The rice cereal adventure has begun. Yesterday was the second attempt. The first attempt was not pretty. I think an equal mix of parental stupidity and infant confusion/hunger was to blame. In the time it took us, two rational adults, to decided if we were going to try rice cereal, how we were going to try rice cereal, how much rice cereal should we try, where should he sit while we try to feed him, and what rice cereal coming out of the mouth catching device we were going to use, Alex was impatient and hungry. Too hungry in fact to be curious enough to try to figure out what the hell we were putting in his mouth. He was not amused. So the bottle came to the rescue. He heaved a heavy sigh letting us know he was content that we finally figured out how to feed him, and drank the bottle dry. At which point Travis said, "I think he would totally take it if we mixed it in his bottle." Really? Ya think? Yeah...not really the point. We need to teach the child how to eat. Travis decided that no, we didn't. The bottle is way to convenient, and he likes it. Pureeing all food is apparently the direction we are headed.

Not giving up, we tried again yesterday. It went a bit better. I think he actually swallowed some of the cereal. Not a lot, but some. He wasn't as hungry as the first attempt, so he had some patience with me. He was willing to try for a little bit. But then he just looked at me with this exasperated look like, "Why won't you just give me my bottle? I'm hungry. I've played your little game. I'm done." So I figured some success was better than no success, and we sat down with a bottle.

Today will be try #3. We'll get this feeding thing figured out.

Well that was fun

Yesterday was Alex's four month check-up. He is officially 14lbs 4oz & 24" long. He is in the 40th percentile for weight and something like the 32nd for height. So he is still pretty small for his age. He seems HUGE to me. My sister brought her new baby Tom to visit yesterday too. He is sooooo tiny. He was 3oz smaller than Alex when he was born. Tom hasn't yet done the Stay Puffed Marshmallow Man thing Alex has accomplished, so he is still tiny. It was pretty funny seeing the two of them together. Alex looked so big compared to Tom, I expected him to jump out of his seat, walk over to me and explain Newton's law to me. Alas, he is still my little stinky baby.

Aside from updating his stats, he also got shots yesterday. Ya-uck. He was all gurgly and cute, loving the noise he could make with his feet on the paper covering the examination bed. But then...then...then the nurse came in with the needles. She stuck his left leg first. The delay for the reaction took about .8 seconds. His face was immediately so red it was almost purple. Instant tears. Insane screaming. Luckily she was fast, so when she stuck his right leg, he was still pissed about the left leg. I now understand why Travis was so unhappy when he came home from the first round of shots. That sucked.

He did calm down pretty quickly after the whole thing was over. But for a while after he was doing that breathing thing that happens after you cry really hard. Like you can't quite catch your breath. Yeah, that went on for about half the ride home. Needless to say, I did not stop at the appointment desk like they recommend to make his next appointment. That one will be made via phone.

Unfortunately even with some Tylenol, he did not do as well after the shots this time around. He was an unhappy camper in the late afternoon and evening. But he slept really well and was back to normal this morning. Hopefully they are right when they say babies have a short memory for stuff like that. Or I think the next time we go to the doctor, Alex will resemble a feral cat more than a baby.

Just 'cause

We put his Jumperoo together this weekend. I realize he doesn't look thrilled in this picture, but he loves it. And he is seriously so damn cute I can't take it. And I don't know why his hair looks red in every picture we take.

I'm there.

I think I am finally there. Or here. Or whatever. It has taken this long, but I think I finally can say I feel like myself again. Well, an altered mom-type version of myself, but as close as I think we are gonna get. I am not really sure what flipped that switch, but it has been flipped and I am very happy about it. I can honestly say it has taken until this past weekend for me to feel this way.

Up to this point, I have just felt...off. Now I can guarantee there are quite a lot of people that would say I am a bit "off" most the time, but the off I was feeling was different. I couldn't put my finger on what it was, but it wasn't right. It wasn't me. I was a frazzled, tired, impatient, not so happy version of me. Don't let me fool you. I still feel frazzled and tired...and I am working on the impatient part. But it all feels more under control all of a sudden. My guess is that it is no coincidence this new feeling of stability is coming at the same time as Alex consistently only waking once a night. Perhaps that little bit extra of uninterrupted sleep has made all the difference. If that's the case, can you imagine what I am going to feel like when he is sleeping through the night? I will be unstoppable!

I think that Alex's ability to interact is also helping me a lot. That and the constant, never ending, what feels like an eternity of time we have spent together. I am starting to feel like I understand him now. I can more easily figure out what he needs and how to make him happy. And even if I can't figure it out, or soothe him quickly, I at least now feel like at some point I will figure it out. We will just figure each thing out as we go. That feels a heck of a lot better than the insane-o circus we were living before. There were animals everywhere and the monkeys wouldn't stop throwing their poo at me before. Now? Now I feel like I could command all three rings and have the bears on their highest tiptoes while spinning circles in pink tutus. Either that, or I will just feel good and have a happy baby. Although sometimes I feel like the bears may be an easier task.

Off to the races...kinda

Yesterday was be-a-utiful in Madison. So when I got home and everyone got settled, the dog and I took off for a little run. See? I told you I was going to start getting serious about this working out stuff.

Anyway, apparently I need to make sure the mutt is getting to run a bit more often. We have been extremely lax on the trips to the dog park since a certain furry little one who shall remain unnamed took over our lives. Aiden was beyond hyper on our run. It was like I was running next to a squirrel with a massive case of ADHD. She was all over the place. So many things to smell and piles of leaves to pee on. I wanted to keep the pace up so after the 18th pile of leaves, I stopped stopping for her. She actually at one point half squatted/half kept running while peeing on a long pile of leaves on the side of the road. I didn't even know that was possible. However, it was quickly determined I am not the only one in the house out of shape. She fell asleep on the couch approximately .7 seconds after we got home.

As far as me being out of shape. I actually did less walking on my "run" than I expected, which was nice. But then this morning I woke up and it feels as though I have a mean little leprechaun walking around with me stabbing me in the left hip with every step. Perhaps I should not have gone all out last night. This new hip development is taking the elliptical out of the repertoire for this evening, but I think the stationary bike should be doable. I have to keep going with the workouts. Every time I start working out after taking a hiatus I instantly remember how much it improves my mood. One would think this would be a good part of motivation to keep working out. Yeah...I'm not so smart.

Time flies baby!

We are creeping up on four months that the hairy little beast child has graced us all with his presence. He has become a maniac. This morning he was laying in his crib watching his favorite elephant friends spin endless circles above his head and he was kicking his legs continuously and forcefully for a good 6 minutes straight. All the activity was in happiness...he and those elephants have a very special bond...but it was incredible. He is so much more fun now. No more larval Alex. He has been nicknamed Shark Boy...constant movement or death.

Anyway, without further ado, I give you almost 4 month old Shark Boy, Alex T. Julius

If those don't make your heart explode with glitter covered rainbows and sunshines, I don't know what will.

Tipping the scale

We went to my parents' house for a visit on Sunday. We got to hang out with my parents, my sister, and her family. We ate great food and Alex showed off his skills. None of them had seen Alex in almost a month, so they were taken aback by the size of him. It's crazy how big he is getting. Naturally, while sitting in awe of his fat little feet, we all wondered how much he weighs now. I do not know this because I am afraid of scales and do not have one of the demonic devices in my home. My parents are not afraid. They have a scale. Let the weighing begin!

Problem though. We can't very well have Alex stand on the scale. He may be able to roll over, but the skill of standing still alludes him. So this means someone has to weigh themselves with and without Alex. I was not about to be that person for fears aforementioned. Nicki volunteered. I think it was more because she got to hold him again than really wanting to know how much he weighed, but her doing it meant I didn't have to. Done and done. After her skinny ass scoffed at her weight without him, she grabbed him and got back on the ego shattering scale. Wanna guess?...14 pounds. He is 14 pounds. He is creeping up on triple his birth weight. My little furry critter is growing!

I figured since Alex bit the bullet and got weighed, I should too so I can truly know what I am working with here. Yeeeaaahhh. The number that came up is burned into my brain. It will never be spoken aloud. It is that bad. I have gained 5 pounds since I released that boy into the wild. GAINED 5 POUNDS. Fantastic. Now, I knew I need to lose weight. I just didn't think I was heading in the opposite direction of where I need to go. I was thinking I was at a stand still. Turns out not so much.

So here's what I have decided. I need to get over it and buy a damn scale. That wretched number has thrown my world into a tailspin and it needs to be a smaller number. Much smaller. I am also seriously figuring out a workout plan. Like yesterday. This has gotten beyond a touch out of control and I need to reign it in. A Cooking Light subscription has been mailed in. The recipes in this magazine are not only created with better for you ingredients, but they have appropriate portion sizes listed as well. I love food. Like a lot. Portion size is an issue for me.

Better eating and exercise. This is my plan of attack. My plan to attack the size of my ass. Because damn.

Rolling Update

He is rolling from his stomach to his back a bit more regularly. Back to stomach, not so much. We'll get there young skywalker.

It was glorious

Once. One time. For a half hour. That was it. That's all Alex was awake last night. He ate at 8pm, went to sleep, woke up at 1:30am, guzzled 6oz, giggled while I changed his diaper, went back to sleep immediately and stayed that way until 6:30am. He didn't even budge while I hit my snooze button for almost an hour. I was just so happy to be able to stay snuggled in with the dog, I could not force myself to get up. Needless to say, I am donning an unwashed ponytail to work. Whatever, I showered yesterday. Later in the morning too. Totally counts for today.

I am crossing everything that can be crossed that this will last. I know that I shouldn't be so hopeful because chances are he is going to decide to be up a million times tonight as payback for being so nice last night, but a girl can dream can't she?

The other nice thing about him not getting up a lot was that he was in a great mood this morning. Weird right? Who knew that babies are happy when they aren't tired? He sat in his bouncy chair and watched me get ready with a smile on red alert so he could melt my heart each and every time I looked at him. He was also quite chatty this morning. It's a good thing my toaster takes so long, it gave us time to solve global warming. Expect his dissertation. It will have to be translated into something other than, "Oooooo. Oooo! *Burp* Oooooahhh." But it will be noble prize winning. I am sure of it.

Let's get rolling

So since The Rolling Over Incident, Alex has yet to roll over again. He kinda gets close but then just ends up getting pissed off that he is on his stomach and lets his face smush into the blanket he is laying on. However, last night and this morning, he is getting frighteningly close to rolling from his back to his stomach. He's got the legs pulled and twisted over technique going, he just needs to get his arms and head going to make it over. Attempts at rolling this way are much more fun to watch. He doesn't get all mad like he does when he is on his stomach. He kinda looks like a horizontal Weeble Wobble. There is a lot of rocking from his back to his side with his legs pulled up. It's like primitive baby break dancing...with no rhythm.

Who's got the caffiene?

The amount of tired I am today is close to indescribable. But here we go anyway.

I went to bed at 11:00pm last night because of yucky circumstances beyond my control. Alex woke up at 12:30am to be fed. Fed him, changed him, and went back to sleep around 1:00am. Alex then woke up again at 3:30am. Not because he was hungry, but apparently because he wanted to sleep snuggled up with someone gently patting his butt. Because really, why not? Seriously, pretty much every time I stopped patting because I was, by the mercy of all things powerful, actually falling asleep in that recliner that I have grown to loathe, he would squirm, whimper, and toss his head around. Until the patting resumed. Then he would peacefully put his little hairy noggin back on my shoulder and get back to sleeping. This little dance carried on for an hour. And then, just for grins, he really woke up because he was hungry. Ok. Fine. You're hungry. Let's get you fed and back to bed SO I CAN GO TO SLEEP! What's that? You want to take exponentially longer to eat because you would like to multitask and poop at the same time? Sweet. Great idea. I couldn't think of a better plan...except, oh I don't know....EAT FASTER SO I CAN GO TO SLEEP! No? You'd rather poop? Awesome. At 5:15 Travis took him downstairs, I got back in bed, my alarm went off at 5:30. Yipee fucking skipee.

This whole having to get up at night was a lot easier when I didn't have to work. Who's going to win the lottery and give me a healthy portion of their winnings? ... That's what I thought. Damn.

I am working on choreographing an "Alex Sleeps Through The Night" dance. It's kinda like a Rain Dance. You will all be getting your dance step instructions soon. Get your blue suede shoes ready, Mommy needs some sleep.

Give me more giggles!

I've said it before, but it is worth saying again. This kid's giggles are as addictive as crack. By the end of each workday, I find myself itching to get him from daycare and immediately do anything I can to get my fix. It's a good thing he is pretty good about giving them up, or you would find me in a corner rocking back and forth making funny faces at the wall.

This past weekend we visited Travis's brother and his family. My sister-in-law loves babies more than anyone I have ever met. Hands down. And she can make them laugh like nobody's business. She had Alex laughing so hard, his cousin was worried that he wasn't breathing. I swear I do the same things she does, but I only get about 42% of the reaction she gets. That woman has got skills.

There are no defenses to this giggle. It renders you useless. It melts your heart into a puddle of warm gooeyness. The silly toothless grin that accompanies the giggle doesn't hurt either.

Proved me wrong again.

So yesterday I was all worked up about not doing the right things to help Alex develop mentally and physically like he is supposed to. Then I picked him from daycare.

The daycare teacher asked me how often we do tummy time with him. I sheepishly admitted not very often and then quickly rattled off multiple reasons to justify why she shouldn't be disappointed in me. See yesterday's post for said justification reasons. She looked surprised that we don't do it very often, so I asked why she was wondering. This is what she told me:

"I put him on his tummy and he stayed there for a bit and then he rolled over. So I put him backed on his tummy and he rolled over again, but to the other side. He kept doing it for about 20 minutes!"

Did you see that? HE ROLLED OVER! BOTH WAYS!

My look of shock when she told me this immediately let her know I had not witnessed it so she suggested I put him down on his tummy and see what happens. And sure as shit, after about 32 seconds on his tummy, he rolled right over. He did it with such ease it was like he has been doing this for weeks. Now I know why he is un-swaddled every morning. He is in his crib secretly practicing rolling over.

Obviously I am super happy about this new development. I felt so relieved that he is normal! How silly is that? Like I can't tell that he is normal by our interactions everyday. I mean normal developmentally. This kid has no shot at not being a weirdee with me and his dad and our friends being around. Anyway, I am also having a few conflicting emotions. Shocking, I know.

I am a little sad I wasn't the one to see him roll over for the first time. It kinda drove the point home that he is at daycare a lot and I am going to have to get used to them witnessing a lot of his "firsts". I mean I get to see him do it whenever I am with him, but I didn't get to see the first one.

On the other hand, I am once again elated we found this daycare. It is so nice to know that they aren't just plopping him in a swing all day and stuffing a bottle in his mouth when he is hungry. They actually do stuff with him to help him grow. The Rolling Over Incident isn't the only time I have noticed this. The other day I came to get him and he was sitting up in a Bumbo, just chillin', watching the other baby that was there. We have one, I just haven't busted it out yet. Guess what is getting busted out? It will be nice to not always have him reclined or laying down if I am not holding him. Which I realize means I have to not hold him so much.

Now if they could just figure out how to get him to sleep longer throughout the night. Geez!

What's right?

Is it just me, or does every new mom feel like they are not doing things right? I crave to hear what other babies Alex's age are accomplishing, but then worry that he is not doing it as well as the other kids. I can't let go of the feeling that I am not doing this right and he is going to suffer because his mom is a bumbling idiot.

I was thinking this feeling was coming from the mom board thing so I started paying attention to when the kids were born since most mom's list their kid's birth date. But that still doesn't settle my brain. I don't know why I can't just be satisfied that he is healthy, eating well, obviously learning things as we go, and happy. I am happy with those things, I am just worried that I am doing things or not doing things that are holding him back. It's almost like I feel competitive with the other moms and their kids. Although it's not a feeling of wanting him to be better than the other kids, it's more of wanting constant assurance that he is on par with the other kids. I'm not going crazy, why would you say I am going crazy? This is a totally rational way to think. Right? Right?

I think a lot of my problem with this is that I feel like I don't have enough time in each day to do the things you are supposed to do. Like tummy time for example. I want to do tummy time, but I am not going to put him on his stomach and walk away. But if I am sitting right there, I can't make dinner or do the laundry or get his bath ready or wash bottles or blah blah blah. So where do you make those choices?

Last night he was sleepy, but was fighting it, so I decided to rock him and read to him. But I was really not in the mood for Farm Babies or anything of the sort. I really want to read this book Mariah lent me. It's called Lovely Bones. It is very well written, but very sad. And totally inappropriate to be reading aloud to a baby. But that apparently is the mom that I am...I read a book about murder to my baby. Nice. But I figured at this point, he doesn't really understand the words...And they do say it is important to read to your baby. Done and done. For one day. Tonight we will read about Farm Babies. I promise.

Stinky

It's official. He is for sure my kid. He already thinks poop and fart jokes are funny. No matter how I say it, every time I tell him he is stinky, it cracks him up. Even if I am just telling him in a very matter of fact manner. He stills grins as wide as he can and contorts his body into a pretzel while doing the throaty, spit gurgling giggle he's got goin' on.

This morning was no exception. I was almost late to work because I sat there for at least 15 minutes telling him was the Stinkiest of all the Stinky boys in Stinkertown. And he thought it was the funniest thing he has ever heard.

It was a good thing for my ego that he found me amusing this morning after the shoot down he delivered yesterday. I went to pick him up from daycare and the teacher that was there said he was smiley all day. She had been gone for about a week and she said he even seemed happy to see her, almost as if he had missed her. Which was interesting since I couldn't get him to smile at me for anything. I could have told him there was a brand new package of golden fleece diapers just for him and he would have continued to stare at me like he has never seen me in his short little life. Super great feeling when your 3 month old baby is more amused with a daycare teacher than his mom. Little snot.

Settling in

I feel like nothing is changing anymore. We have settled into a routine, kinda, and we're plugging away each day. The thing is, Alex changes pretty much every day. Each day he gets a little bigger, giggles a little more, sits up a little stronger. So why don't I feel like things are constantly changing? I don't know if it's just that the changes aren't quite as monumental as completely upending your life by bringing home a critter that is completely and utterly dependant on you for everything. Or if it's just that I am getting used to having life in a constant state of flux. Perhaps it is just that I am too damn tired to be so concerned about things not staying the same. Whatever the reason, it is nice to not feel so out of control. There are still a lot times that I have no idea what this kid wants, but eventually we can figure it out.

Watching him learn is awesome. He has found his feet a couple times. You would think once you have found your feet, you would remember they are there. Not so much. Every time he sees them he stops and just stares. It's hilarious.

He is also getting the idea of imitating noises and actions. So when I wag my tongue out of my face at him making silly noises so he will laugh, he immediately starts poking his tongue out of his mouth. And when I make an "oooo" noise at him, he coos back and then giggles and flails about with glee and pride that he figured it out. I think we may amuse each other for quite some time.

More babies

My sister is having a baby. Like right now as I type. I have been getting status reports throughout the day. Which each report things are obviously progressing. At the time of the last report, they had broken her water and her contractions were getting pretty serious.

Just the thought of that feeling kinda makes me uncomfortable. I don't know if I am just a wus, but I am not one of those people who "forgot" what labor felt like. It hurt. A lot. And once it was time to actually get the kid out, it was hard. However by that point I had taken advantage of pain medication so it didn't hurt anymore, but it was no walk in the park. Having my mom describe the look on my sister's face immediately brought me back to the hospital room and that very long day. The leaking, the sweating, the neverending onslaught of contractions feeling like my spine was separating from my body. Childbirth is no joke.

On to the better thoughts. It's pretty cool that Alex is going to have a cousin so close in age. I have four cousins. Total. And none of them live all that close. So the whole cousins growing up together thing never really was a big deal for me. Alex already has 8, not counting the one being born right now. I am super pumped to watch those relationships form and for him to have cousins to look up to and to grow up with.

Hurry up Baby Guerin #2. Your cousins are waiting!