Swaddle Waddle

Your mommy and daddy had a cat named Lola, but, sadly, she passed away while mommy was pregnant with you.  When Lola was a little kitten, Mommy took her to get spayed and when Mommy brought her home from the vet, little Lola was still under the influence of the anesthesia from surgery. Mommy felt so bad for her and she took her into the bedroom and made a cozy little bed in a basket and laid her down to recover. Shortly afterwards, Lola stumbled out of the basket and wobbled her way down the hall. Well, when Mommy saw that, she picked Lola up and put her back into the basket in the bedroom. This happened about 3 times until Mommy finally realized that little Lola had to go to the bathroom. The poor thing was trying very hard to make it to the other room where her litter box was located, and she’d get halfway there and Mommy would pick her up and make her start her wobbly journey all over again.

What made me think of that story? Well, this morning at about 2:30am, we heard you in your crib stuggling to get out of your swaddle. You’re a little baby Houdini and no matter how tight we wrap you, you inevitably get loose. So, you would struggle and then fall asleep. A little later, we’d here you struggling in there again, and you’d end up falling asleep. Finally, at about 5:00am you’d gotten out, but then you started crying. So, Daddy went in to see what was going on and he then swaddled you back up again. As I was listening to this over the monitor, I couldn’t help but think if you were thinking in your head “God bless it! Do you even know how long it took me to get out of that thing?!? Now I have to start all over again.”

And that made me think of Lola. We miss you, Lola.

An Eskimo and Igloo

The Olivets, with the exception of Ming, ventured out on a walk last evening. It’s been cold here and we finally had an excuse to bundle you in your new snowsuit and head out to the world. Normally, when you walk with Mommy in the mornings, you do so facing my chest so that you sleep. Last night, you got to walk facing out. Out to see the world and the trees and the clouds in the sky. Your eyes were so large, just taking in the world around you. And you gave Laura, our neighbor, a huge smile that completely made her day.

Your daddy and I were completely giddy. Two days ago you slept for a full 1-1/4 hours for your morning nap. And yesterday, you slept for a full one hour nap in the morning and then you slept for another 1-1/4 in the afternoon. Daddy and I were walking on air. It’s not that we just felt happy, we felt light.

That’s proof that it’s the little things that make life big.

An Interlude

The day after Thanksgiving 2006, your daddy, a couple of doctors, a handful of nurses and I had a romantic interlude that resulted in you.

At 9:30am, the expert embriologist called and said we should plan to get to the hospital within the hour. Your daddy and I were sleeping. We used to do that. A lot.

In what will likely be a common theme throughout your childhood, we were unprepared. We had expected a Day Five transfer of embryos, not Day Three. We were certain that we wouldn’t hear from the doc for two more days. Out of the 28 eggs they “harvested” from me, we really thought they would have plenty to choose from; plenty to continue to grow to Day Five… zygotes instead of embryos. Heck, Mommy hadn’t even showered yet… likely another common theme in your life.

We rushed to the doctor. Mommy was given acupuncture and Valium and your Daddy was given some outdated People magazines. There were two embryos transfered that day and Daddy was able to see you through a microscope. Afterwards, Mommy was ordered to bedrest for 3 days, forced to eat Chinese food with your Auntie Jan and drink gallons of Gatorade.

We had to wait two excrutiating weeks to find out. On December 5, 2006 at 3:30 in the afternoon, Nurse Theresa called and said we were pregnant. I’ve never been so overjoyed and scared shitless at the same time in all my life.

Thinking back, the journey here is such a distant memory. The more I thought about this today, those memories started drifting back: the thousands of blood samples, hundreds of ultrasounds and weeks of waiting to hear news – good and bad. The shots that your daddy administered twice a day with such care — and I got a star for each one (and two if I bled or bruised). With all the stars I had accumulated, I got a pair of shoes. And you.

Could life be any sweeter?

Pilgrims, Indians and Mashed Potatoes

Yesterday marked your first Thanksgiving. We took a pilgrimage to grandma and grandpa’s house, where you met some new friends that talked with you about the history of Thanksgiving. First were the pilgrims:

They taught you that without the Indians, they would not have survived the tough winter ahead. The Indians helped them plant and harvest their crops because they were strangers in a new land.

Then you met an Indian chief:

And he told you a story of the wonderful feast shared with the White Man. How the Indians brought wild turkeys, pumpkins and chestnuts to share. And how the White Man brought syphilis and nearly wiped out an entire culture.

And then we stuffed ourselves with turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, cranberry relish and pumpkin pie! Yummy!

Goodbye, Old Friend

This is your Boppy Pillow. And today is the first day of the rest of your life. Today, you’ve started the weaning process from The Boppy Pillow.

The Boppy has been very good to you. When you found it nearly impossible to keep your hands from smacking you squarely in the eye, The Boppy helped you. When your legs would jump up and down to no end, The Boppy helped you. When you would have rathered we tie your hands and legs down with duct tape than to be swaddled during the day, The Boppy helped you. But, alas, your growing my son, and you’ve outgrown The Boppy.

Don’t worry, you’ll still hang out in it to play with your toys. But today, today you’re going to sleep in your Big Boy Crib all by yourself.

The Power of Eight

This is what you look like after 8 hours of sleep.
Yes, count them: 8.
Your daddy and I weren’t as fortunate. We spent the night with one ear to the monitor, waiting for the call to come. This is just a fun little game for you, isn’t it?

Ok, little one. Game. Set. Match.

Ah, to feel the breeze on my tongue.

You are now at the age that all things are very interesting, but much more so when they are in your mouth. Your hands are one of the slippery reminders that your tongue is now an appendage. An explorer, if you will. And yesterday, you spent the entire day with your tongue out. I’m not sure if you were waiting for something to land on  it, or if you just liked the feeling of air. Either way, it sure was cute.

From Bad, To Worse, To We’re Totally Screwed

Oh my, what’s happening around here? It’s because I said my worst fear out loud. That happens, you know. You can think something, but then if you say it to someone (and I said it to two people), then it’s bound to happen.

All last week, your nap schedule was screwy. During the day, you wouldn’t sleep for more than 45 minutes at a time. But, I thought to myself (and then repeated it to two people), “at least you were sleeping between 9 and 10 hours at night”… After I said it, it went down to 6 hours, and now down to 4. Yes, I was up at 2:30 feeding you last night and I haven’t done that for months. Which is saying a lot, since you’re only 4 months old.

I don’t mind feeding you in the middle of the night, the only thing is that the lack of napping and long stretches of sleep have made you The World’s Crankiest Baby. Because when you don’t sleep well, you don’t eat well. And when you don’t eat well, you don’t sleep well. It’s a mad, mad, vicious cycle. And everyone knows, if baby isn’t happy, nobody’s happy.

From what your daddy and I can gather, this is all because your brain is working overttime. You’re growing and developing and learning new things. But, as your daddy said to me this morning during one of your screaming fits, you’d better be talking when this is done.

I’d be satisfied with long division.

What’s the word I’m looking for?

Overwhelmed. That’s it.

Your mommy has been feeling very overwhelmed lately. This growth spurt has been particularly difficult and yesterday, you finally broke me. I just wasn’t sure if I could take it any more. I cried almost the entire day, and then felt guilty for crying and not enjoying you more. I felt as if I spent most of my day watching you dick around with your bottle, gurgling milk and spitting it everywhere. And I couldn’t help but think how much faster this would be if you would just latch on to the booby. But, that’s not your fault; it’s just because of the way my body makes milk.

It just seemed endless. I would feed you for over an hour, play with you for about 15 minutes until you got tired, go up and put you down for a nap and then literally run from your closed door to get as much done as I possibly could. After pumping, I would have about 20-30 minutes before you would wake up and start crying again. On top of eating and other necessities, I have about 6 client projects running simultaneously, so I also have to return phone calls, emails and be creative. But, that’s not your fault; I made all of these commitments.

You’re just a little boy who wants to be rocked and cuddled and fed. Some of the most precious times we have during each day are when I put you down for a nap. You sit on my lap and look out your window and I sing you a lullaby as you quietly drift off to sleep.

My alternative, I know, is to start you in daycare. But, I just can’t seem to stop wondering what I will do when I come back home and you are gone. Who will I sing lullabies to? More importantly, who will sing lullabies to you?

That thought overwhelms my soul.

Giggle me this, Batman.

Some sounds just make you feel good. It could be one hand clapping, a box full of kittens, or the bone-crushing thunder of a monster truck rally. It’s subjective. Not so with the giggle that erupted from your belly yesterday as I bounced the mattress underneath you. That was pure gold, honey, heaven – pick your metaphor. Nothing could approximate the joy that echoed through the house.