mothering; where wearing something with belt loops and a button is unbelievably uncomfortable, where styling my hair once every two weeks is a big deal, and the fashion of why bother? It's going to get spit up on in a mere moment anyway.  The catchall wardrobe for this life, is athletic clothes.  I am sure that I am a prime candidate for What Not to Wear with my constant wearing of running skirts and tanks in the summer and yoga pants and sweatshirts in the winter at home and sometimes {gasp} in public. And I dread to be inside my husband's head when he sees me strutting around the house in his PT sweatpants for the second day in a row.
 This makes little sense in that I have a closet full of nice appropriate clothes that would be suited for a trip to the commissary or a job interview for that matter.  Alas, those nice clothes are collecting dust in my closet and hell, its just the commissary right?  I decided to be real with myself and make more room in my closet by taking those dress pants, white button up shirts, and fancy sweaters and put them in a tub marked 'work clothes'.  This is in affect so that I don't pull them back out in the next season, dumbly thinking that I will wear these outfits.  I do hate that I don't have anything to get ready for most of my days, which I now have to giggle at myself when I get all dolled up for a doctor's appointment. But who can complain when your job doesn't require closed toed shoes?  Now I am wondering what I am making more room in my closet for.....

Times Change

Babies don't wear watches. So when the rest of the world gets to enjoy a blissed extra hour of sleep; my child wakes up at his usual time, which is now an hour earlier.  Not only am I already sinking into the wintertime depression since it is now dark at 5, I don't get to enjoy the silver lining of 'extra' sleep.  Spring time change will be a real treat.

Malpractice

This week has not been the most stellar in the encouragement of a fragile mother's ego.  As mentioned in prior posts, heading to the pediatrician and seeing the low-hanging x on the growth chart is bad enough, as well as the inordinate amount of needles that go into the tiny arm of your child in the first few months of their lives.  This trip takes the cake.  My usual pediatrician is out on maternity leave, and we are faced with the choice to stay with the current practice or follow her to her new practice when she returns.  The gods of karma must have been reading my mind as I was treating this visit as a means of making this decision.  Within moments of the new doctor coming in the room, I was asked which formula my breastfed child of over a year was drinking and then accused of underfeeding and improperly cleaning the nether regions of my son.  If you have had the joy of watching my child eat, you will realize that there is no satiating this child.  He can put down a plate of sweet potato, chicken, peas, and rice. And then reach longingly for your plate and then you are greeted with grunts of displeasure when you choose not to share with him as you know he may just explode if he eats more.  He failed to gain any weight at this check up which is why the evil doctor wanted to side with caution on his development. But she chose not to listen to our pleas that he was a very active child, was difficult to weigh on the scale due to all this movement, and must have had a Stevie Wonder moment in ignoring the size of both parents standing there in the room. And to add insult to injury we were accosted with the fact that my son was anemic moments later.  He had blood drawn at this 9 month check up to save him from being a complete pin cushion at this visit, and the results yielded that he needed to be put on a multivitamin with iron to bump him up a few points.  Apparently the numbers were not good enough as the evil doctor sent us back down to the lab where the nurse recognized us from the last visit and then seemed taken aback with the enormous amount of blood and tests that needed to be drawn from a one year old.  3 vials and lots of tears later, we walked out of the office with our paperwork on how to fatten up our child and a prescription for iron drops in our dejected hands.  

Cloth Diapering a Squirmy Worm

My experience with cloth diapering has been a breeze for the first 10 months of my son’s life. You place him on the changing table, sing songs, take all the time you need to delicately snap each snap, and all in all this was a wonderful encounter. Then enters the child that is into everything and changing his diaper is an infringement on his freedom. We are now reduced to changing his diaper somewhere on the floor after tackling him down, whilst using both my arms and legs to restrain him, and trying to keep him from twisting his body in a way that would make a gymnast proud.  I was becoming less of a fan of my cloth diapers solely for their time changing factor but I would never change my cloths for anything, no matter what the disposable marketing has thrown my way.  

  Let me remind you that cloth diapers are not like the days of old where we are fussing with pins and rubber pants, per se.  I use a mix of Bum Genius aios and Motherese one size and covers, both of which are awesome at holding the scariest of diapers.  So the changing time is shorter than the past, but not certainly as simple as the new disposables that you just pull on a super wiggly baby.  This being said, I realize that I just need to become more creative with my diversions while we are in the midst of changing a diaper. My songs have become more interactive, there is now a plethora of toys within arm’s reach, and I often just give him the bottle of lotion to mouth and play with so that I can get the diaper on.  I do become frustrated with the time that it is taking to get both the diaper and a cover on him, but I know that this time that I am taking is well worth the cost of buying diapers and the cost of disposing of them, tenfold.  Cloth diapering is much like a great piece of mothering knowledge that was passed to me from a friend, who put the bug in my ear to even consider it.  My love of it has been passed on to two other friends, so I am emphatic that the gift of paying it forward is worth the tribulation of struggling to get each diaper on a toddler.      

Time Flies

A year has gone by since I first joined this club of parenthood.  A day that I will never forget as one of the most amazing, terrifying, and the brink of a life forever changed.  Looking back on moments where I thought they were lasting an eternity; as those long late afternoons  sitting on the exercise ball (again), waiting for my husband to get home. Nights where I felt as though I never slept.  All those trips in the car with the screaming accompaniment.  There are were times that simply flew by; such as when he first smiled at us, cuddling with me after nursing in the early mornings, and the day that I fell hopelessly in love with him. Yet, I cant remember what it is like for him NOT to be mobile.  Those first four months were tough, enormous with self-doubt, blurry from the lack of sleep, and swollen with pride in the small accomplishments.  Once there was a rhythm created, my son and I's days began to just revolve around one another, both of us growing and learning from one another.  I feel a bit wistful thinking of how much he and I have both changed in the past year as well as how much change the future holds.  Becoming a parent is truly a learning experience that I am so very happy have survived the first year of.

October 29, 2010

Happy 1st Birthday to my sweet baby boy!

Creativity May Run in the Family

My mom is crafty.  Not conniving and witchery, no she can turn a gunny sack into a cute table cloth AND curtains in a matter of days.  I have that gene somewhere in my being, usually it is punked out by my impatience.  Yet here comes Halloween, one of my most stressful holidays in that I can never figure what to be, nor have the patience to sort through my curiosity to come up with something creative.  I think I've worn the same old pair of devil horns for the past 8 years.  Now I am responsible for my child's costume on this most sanctified of events for children.  Geez, and I thought picking out a name was difficult! I know I have years of costumes ahead of me, so I need to enjoy this while it is ultimately still my decision.  My son has always had a soft spot for the turtle decor in his room, so this was naturally a no-brainer for me. Yet, you cannot go and pick up a turtle costume at your local all in one store and I am sure that there are some super pricey ones online. I bypassed all this mess and went straight to the homemade route.  After some researching on the internet, I found a cute idea on someone else's blog and went with it.  
Here is part one and I will post the finished 'product' on the big day.  Have to say that being crafty was easy, quite inexpensive, and {whisper} fun....

Ladies Man

Watch out girls.... He certainly is starting early! 
I just love how gentle and sweet he is. Momma's boy.

Sign of the Times

After almost 6 months, my son finally communicated with me by means of his hands rather than the ever present uhh uhh.  A friend of ours gave us a book or sign language long before he was born and I stuck it on the shelf with the other mindless pieces of spine that are designed to assist in parenting.  I eventually pulled it out once he began to eat solids, solely because I thought it was the "right" thing to do.  Plus it seemed that it would be helpful to get a grip on if he wanted more to eat or drink. We hit the sign language with a gusto, feeling like a monotonous ASL teacher, over pronouncing the word more. All the while clapping the tips of our fingers together over and over.  The poor child probably thinks that anything that is placed on his highchair is a 'more'. I can certainly see where he gets his lack of full attention from, as the luster of sign language waxed and waned as the weeks went on as there were no results.  I realize now that my son lacked the hand coordination not the intellect in grasping the concept. He may not have the hand signal perfect, but he is definitely letting us know what he wants. And lord knows this child always wants MORE food!  

Germaphobia

Here is the case; apparently my son has had a case of diarrhea for a couple days now.  Gross right? I am sure you are stopping your reading now as this already seems to be heading down a path that cannot be good. Believe me, coming from the germaphobe that I am, I do not wish to further this imagery, so I will be gentle. 
 I may digress first to give some background on myself; my name is Anne and I am terrified of illness.  My husband comes home with a cold, and I alienate him for at least four days.  If I catch wind that anyone has thrown up in my vicinity, I will promptly hand sanitize every 10-20 minutes and go to bed each and every night knowing that I will wake with the symptoms. One of my biggest fears (yes really) of becoming a parent is dealing with a sick child.  I just know that I will be the one to get puked on, and then all I will be able to focus on will be how many surfaces do I need to sanitize as my poor child lies in a miserable heap.  I shudder to even think of this.  How on earth I survived as a teacher in elementary school is beyond me.  Must have been the 4 plus bottles of sanitizer I had around.

Look what I can do!

Mobility came with its fair share of fears on my part as well as a lion's share of fun!  I do miss those days where I could plop him down on something and he would STAY there; needless to say, diaper changes have taken on a whole new element.  You have to keep him from rolling away, from trying to reach and grab his poopy self, and as soon as you get one leg in the pants, the other damn leg pops out. I find that when I get frustrated with it I must make a growling noise as he looks at me and makes the same frustrated growl back.  How can you stay  upset then?
Lord knows that chasing him all day does really wear me out. BUT.....it sure is fun to be active with this little guy!

Cruisin Around the Coffee table

Stairmaster

Monkeyin' Around with momma

Whats Bakin?

As a part of my new position in life, I am working on my baking skills since I have more time on my hands. I have never had the patience for baking.  Making cookies would go something like this: I would either eat most of the dough beforehand, open the oven about 15 times to get a good whiff causing the cookies to fall, and then try to scrape the cookies off the tray before they are ready and they end up in a sad heap.  My ever so sweet husband would gobble them up no matter how awful they were. I swore off baking and used the store packaged kind for a long time.  Pregnancy hit and I had a new found love for baked goods. So much so I thought I was pregnant with a girl due to the influx of my sweet tooth.  
Today I tried this recipe out since it was a fall-like day and I was having a craving for chocolate.
http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/george-duran/pumpkin-chocolate-chip-cookies-recipe/index.html?soc=share
Next time, I'd add a bit more seasoning, like pumpkin pie spice to bring out the pumpkin flavor. 
YUM!

If You Ain't First,You're Last!

I thought I was YEARS away from competing with other parents.  This day and age is all about the overindulgence of our children with extravagant birthday parties, cars when they turn 10, and a never ending hall pass to disobey any other adult that is not their parent.  I am a looong way from that game. Or so I thought.  My son is on the brink of turning one.  I am as stay at home mom who needs a social outlet for us both.  Great! How about some swim lessons on the local base for a month in the summer?  NOT! Apparently they filled up the August class back in January when the sign ups began and I was number 31 on the wait list. I should have signed him up the day he was born.  Alright, how about storytime at the local library. That used to be free and fun if I remember.  Oh, I'm sorry, the fall session is full and this class fills up fast.  I could show up early and stalk the class and see if someone no-shows as a means of getting him in.  Really?!  So I actually asked the woman in charge when the sign ups for the winter session began and how I could best my chances of getting him in.  I felt low, like I have begun this downward slide into parenthood where my 3 year old has an entire circus at his birthday party. It struck me, is this what it takes to get your child the best? Hell, I'm not even trying to get him into the A list school, its dinky swim lessons and free library story time!  Do I have years of scratching out other mom's eyes and brown-nosing with those in the know ahead of me?  Maybe I am naive as any new mom and just thought that there are a plethora of opportunities for my child and that I would have an easy pick down any such avenue. I am just looking for cheap ways to get out of the house at this point so I cannot imagine what the future holds for soccer games and piano lessons.  I know that we are on the move as a family by the time he is school aged, I better get a fortune teller to help me get him into the best schools.       

Say that again?

In my other life I was a teacher. Days of yore spent teaching children how to read, write, and develop a love of math. (ha!)  Now fast forward to my current life where I have just one student and the pressure is to teach greater than when I was at a private school!  I had always thought that language acquisition was a skill that just naturally came to us as we are surrounded by a world that is rich in vocabulary.  When my students came to me, they knew how to speak,yet not always properly (lie-berry for library still kills me) but grasping the basic skills of conversation.  
We are working on raising a bilingual child, whereas I am thinking it may border a third installment of language called gibberish.  For a long while now he has been stuck on monosyllabic sounds and a constant sound of mmmm; that the pitch of which is determined by his ever fluctuating moods.  So, here I am with an 11 month old trying desperately to get him to say 'mama' and he looks me square in the face and beams at me as he says 'dada'! Argh another knife in the gut and more points for the daddy side.  I know that he is learning words from us, hopefully not the kind that I tend to speak whilst driving, as he is recognizing the words that I say.  Is it too early to start spelling?  I cannot ask if my husband wants a glass of milk or I will get the mmmmm sound of the demanding sort.  And those little dissolveable puffs in the plastic containers? He is NUTS for them and even if he just ate a full lunch will freak out if you ask him if he wants some puffs.  Now that I know that he understands the words I am saying, how the hell do I get on the same page?  A couple weeks ago I was taking him up for his bath and I know he repeated the word 'baa' back to me, wherein I totally got excited and finally felt that I had gotten through and that we could finally discuss in depth these late night crying fits.  Did he say it again? As that is the test of understanding a concept.  Sure, he said baa again but this time it was when he wanted to go outside. Wrong context. Of course the mother AND the teacher in me are sliding into our overcoat of guilt in thinking that maybe we aren't practicing enough, maybe there is a problem (definitely not!), do I need to create more diverse lesson plans? Sometimes I get on the internet to see what the land of google thinks about certain topics of parenting, but I have learned not to take these pages as doctrine.  I am happy to say that the books we read, my constant gabbing to my son, and games we play are setting him up to be quite the motormouth, as soon as I can understand what he is saying. 
All and all his language acquisition is really blooming.  Even as the past week has gone on, more sounds or shall I say words are starting to form, as well as a fun pterodactyl sound that he likes to emit when I tell him no. 

S.A.H.M.

6 years ago, if you had asked me if I was going to be a stay at home mom, I probably would have laughed in your face and said why the hell would I do that?!   I was under the misinformed impression that stay at home moms were lazy, soap addicted, playground hogging gangs of women who couldn't cut it in the workforce so they 'stay' home with the kids instead. I know that makes me sound like a jerk, but I was a good bit younger and had always held a job since I was 16 and didn't see why grown women shouldn't do the same thing. And I couldn't imagine not having my paycheck (albeit tiny) in the bank to help pay the bills, as well as {GULP} be dependent on my husband for money.  We learned to break that train of thought when I stopped working full time to complete my degree, but I was always heading back to teaching as soon as I graduated.

  Then the topic of children came onto my horizon and I began to have friends and family who stayed home with their children.  People whom I look up to. People whom I asked why do you stay home and how is it?  So many reasons floated around in my head; why would you have someone else raise your children? These baby years go so quickly so it is worth the financial strain to enjoy them. The majority of the mother's paycheck would go to daycare anyway.  And so on. So much to chew on, as well as that nagging feeling that I was going to be seen as a lazy bum who is just living off her hubby to not have to work.  Hopefully that is just my crazy way of thinking and not the stereotype I am trying so hard to avoid.  Then I had my son almost a year ago.  I knew before his birth that I was going to stay home, much to my chagrin and the two awesome schools that wanted to hire me, yet that is another blog post.  Those first few months home with him were amazing, sleep deprived, and exhausting.  When I got to that 8-10 week period in his life when most mommies have to go back to work; It then hit me: I just couldn't imagine leaving this little guy with anyone else (well except those days when he was inconsolable, I'd given him to a hobo at that point).  As he has grown it amazes me how much he changes day to day.  Honestly at the 10 1/2 month point, each week I see how his little personality is forming and how much he is absorbing through me.  Would he get that in a daycare?  I am sure he would, as I am not here to knock daycare, but it wouldn't be me seeing him clap for the first time. It wouldn't be me hear him try to repeat words after me. It wouldn't be me who gets to enjoy his cuddle time in the morning.  I wouldn't be able to take my time to enjoy each day with him, not feel rushed to making meaningful experiences just because it is the weekend.  I am so lucky to have a husband who is supportive of our decision for me to stay home as each moment is truly a gift to spend with my son.

You knew there was going to be another side to this story right?! I am not that sappy...even though the sentiment is true.  Staying at home is WORK.  Really! Most jobs you can kinda leave at the office, this one wakes you up at 2 am with shitty diapers and puke.  This job doesn't care that you haven't had a shower all day or a 15 minute break to grab something to eat. This job demands all of your attention as well as loads you up with extra laundry, more meals to cook, a never ending clean up of playtime debris, and a necessity that your demeanor remains positive 24/7.  And more patience than I was ever required working with even the most difficult special ed child. 

I love my job and am not ashamed to tell anyone that I stay home with my child.  I even now don't even feel the need to tack on a cute comment about the cost of daycare either.  

Baby proofing

The word alone, baby proof is a word loaded with hidden meanings and insights.   Is anything REALLY ever baby proofed?  Can you really say that your life was ready for the complete and utter disarray that has been placed upon it by your child? What about your marriage? Is the fact that you have very little patience left over in the day to donate it to your spouse a means to attest how much stress is placed on a new family? Can you honestly prepare for each obstacle that you will face as a parent?     
Now let me get away from this deep insight and speak in literal terms of baby proofing.  As I mentioned in a blog about a month ago, life is over as I know it once the wee one becomes mobile.  Lord yes! I feel that I now spend 80% of my day correcting the direction of my son. My new conversations go like this: "No, honey toilets are nasty, stoves are hot, oh crap, what did you just put in your mouth? Why is there poop on the floor?" And that was just yesterday... What is the real gem is that I know this is just the beginning.  I laugh when I first made an attempt to baby proof my house.  Sure sticking some plastic outlet covers and cabinet door stoppers seem like the dutiful things to do when you anticipate mobility.  But who knew that children like (and can!) to crawl under coffee tables and straight to your mess of speaker wires? Or find that tiny speck of paper you left out?  You know that night light that you lovingly placed in the baby's room to keep the boogie monster out? Yeah, that becomes like a literal moth to the flame, especially when you are on an important phone call and feel like a weirdo interrupting your caller to say "No touch!"  I then felt obligated to explain myself. 
And four legged critters beware. My poor dog is the best dog I have ever seen as she should now have had both eyes poked out, a tail that removes itself like a lizard's, and should be bald in some places where she becomes a stable surface to pull up on. He is obsessed with her!  If you come into this house now you may think you have entered this side of a ranch.  I've got enough gates to corral the little one in as well as a herd of sheep if need be.  Furniture is now strategically placed so that one cannot squeeze through.  I feel like the baby is related to an animal in that as long as his head will fit he will take it as an incentive to get through the tiniest space. Until he gets stuck under the table again, and is freaking out for me to come and rescue him.   And decorations? If the knickknack is not 3 feet off the ground, its outta here, or at least stashed in my spare room till I can figure out where to store it for the next 3 or so years.  Yikes! I detest to think about Christmas... 
I am learning that baby proofing your home and life is a day by day conquest that you just have to roll with the flow and maintain that eagle eye for those tiny things on the floor. Thank god I just got a new awesome vacuum with which I love to use on a near daily basis.   

Off the Charts

When you take your child to the pediatrician it is a world full of enormous information and confidence building.  In the early months, as a nursing mom, I was anxious to get him on that scale to ensure that I was not starving him to death.  Initially my little piggy did not disappoint as he was 3 ounces over his birth weight 3 days after birth and a whole pound and some ounces a month after.  Little did I know that the pediatrician's office was also a secret site of information gathering and guilt building for new mommies. 
It goes like this:  The nurse asks you a handful of questions when you get there, which are the same each time (don't they save this info?!) and then pecks in your child's weight, length, and head circumference in the computer.  The doctor then comes in, greets you with a smile, comments on how great X is looking, and then goes over to that screen of shame.  She pulls up the growth charts that look like some evil reminiscent of my research in education class at ODU, whips the screen around to the nervous parents, and points to a little x that marks where you child is.  Consider the lines like a rainbow of percentiles, the top of the rainbow being the 90th percentile, the bottom the 5th.  If I can remember what that means from that evil class, that if you child is in the 80th percentile, that they are growing in the range above 80% of the rest of the children. That being said, my child would basically be sitting in a pot of gold. (which doesn't sound too bad to this stay at home mom..)  His little x just hangs out on the bottom of the screen, where the doctor is always quick to remind me that his parents are not large people by any means so we shouldn't expect him to be on the top there.  Enter my new friend guilt.  After being the sole provider of my child's nutrition for over 6 months, I felt like I was creating milk that must be like air and am leading my child to a life of short jokes and beanpole jabs.  This coupled with so many people looking at me in a shocked manner when I tell them his age and  they say "wow, he's so small"  For a bit there, it was hard to make milk when you have a giant monkey on your back. 
    I took my son for his 9+ month checkup with my head held high and confident that his growth would make that little x climb up that rainbow. We have entered the world of solid foods which my child has taken up a love affair with.  His clothes are rapidly shrinking, as I am realizing that there are things that he has yet to wear! I digress.  My husband and I both just knew our son was going to be at least 20 pounds, where I had visions that we were going to have to go buy all new clothes and that 'big boy' car seat in the very near future.  Alright, so he was more like 17lbs 12oz, but I still held on to hope as the nurse typed the info into the computer.  In strolls the doctor, and as the screen is turned in our direction, shock and guilt quickly push those confident feelings over the ledge as his little x was STILL there on the bottom 5.  
I know that this charting really doesn't matter as he is happy, healthy, and sleeps through the night with a full belly each night.  Maybe this is the start of a set of neurotic parents and a lifetime of competition with the rest of the world. 

I want to ride my bicycle!

We broke down after being influenced by a friend with a baby around our son's age and got him a bike seat.  I painstakingly researched the ins and outs of baby bike safety, got him a sturdy brain bucket as my hubby calls it and off we go!

I have to say that my bike is my chariot of summer that I have been missing terribly, but this bicycle built for two will be seen all over the trails now buddy!

The World is Over as I Know It

My son made great leaps and literal bounds in life today!Looks like I need to finish the babyproofing pronto. 

More things I've Learned....

1.  If baby is happy playing with something or somewhere, LEAVE THEM THERE.
2.  Also if baby is sleeping, see above.
3. Velcro tabs on cloth diapers become interesting for a 9 month old.  
4.  As does their privates.  
5.  Baby will go through a strange period of wakefulness about every 4-6 weeks.      Why? No clue, just roll with the lack of sleep and keep the routine sacred.
6. Yet, routines CAN be broken.
7. Babies eventually get frustrated with their lack of mobility.  
8. A baby can roll across a room in less than 10 seconds.  
9.  Singing louder in the car does not make baby less happy to be in car seat.
10.  Yes, they can STILL be hungry.  

It ain't easy being green

The grass is always greener. Maybe it is our privileged American upbringing that makes us feel that we deserve more and better as well as deal with those pangs of envy when we don't.  I admit that I have been bitten by the green-eyed monster in parenting lately and even admitting so is slightly embarrassing as everything is wonderful with my child.  But this is my blog and I feel that I can vent to it as necessary since I am sure that someone else has also felt these feelings.  
I'll start small.  I am currently surrounded by either brand new babies or folks on the cusp of delivery. The feeling from this is great, as now people can finally understand what we have been going through the past 9 months! All of those fumbles and tribulations can translate into hopefully helpful tidbits for others braving those first few months.  Yet, I am a bit envious of their status.  Let me correct myself, I am NOT envious of the sleepless nights and zombie days, the lack of control over my own body, and the panic stricken doubts of "Am I doing the right thing?" No way. It has more to do with the emotions that encompass your body as you learn about your baby. Nearly everyone that we saw those first weeks said these newborn days pass quickly and to enjoy them, and at that point I wanted to hand my son over to them gladly so they could relive them while I got more than 2 hours of consecutive sleep.  Alas, they were right.  I do miss those floppy days where he was perfectly content to lay on our chests and sleep after eating.  Now I am lucky to get him to sit still so we can squeeze a burp out.  Those feelings of excitement as your baby is finally here and you try to learn every inch of them.  Now there is no learning body parts, we have to practically restrain him whilst giving him a bath, leaving me hopeful that I at least got the important parts wet enough to call them clean. You may read this and say that I am being petty, but I am sure that no matter what age your children are, being in the presence of a new family brings up the whimsical side of you. Even in this nonemotioned momma here.  
Now for the bigger patch of green on the other side of my fence.  The world is full of stereotypical roles that each of us may or may not fall in. I am now entering the role of 'mommy' in which I had envisioned myself as being able to stay on top of each item on my housewife to-do list and being the absolute apple of my son's eye.  Enter my husband and his role; 'daddy'.  My husband is a one of kind father.  When you see someone with their child and think how that person was just made to be a parent, you will think of him. He will change a scary nasty exploded diaper (cloth at that!), he will get up with me when the baby wakes at night so I am not the only one up, will take the baby for an hour so I can get some things done, and most of all he LOVES spending time  with his son. What could I possibly have to complain about here?! Nothing, except my asshole jealous side that crops up when I see my son laugh for his daddy.  Sure mommy can make him laugh, but not so hard he snorts.  I play with him in my own way and sing songs, but in comes daddy and steals the limelight with his dramatic silliness and eagerness to roll around on a dog hair encrusted floor that mommy has missed on her housewife duties.  Sometimes I feel that I have now gained not one, but two children. What is the problem here???  The answer came to me when I was attempting to calm the child down for a nap after a rowdy romp with daddy, without much luck.  The book was about a child getting ready for bed and all the things that were going on around the house while he was sleeping.  And I loosely quote, mommy is in bed after tucking us all in and will arise with the dawn with a great big yawn.  Hmm what about daddy?  The child goes on how he giggles when he hears daddy snore and cannot wait to wake so they can laugh and play some more.  AH-HA! There it was staring me in the face plain as day. Somehow mommy is synonymous to doing all of the child-rearing work and daddy is the super fun guy that swoops in and gets the child all riled up gives the baby back to mommy so that she can try to calm them down to sleep. I know that there are not any handbooks that are emailed to you when you give birth, but somewhere along the way I had thought that I would be the fun one since I was going to be with him all the time.  Until all the business of raising a baby came to light. There are schedules to maintain so that meltdowns are avoided, food prepared in perfect non-choking portions, laundry that is done as certain parts of the day so that a cherished blanket is ready for bedtime, and meticulous bathing and lotioningplaytimes with the baby.  Coming full circle to my point about missing the newborn days, I realized that these baby days are getting away from me and soon my son will want me to drop him off at a friend's house rather than roll around on the floor with me.  I am taking some time away from the hectic home life to just enjoy my son, and I have to say that each moment helps bring me back to my regular shade of light tan.  

The Good Letdown: It's Not a Club!

I happen to follow this breastfeeding blog just for some inside tips and commonalities that we milk mommas share.  Mind you, the majority of the time it deals with things that I am not interested in such as tandem feeding (ie nursing a newborn and an older child at the same time), and the benefits of nursing till the child goes to school.  Not my literal cup of tea, but to each their own.  Yet this past blog has really stuck with me.  Not so much that all of my mommy friends are breastfeeders, but some of the points she makes certainly make sense.  It is easier to relate to someone as a mother when they breastfeed their child as well.  You do not feel awkward pulling out the hooter-hider and feeding your child while having a conversation with this person. Other nursing moms are a wealth of information and support when things can get tricky even months past the early tough days!
 I really like her position on the unspoken guilt that some moms feel when confronted by another mom who did not have good luck with nursing and feels threatened by how well it is going for me. SO TRUE.  Parenthood is full of MANY unknowns and each and every one of us will rightfully question how well they are doing by using their peers as a barometer.  It is only natural for someone who is struggling with breastfeeding or conception, to postpartum weight loss, or organization of life to throw a shady eye your way.  We just need to have those supportive friends to fall back on when you might feel a tad guilty for what you are doing. Because you should never feel guilty when you are doing what is best for you and your child. 
Thanks Megz for the boost of confidence! 
The Good Letdown: It's Not a Club!: "Most of my friends are breast-feeders, it's true, and with the recent relocation to south-central Indiana, I'm seeking out women who breastf..."

"With great power comes great responsibility"

I find that my life is now lived in between napping schedules.  I know, I know, I swore I would NOT be the person who had the rigid nap schedules and that was chained to their house during certain times, but hey what did I know? This has been uncharted territory thus far and what I want and what really happens are two different ballgames.  There are two tiny windows of opportunity in the day. One lies between the morning nap and lunchtime, and the other is from 3 till about 5:30.  Both are small segments in the whole of a day, especially if you are trying to cram in all your days' errands in those tiny time frames.  And as mentioned before, the prep to leave the house takes a chunk of the pie out.  Yet, as I write this I feel that I have become that overzealous parent that I was afraid of!  What really will happen if we miss a nap? Will the world tilt on its axis differently?  Will the locusts take flight once again? No.  The baby will be a crying mess come 5pm but when that is the case, it really doesn't seem like it is the end of the world. 
 Yet there is that dang thing called responsibility.  I am in essence in charge of the way that the day pans out for my son which is wicked amounts of power.  So is it fair to have him become a sobby mess by the end of the day because I needed to drop the books off at the library and go to the store during a time that was convenient for me?  When faced with that dilemma, I feel super guilty about dragging him out of his bed and off of the sacred routine. I love my stroller aerobics class, but it falls at 10 am, right in the middle of nap time.  I used to drag him there 2-3 times a week where he would miss his nap,and literally be thrown off the rest of the day.  Did it really matter to him? Not so much, he was tired and didn't know why.  But there I was, surrounded by this swarming guilt that I caused him to be cranky because I wanted to work out during that certain time. He would seem to look at me come 4:30 with his tired red eyes like why am I so stinkin tired momma? And there she goes, the guilt blanket resides on my shoulders.  As I have watched many a makeover show about women who lose themselves while being a mom, I stoutly told myself that I would not do that.  And to credit myself I do feel that I have done a good job so far as I have fallen back into my other love, running.  Yet, there are times when I am running during the hottest part of the day as it is more conducive to nap time.  We all have to make a compromise when it comes to parenting, I am choosing not to lose myself and to embrace my new role simultaneously. 

I guess lack of bumpers are a good thing..

Summatime

Summer has always been my favorite season. The heat, the sun, the beach, running outside, grilling, the beach.....And along comes baby.  
First, if you know me, you know that if its not raining and above 75 degrees you will find me in my beach chair hunkered down with a good book or trying to catch some flat waves here in the Atlantic. It is almost July 1 and I have been to the beach 5 times thus far. 2 blissful times sans baby and 3 times that did not include a beach chair but a red crab pool and a wayward umbrella.  To those of you that are landlocked or envious of the parenting population, I apologize for my shallowness of this post.
 In order to properly enjoy the beach one must spend at least an hour there in my mind.  It has become such a production to  make it there that I hardly want to bother with it in the first place.  To go to the store it takes me at least 10 minutes of prep to ensure that I have everything that the baby and I need as well as getting everything in the car adds an additional 5 or so mins.  Going to the beach requires much more planning.  You need; the pool, the blanket, the pail and toys, the umbrella (nevermore!), sunscreen, chair (that does not get sat in), towels, cooler with snacks, water for both of us, wagon to haul all this mess, baby carrier to tote baby while hauling mess, etc.  After I puzzle piece each item into the car and load up the little one. We make the trek across the bridge to unload the goods and drag it all to the beach.  We are now about 30 minutes into the whole ordeal and now its time to eat.  Note to self, nursing child under cover in sun is hot and slippery.  Alright, feeding complete! I plop him in the pool to play where he is content for a mere 15 minutes then he is bored.  Cant put him on the sand as he tries to inhale it by the fistful.  My lap is too hot and sweaty from feeding him. And its getting close to nap time.  Sigh...I load all the things back up in the wagon, strap on the baby, and trudge back to my car enviously sneaking peeks at all the single gals sunning it up all day.   After piecing everything back in the car and driving home, almost 2 hours have passed where probably 45 minutes of that were on the actual beach.  Not worth it in my mind.  
Which is why we spend time hanging on our back porch or swinging at the park!

Hose and bumbo seat June 11

Best 15 bucks I ever spent! June 11

Loves the swing now.  June 11

  

Cloth Diapers

I must caveat this by saying how much I love my CD.  I complied this info for some friends of mine in an email and thought that much typing and knowledge cannot go to waste! Enjoy!

Cloth Diaper Info

1.       Diapers:  I use Bum Genius 3.0 all in one diapers:  This just means that the diaper is most like your average disposable.  It has little Velcro tabs to close it and a pocket area in the back where you can add additional microfiber inserts for more absorbency.  They came in small, medium, and large sizes where I ordered 12-14 of each size so that I can do diaper laundry every other day. Past the newborn days, we only go through 6-7 diapers a day so that works out for me! The downside to the all in one diaper is that they are pretty thick and take at least 12+ hours to dry. You can dry them in the dryer for time’s sake, but I don’t since the Velcro can fray and I want them to last for another kiddo or two.   I suppose the other downside is that they don’t make the 3.0 anymoreL  but there are tons of other all in ones out there. Kauai and Fuzzibunz are two other great brands to try.

 So I also have a couple of the Bum Genius pocket diapers in one size fits all.  These have a series of what look like intricate snaps for sizing purposes but they are really easy to figure out and this also means that you don’t have to fool with buying small, medium, and larges of a particular diaper.  These guys last the whole time.  They are also like a shell of a diaper with a slit pocket in the back where you can stuff it with 1, 2, or three inserts depending on how much peeing is going on.  What is great is that you have just a thin shell which takes no time to dry, couple hours in the sun and you are golden! Bum Genius has a newer diaper like mine called the Flip that my friend raves about in that you can use the same pocket diaper shell for at least a couple pee diaper changes, you only have to change the inserts! Sweet!

I also have 5 kushies diapers from Babies R Us, which are a little narrow in the crotch on Noah, so I only use them for pee. 

There are also prefold diapers which are the most similar to the diaper that our folks used.  But they are way easier!  I don’t have any of these, another friend of mine uses these and loves them.  I do know they dry the fastest which means the least amount of time doing laundry.

2.        Inserts:  When you get cloth diapers they are going to come with microfiber or terry cloth inserts.  These are little rectangles of cloth you stick in the slit pocket of the cloth diaper.  I usually add one to my all in one diapers and one or two in the pocket diaper depending on if we are close to home or will be out and about for a while.  You wash these with the diapers and I toss mine in the dryer as they can take the daily wear and tear.  I ordered several extra inserts in addition to the ones that came with my diapers.  I highly recommend the g diaper inserts (at babies r us) as they are the most absorbent!  I also have some inserts made with hemp that are supposed to be great when Noah is a little older and drinking liquids. 

3.       Diaper pail and wet bag:  I got the cheapest diaper pail from babies’ r us and got a reusable diaper pail liner off the internet.  I recommend getting two of the pail liners as I am not doing laundry as often and it gets stinky quickly!  Wet bags are little reusable bags that zip or cinch closed that are water and poopy proof, so that when you are not at home you can stick in your dirty diapers, wet clothes, spit up cloths, basically anything that you don’t want stinking up or getting all over your diaper bag.  They are awesome for kids in general, not just CD.

4.       Diaper sprayer:  This is what sold me! I did not want any poop in my washer! Bum genius makes a diaper sprayer that attaches to the water connection of your toilet. (its online or babies r us)  It’s got a nice little silver wand that emits a very high pressure spray (they say you can use it as a bidet, little cold for me!) that will get everything off the diapers.  I have my diaper pail in my bathroom along with the sprayer, so when he gives me a dirty diaper, I strap on my rubber gloves, spray the mess into the toilet, flush the mess and toss the diaper in the pail.  Done.  Really the time difference between this and changing a disposable diaper is like 2 minutes.

5.       Wipes and such:  I do use regular wipes even though there are washable ones out there.   Since you usually stick the wipe in the dirty disposable and toss both, I got a trash can with a pop up lid to stick those in.  I really don’t notice any odor unless the can hasn’t been emptied in a while and I am pretty sure it’s childproof, but we’ll see!

6.       Diaper rash: On this note NEVER use a butt paste or destin  Use a disposable with rashes.  Actually, cloth diapered children have less rashes than others; I haven’t seen a rash since he was in the disposables.  If he is looking a little red or its sticky out I just powder him up as that doesn’t hurt the diaper at all. 

7.       Laundry:  It’s like second nature with a kid anyway so what is another load really?!  On a side note, I know that it may not seem as earth or pocket friendly to do so much laundry but the amount of water used is tiny compared to how long a diaper lasts in the landfill or how much you shell out on disposables!  Off my soapbox…. I do diapers about every other day.  When you first get the diapers they need to be washed at least 5 times in HOT water to activate the absorbency properties of them.  To wash them regularly I have been told to only use powder detergent and there are tons of cloth diaper detergents out there.  I use tide free and gentle powder.  I was told NEVER to use baby detergent as they have additives that coat the diapers and make them non absorbent.  I use about a ¼ of the required one load of detergent and wash the diapers in one cycle of cold.  Sometimes I soak them in cold if there is a good dirty one in there.  Second cycle, same ¼ amount of detergent and wash in hot.  Third, I set the dial to rinse one additional time after then hot wash.  I toss the inserts in the dryer and put the diapers on the rack and put them in the sun outside to dry.  The sun is awesome as it will fade the poopy stains right out. 

8.       Where do you get them? I ordered mine from Cotton Babies http://www.cottonbabies.com/ because they had the 3.0s on sale.  I recommend diaperjunction http://www.diaperjunction.com/ because it is local to Virginia Beach and they have great prices and free shipping over 50 bucks. 

Note to Self Pt 2

Purely unmedical diagnosis, but I do think that vaccines affect the quality of my son's nursing.  After both 4 and 6 month shots (rotavirus may be culprit) he eats horribly! Not interested, doesn't eat much, is a bit constipated, overall not a joy to feed. 

States of Matter

In the promising first few days of my son's birth, I had fleeting thoughts about wow, I am going to raise a boy; and man, can boys eat!  Truth be told, he has always been a fantastic nurser, even though I have berated myself for his turtle-like progression on the scary doctor growth charts. All signs point to the fact that this child likes to eat.   I had little qualms when it came to moving into the next stage: solids.  Mind you, I was a wreck when it came to coming to this huge decision.  One school of thought damns you if you give them solids too early that they are destined to a life of eating lunch in solitary confinement due to raging allergies.  On the other hand, I also read that early introduction could benefit a child and ensure that peanut butter, milk, and scrambled eggs are on the menu.  So as a the age range of solid introduction is 4-6 months, I started at 5 months to be sure. 
First, lets clarify the term 'solids'.  We are not moving from a dairy diet to one of straight up turkey sandwiches. No, you take perfectly good food and water it down to a thin liquid so that the baby thinks they are still eating milk but it has a funny flavor.  You could almost stick it in a bottle and call it a day.
Most 'books' tell you to start with rice cereal so I broke down and bought some nasty rice cereal dust that you mix with water or breast milk until it is the same consistency of slightly thickened milk.  He ate it once he realized that there was milk in it and let me tell you that this stuff stains clothes with a quickness.  I am so glad I invested in extra bibs for this one.  Yet, I found that the volume of spit up and filled pants were not worth the sound advice of my mother.  I halted all rice powder and moved on to the healthy stuff.
 In any case, we have been moving through the rainbow of fruits and veggies, me lovingly pureeing them to a liquid texture so that he can slurp them off a spoon.  Each time I introduce a food, I hear my friends in the background telling me how much their breastfed child hates 'insert veggie here' and a fear rises in me that I am going to soon be covered in a slobbery mess of sweet potatoes.  Then I remember that I gave birth to a boy, a boy who has always loved food and has yet to disappoint me on that measure.  The child is infatuated with bananas so much that I had to do an intervention last week and now only give them to him once or twice a week. I keep telling my husband that between the both of them we will be eaten out of house and home!
So far so good: sweet potatoes, butternut squash, green beans, peas, carrots, apples, bananas, papaya, pears and mangoes.



Green Beans are messy!



The apple doesn't fall far

If you know me, then you know that I have a slight immaturity when it comes to flatulence.  I am the one who loves to get inappropriate cards, will stifle giggles in a public restroom, and is known to occasionally 'light one up.' 
Well apparently my son does find farting quite a hoot.
 As my husband was playing with the wee one on the bed and felt the urge.  He let one fly and to his surprise, the baby looked at him and laughed.  Not just a mere giggle, but a belly laugh!  A bit later,  while continuing to play with our son, the urge once again rises in my husband (surprise, surprise..) and he thought he might see if the first giggle was a fluke.  Not so much, more belly laughs ensued and I now know that this child is ours!  We may be eating quantities of beans and taking up stock in air freshener till this phase passes; which as this is my child, may never happen....