Seven Months

It's not possible.  The time has flown faster than I imagined it could.  He's definitely the cutest boy in the world at this point, and growing cuter exponentially by the minute.  Little gurgles have graduated into full-on ramblings of amamamamamamaa.  His wild hair is somewhat tamed now, especially after I butchered it last week with a pair of dull scissors.

The rolling over is causing havoc, especially during diaper changes and in the middle of the night when he ends up face-down on the mattress and wakes himself because he can't move his arm.

A tooth popped up.  In fact, two.  It came without much fanfare, but I took at least 15 minutes trying to get a good close-up picture of them.  He seems amused by me at this point, if nothing else.  It's ridiculously easy to make him laugh out loud.  Occasionally, a guffaw.

I didn't believe this day would come, simply because at one month I though I might die from exhaustion or post-partum depression.  Now that we're at this point, everything seems so much brighter.  Even when everything else in the world collapses on me on any given day, this seven month old makes me feel lighter.

So thank you, baby, for the seven months.  It's been quite a trip...and quite a workout.  You're humongous!

Fighting the Sandman

The baby is asleep.  Hallelujah.  Not that I don't love the baby.  I totally love the baby.  But the baby is asleep.  NOBODY MOVE.

When your baby is a light sleeper, or a non-napper, you will beat the living daylights out of the UPS man for ringing the doorbell.  The mailman may have to mace you because you will attack him for being too loud walking up the steps of your home.  I almost went out with a bat to beat a car to death for having a misbehaving alarm that wouldn't shut the Hell up.  God forbid there's construction going on anywhere within earshot of your sleeping child.  There will be bloodshed.

The other day I actually whisper-yelled at my husband for "breathing too loud."  The baby is sleeping.  THE WORLD MUST STOP REVOLVING.

There was a time when the baby slept all the live long day, but that was in the early, newborn weeks when he was trying to grow brain cells and whatnot.  For three months or so, he literally slept all day long.  It was heavenly bliss, looking back on it now, although when it was happening I complained that he "wasn't doing anything."  What a moron I was.

Now, he's six months.  SIX WHOLE MONTHS.  I can hardly believe it!  The changes we have all witnessed in this half a year have been mind boggling.  But the sleep thing, oh my.

He stopped sleeping all day long and started napping.  At first it was a nap every two hours awake.  That was at around three, four months old.  Now, it's two naps, if I'm lucky.  One early morning long nap, which lasts around two to three hours, IF I'M LUCKY.

The afternoon nap used to be like clockwork.  One or two o'clock, he'd pass out for two hours.  Now?  Not so much.  He's just too alert, too awake, and too cute to sleep, apparently.

The problem is that when he doesn't sleep during the day, he is a miserable little turd.  No offense to you babies out there, but when you don't nap, (and this seems to be a fairly universal thing I'm experiencing) you are little turds the entire time you are awake.  You don't seem happy about anything, you want to be held and never put down, you whine, cry, whimper, pinch, bite.  It's like a free for all bitch fest up in this house when the baby doesn't nap.  And then, around bedtime, you pass out...and wake up...and pass out...and wake up...until the sun rises.  It's just wrong on so many levels.

So I started forcing nap time.  "Hey," I told the baby, "All the baby books say you can spoil a newborn up 'til about six months.  Well, pal, you're SIX MONTHS OLD.  The party's over."

It was like he was fighting death every time I put him down.  He would whip his head from side to side violently, beat his tiny fists on the sofa cushion, and do leg lifts, just to beat off the sandman.  It was impressive, but I was not giving up.  After a few weeks of battle, he finally began sleeping on a regular routine.  After waking in the morning, he'd eat, then quiet play, then he'd start yawning after about 2 hours.  Nap would soon follow.  It was perfectly set.  I would get two to three hours of nap, or computer time, whatever I wanted.  Ahhh, lovely.

His naps usually took place on the sofa, which used to be wide enough for him to lounge upon without fear of accidentally rolling off.  But soon, he was too gigantic for the space.  I had no choice but to try to nap him in his crib.

I thought napping on the couch was tough.  The crib?  Surely I was delusional.  There was no way this baby was going to nap in his crib.  I had been putting off this transition for months, thinking it would be pure torture for both of us.

So yesterday, I saw the rubbing of the eyes, the yawns, the red and watery stare.  He whined when I put him down to play.  It was now or never.

We walked into his room, I put him in the crib, played the Glow Worm and the Sleep Sheep...threw every calming trick I knew at him.  I put a soft blanket over him and crossed my fingers.  He grabbed the blanket and pulled it to his face, rolled on his side, sucked his Soothie, and promptly fell asleep.

And that's how it went today, just about a half hour ago.  Which is why I'm on the computer typing this RIGHT NOW.  Hallelujah!

The Return of the "What Ifs"

There must be a way to say this delicately, but I surely don't know how.  I would rather Boxing Helena myself than get pregnant right now.  The very thought of having another pregnancy right now makes my hair stand on end.  That's how tired I am.

So when my husband looks longingly at little newborns in their strollers as we walk down the street, I break into a cold sweat.  My heart feels like it may explode.  I suddenly can't feel my face.  It can't be that he wants ANOTHER baby so soon?!

The issue isn't that I don't think about having another baby.  It's that I don't know if I want one.  And if I think about it too much, my brain hurts.  The conversation my head and heart have is something like this:  

HEAD: You can't possibly think that having another baby will be a good thing.  You're broke.  You have no time.  You're both working.  How would you do it?

HEART:  Yes, but wouldn't it be nice for our little boy to have a sibling?  I mean, then he would have someone to commiserate with about his crazy family.

HEAD:  A sibling would be nice.  So would food and electricity.

HEART:  Sure, it would be tight budgeting for a family of four, but in the long run, don't you think it's best to have two kids so they can keep each other company?  Think of how much they can give to one another!

HEAD:  No.

HEART:  Yes!

In the end, it will be my uterus and aging eggs that will decide.  If, in a few years, we start trying for another child, it will be after many conversations about the "what ifs."  

Yes, the dreaded "what ifs" are back, and in full force.  

My Valentine

Just because you call a day a "holiday" doesn't make it so.  However, since Valentine's Day (the most made up holidays of them all) requires chocolate to make it complete, I accept this fake day in honor of my insatiable candy craving.  This chocolate thing may kill me.  I can't stop eating it.

Since the birth of my little dude, I've craved chocolate since the first week of sleeplessness.  It's been scratching at my gut for months now, and I can't seem to get a grip on it.  For months, I've been plowing through stashes of chocolate I've strategically placed all over the house.  And for V-Day, the only thing I asked for was a heart-shaped box of See's candies.  The same went for Valentine's Day.  Hey, I proudly eat chocolate to honor our Veterans...do you?

And now I'm thinking, the outcome of all this can't be good, right?  I mean, I will eventually die of heart failure or some such hideousness if I keep this up.  

But lo and behold...I stepped on the scale the other day and saw 133.  At the height of my pregnancy weight I was 185.  Before I was pregnant I was 145.  How this was accomplished is a mystery, since I've been eating like a Hoover vacuum cleaner.  

Granted, I've also been breast feeding for nearly six months, which has been said to aid weight loss by burning an additional 200-800 calories a day.  

Now, at 5'2, I'm still over by my doctor's standards.  My BMI is 24, which is on the border between healthy and overweight.

But in other news...chocolate and breast feeding may be the best diet I've ever been on...EVER.

Teething Pains...For Everyone

The teething has begun...I think.  Actually, it's hard to tell what is teething and what is just baby being baby.  He hits the 6 month mark in a short while, which is supposed to also usher in another growth spurt.  This could also be causing the sleepless nights.

Once the kid started eating solids at four months (suggested by our pediatrician) we did notice a significant change in his sleep at night.  He would pass out and sleep like a rock for solid stretches at a time.  This new feeding regimen added to the sleep training my husband implemented around four months meant 7-9 hours of sweet, sweet sleep.  It was pure heaven.  Sleep is goooood.

However, around five months he started fussing again.  It was cruel, like someone ripped a carpet from underneath our feet.  Again, we were exhausted and sleep deprived.  He was waking every hour to 90 minutes to soothe.  We assumed it was teething, since we could see the little ridges outlining those front chompers on his gums.

To the local Walgreen's we went!  We stocked up on teething rings, organic teething gel and tablets, drops, baby Motrin, baby Tylenol...basically, lack of sleep made us desperate.  Camilla drops seemed harmless enough, so we bought that, too.

But the six month growth spurt looms overhead like the Hindenburg, ready to crash into without warning. We're not sure what we will do if the two events collide.

Teething + growth spurt = nose dive off the nearest bridge.

Teething Hell

Here are the things we bought the other day...

Boiron Camilia Drops

Hyland Teething Tablets

Hyland Teething Gel

Baby Motrin

Baby Tylenol

Vibrating Teething Toy

Raz-a-Dazzle Silicone Toothbrush

Finger Toothbrush

The other tricks people suggested, such as a frozen bagel, we did not try because I was afraid of the baby chewing a chunk of bread and choking on the pieces.  I did freeze a wet washcloth, but the baby took one lick and rejected it outright.

The Vibrating Teething Toy is awesome and flat out works.  Although to say something "works" with an infant is really saying "it works for five to ten minutes, and then he throws it across the room."  Be warned, though.  The toy does not come with replaceable batteries.  Therefore, when it's done, it's done...although you can still use it as a toy.  It's squishy and fun to chew on for baby.

The Raz-a-Dazzle baby toothbrush works well for baby because he can hold it on his own and chew on it without choking.  It has a barrier that prevents him from stabbing himself in the back of the neck.

The Finger Toothbrush is simple, cheap, and works well.  Also, you don't get a finger full of drool after massaging his gums.

The Boiron Camilia Drops combined with a squirt of Tylenol or Motrin seems to work, however.  He went from sleeping in spurts of an hour to 90 minutes to sleeping in chunks of 3-4 hours.

We are careful to alternate Tylenol and Motrin, however, so he doesn't overdose on one or the other.  Also, we don't give him medicine throughout the day.  One squirt at night is our general routine, and only if it seems like he is in serious discomfort.  Also, Motrin is only supposed to be given to babies six months and older.  Tylenol can be given earlier.  However, our baby is well within a healthy weight and size range to take Motrin at 5 1/2 months of age.

The Hyland products give me pause, only because they use Belladonna in their teething tablets.  I found the following on a general website:

"Hyland's reports that there are no side effects associated with the use of their teething tablets, nor is there a risk of overdosing or encountering a drug interaction if taken in conjunction with another pain medication.

However, one of the ingredients found in Hyland's teething tablets, Belladonna alkaloids, is known to cause dry mouth, blurred vision and urinary retention when taken in larger quantities. Hyland's states that one teething tablet contains approximately 0.0002 mg of Belladonna alkaloids, and it would take at least 0.2 to 5 mg of Belladonna alkaloids to cause side effects.

Belladonna alkaloids produce a variety of effects in the body, including reduced muscle spasms in the urinary and digestive tracts, and a reduction in fluid secretions from certain organs and glands. Belladonna alkaloids are often used in conjunction with phenobarbital to treat irritable bowel syndrome and ulcers in the intestine.

Belladonna has the potential to be dangerous, but only if taken in large quantities and if you are taking another medication that Belladonna might interact with. Cold, allergy and pain medications are medications that Belladonna could interact with, causing increased sleepiness. When taken with alcohol, Belladonna can cause drowsiness and dizziness. Because Belladonna reduces fluid secretions, perspiration may decrease, which increases the risk of heat stroke."


I'm not usually an alarmist, so I will probably try the tablets, if pushed to inhuman limits of sleep deprivation.

But if there's a better product out there, I will surely find it.  I am, after all, the Google queen.  But the best teething toy so far by a landslide?  It's cheap, easy, and readily available.  And yes, I'm talking about my finger.

Solid...Solid like a Rock

By kid is big.  Huge.  By any standards, enormous.  His stats:  29 inches long, 22 pounds, 5 months.  That's not just large, that's Andre the Giant large.

And he hasn't "plateaued" like most people have been telling me would happen.  He just KEEPS GROWING.  Apparently, that's what babies like to do...grow into big humans!

I'm starting to dread when other mommies at the park ask me, "So, how old is yours?"  When that question comes up, I immediately avert my eyes, mumble the response, and then wait for the same reaction I get every single time.  "HOLY MOTHER YOUR BABY IS GIGANTIC."

Yes, I know.  I have a big ol' baby.  More of him to love, I say.

It could be the super-human breast milk I'm feeding him like clockwork, although he doesn't seem to eat as much as he could.  He certainly doesn't empty the breast at all, and usually he just nibbles and has a jolly good time instead of getting down to business.

However, it could be the solids.  Yes, we started him on solids, on the recommendation of our pediatrician. His weight and size qualifies him for REAL FOOD apparently.  Big boy needs big eats.

Before you start quoting the ills of feeding your baby solids before six months of age, let me assure you, the pediatrician had no problem at all telling us to try out solids.  This baby is a big boy.  We go by weight and size more than actual age nowadays.

His appetite for solids started out well.  He loved pretty much everything we put near, in, or around his mouth.  Per doc's orders, we started him on rice ceral, then moved on to veggies.  Fruit was last, for the obvious reasons.  If someone gave you a peach and then said, "Here, eat this brussels sprout" would you be pleased?

Carrots were a hit.  All squash and root vegetables went over well.  He even liked turnips, which I have trouble choking down myself.

I have to give credit where credit is due, though.  The Beaba Babycook is AMAZING.  I use it regularly and the difference between store bought and home cooked is obvious.  The color, taste, and general quality is so much more vibrant and baby friendly.  The lil' dude ate it all and loved it.

So now the kid is breast feeding and eating 2 squares a day.  Maybe this is contributing to his continued healthy growth.  Either that or he will be writing a tell-all book about his steroid use.

Five Months Old

Holy cats.  My baby is five months old.  And he's a real baby now, which means he is grabbing my hair and pulling it out in clumps.

The difference between an newborn and an infant is remarkable.  No longer does he need the head support when he is picked up.  When you carry him around in your arms, he likes to sit up, not cradle.  He whips his head around like a little hoot owl when you walk the room and soaks in everything he sees.  He is amazingly entertaining in so many ways.

Not that the newborn stage isn't fascinating in its' own way.  But it's like Dian Fossey living among the apes...you tend to study the baby more, wait for responses to be obvious and not so subtle.  You wait...a lot.  It's just a watching game to see what you can pick up and write down in your baby book.

But at five months...wowza.  The amount of learning that occurs is staggering.  He is on his tummy daily, trying to reach that fuzzy toy above his head.  He leans to the right or left according to what he might want to grab.  He has control over his arms and no longer punches himself in the face.  That's right...no more baby fight club for this lil' guy.

He's also big for his age.  21 pounds, almost 29 inches long and growing every second.  Not so much an obese baby, but a SOLID baby.

And mommy's back is always reminded of just how solid that baby is.  Ow.

Adventures in Sleep Training

Baby slept like a dream from day one to about three months.  He was out like a light all night long, only stirring once in a blue moon for a quick feed, then gently passing back into sleep.

And then November 22nd hit.  It was a firestorm of night feedings, relentless rocking, soothing, pacifiers flying about the room in a frenzy of panic.  Suddenly, baby was no longer a great sleeper.  He was awake. All the friggin' time.

Every hour or 90 minutes or so he would wake up and cry.  My husband and I started to get cranky.  Real mean and cranky.  It was terrible waking up knowing the long day was ahead of us.  All day with the tot.  And he had to go to work.  I was exhausted by four.  He was equally exhausted when he finally got home. It happened every single night for over a month and a half, and it was brutal.  We were sniping at each other over dust on the table, lint in the dryer.  It was madness...MADNESS, I TELL YOU.

So at four months, which is considered on the young side, we decided to try sleep training.  My husband wanted to try the CIO method (Cry It Out) which required me wearing earplugs.  The reason?  When the baby would cry for more than a second, I would start bawling.  I was not a big proponent of the CIO method.  It was meant for tough guys.  Admittedly, I was a big wimp.

I asked my friends about their experiences in sleep training, and 9 out of 10 said that CIO was better than the No-Cry Solution, which often took longer and was more sleepless nights than I wanted to endure.  One friend even said that it took just three days for her little one to get it down.  THREE.  I was sold.

So last week, we tried CIO.  He cried, we would let him cry, and then he would get soothed by a hand on his tummy or chest and a calm voice, "It's ok...daddy/mommy is here."

The next time he woke, which was usually an hour or two later, we would wait longer, and then repeat the routine.

Every time the baby would wake and cry, we would extend the time we would wait and then go in.  It was a slow torture.  I got little to no sleep, basically because I would lie awake waiting for him to call for me.

After that first week, Friday came.  We put him down for the night and went to bed in anticipation that we would soon be up again to check on him.  7 1/2 hours later, we woke up.

A fluke?  Perhaps.  Saturday, we put him down.  7 hours later, he woke up.

Sunday, Monday, Tuesday...like a clock.

Now that's not to say it's a perfect sleep world.  He wakes up at 4 a.m. and coos and smiles, and we have to get him to lay down again to sleep for a few more precious hours.  But unlike before, he puts himself to sleep.  We can put him down in the crib and he warbles and talks to himself until he drifts off to slumber.  No more rocking and walking around in circles, which is a miracle in itself.

Sleep training worked.  Hallelujah and thank you baby Jesus.

Why I Might Not Be Mother's Group Material

I was thinking the other day...I may not be appropriate for a Mother's Group, and here's why:

1) Whenever breastfeeding is brought up, I always comment, "You breastfeedin'?  Doesn't it SUCK?  UGH."

2) I'm far too pretty for a Mother's Group and they'll all be jealous of me.

KIDDING.  I actually look like Marilyn Manson on a bad day.  Good day?  Phyllis Diller.

3) I hate talking about how motherhood has been a life-altering, amazing, beautiful change.  I prefer to discuss and vent about the days I wake up covered in baby vomit and smelling like pee.

4) My last discussion with a mom went something like this:

A MOM:  Oh, I'm so happy.

ME:  I woke up the other day and totally forgot I was a mom and I was SO RELAXED.  Is that wrong?

5)  I can't talk to women who have flat stomachs and kids.  It makes me physically sick from depression.

6)  I don't exercise and I eat crap.  Yes, I'm breastfeeding.  My milk expels twinkies and pork rinds.