Mommy and Daddy are really busy right now and we’ve had a hard time sitting down and coming up with cute things to say about you recently. So, until the creative juices start flowing and deadlines are met, we’ll resort to cute pictures (there are some keepers in every take, after I wipe off the lens…):
Mommy has had a few problems taking your picture lately. I get a few usable ones from each take, but the majority are of you reaching for the camera. I’m not sure why because the camera is something that you should be pretty comfortable with – given that it’s been in your face since the moment you were born. Here’s an example of what I typically end up with:
Or, I may get the occassional shot just after you’ve grabbed the lens:
In the mornings:
And in the afternoons:
Last Wednesday you went for your 6 month check-up with the doctor. More shots (boo!), but you did very well… we both did, since daddy wasn’t able to come and hold both our hands, I’m proud of us that we kept it together the way we did.
You are now weighing in at 15# 2 oz. which puts you in the 12th percentile. You also grew a whole 1-1/2 inches putting you at 25.5 inches, which is in the 20th percentile. The doc said you were growing great, developing great and looking great! We get to start you on some rice cereal or oatmeal in a couple of weeks; we want to give your system time to “regulate” itself with the formula before we introduce new foods that will make your poo even more toxic.
You’ve started to grab my glass and put it to your mouth, so we’ve given you a sippy cup with some water in it. Granted, the front of you has ended up a little wet, but I’ll proudly brag that you put that cup to your mouth – right side up – the very first time.
As I am writing this, your daddy is upstairs giving you the last few ounces of breastmilk. We’ve plum run out of frozen milk and mommy’s just plain ole sick of pumping.
So, this marks the end of that chapter in your life. But, alas, we start a new chapter. One that contains rice cereal, applesauce, carrots and eventually, Cheerios. Oh, what fun we’re going to have, little one. What fun!
[NOTE: Daddy's letter will be posted a bit later; he's under the weather right now]
My heavens, you turned six months old a week ago and it’s so hard to believe. To think of the wonderful things you have learned in such a short amount of time – no wonder you sleep so much! That learning is tiring stuff.
This month’s theme is motor. Motor skills and motor boat. Your motor skills are becoming more refined. You grab at objects with both hands – will even grab one object with one hand and another object with the other. Problems arise when both objects head for your mouth. You also roll over from your tummy to your back consistently, but as of this writing, you have only rolled from your back to your tummy that one time for grandma.
Motor boat is for that wonderful sound you make with your lips. You do this when you’re bored, happy, tired, sad, lonely, content… oh hell, you never stop doing this. And it was cute the first 1,000 times, but now your daddy and I have both been sprayed with spit, formula, milk and spit-up numerous times. Seriously, thay it, don’t sthpray it, man.
It never ceases to amaze me how you’ll struggle with something one day and then next you’ll be doing it with ease. Although, I’m certain it’s because you’re The World’s Most Gifted Child. No pressure.
A Letter from Mommy
You have become such a joyous, happy, smiling baby and it’s simply addictive to be around you. There are times that I put you down for your nap and I either want to crawl into your crib with you, sit and watch you for hours, or wake you up so that we can play! I’m afraid you have me completely spoiled, though. Every time I walk into the room or we see each other, your face lights up with the most wonderous little smile. And if you’re in your crib, you literally bounce with anticipation waiting for me to pick you up. I fear the disappointment will show on my face when I walk into a client’s office and am not met with the same greetings. I think I’ve come to expect it.
You have become quite intent in your play. Objects are now studied with a higher degree of detail before they are shoved into your mouth. And all books must be licked before reading. You still love to be read and sung to. I’ve had to go online and learn new songs because the monotony is slowly eating my brain. However, that has given birth to an entirely new issue, which will be the first chapter of my new book The Insomniacs Guide to Insanity. See, when you learn a new nursery rhyme, it will never leave your head. So when I wake up at 3:00 in the morning, Twenty Froggies or The Little Apple Tree are a constant soundtrack for the next hour or so… until the monotony puts me back to sleep. But, you love these songs and there are certain ones that you prefer to eat, play and go to sleep to.
It has also been several weeks since you have nursed and you are adjusting to formula and the bottle quite well. I still struggle and miss it so much, but I’ve decided I just need to find that next special thing for you and I. I’ve taken to sitting with you as you settle down for your naps. I bundle you up and sit you on my lap with your ear to my heart and your head tucked under my chin. You suck your thumb, Jack, and I get to sniff the top of your head and give you kisses as you drift towards sleep. My hope is that this becomes a routine for us and, as you grow older, if you’ve had a tumble, a rough day or just need to settle a bit, you will climb into my lap, place your ear to my heart and the world will be okay again. My hope is that it makes you feel as special as you make me feel. Because sometimes, sitting there with you in my lap, it erases every bad word or bad feeling I’ve ever heard or felt. I know I will never be able to erase the bad words or feelings that happen in your life; I just hope to make it better for just a moment. I love you, my little prince.
- Mommy
Recently, you’ve taken to grabbing either your bib or a burb cloth, shoving it in your mouth and screaming.
Something bothering you?
Yesterday when you were sitting in my lap settling down for a nap, you were intently examining your fingers. Your left hand had a hold of your right hand as if it were some new and exciting object. You would then direct this object’s fingers to your mouth and then quicklypullitaway, stopping a mere centimeters from your nose, where you would then gaze at them with much concentration. Then you’d sloooowly move your hand toward your mouth and let just the tips of your fingers touch your awaiting tongue. And then you’d quicklymoveitaway to study it again. Suddenly, you’d shove your whole hand into your mouth. And then sloooowly pull it away to survey these spit-glistened fingers. You did this over and over and over again. And I wanted to turn to you and say “Dude, is it the acid?”
We’ve made a big decision here at Olivet Central: you will not be going to daycare.
Besides the obvious heartache for Mommy, we really thought that part-time daycare would be more of a disturbance than a help. We’ve worked so hard to get you on a good schedule and routine and to break that for just a few hours a week isn’t likely going to gain us much. In fact, I’ll probably spend more time trying to get you back on track than anything else.
So, we’ve decided to hire a part-time nanny instead. Someone who can commit to 15-20 hours a week and help out while mommy clocks in some billable hours, visits clients and generally pounds the pavement for new ones.
Oh, and this person must be willing to refer to you as His Royal Highness, Doer of All Things Wonderful. Even if you poop on them.
I knew this day would come. I’d been waiting for it… for four days, actually. I knew that working formula into your diet would have some terrifying effect on the “outcome” in your diaper. And even though I’d been mentally preparing, it wasn’t enough. Watching your face turn red with effort, sweat beaded up on both our foreheads… the odor alone smacked me right in the face, knocked me to the floor and counted to 10.
