Oh man. How do I start this?
I wrote a post on the eve of Rt’s first birthday almost 6 years ago and can tell you I am in a completely different place than I was then. It still makes me sad that I had such a hard time on the inside with getting through those first 365 days. I didn’t know myself yet, so how was I supposed to be his everything? The “stuff” you get to work out that very first year with that first bambino. If I only knew then what I…..
Fortunately, times have changed and I’ve gotten to know the real me throughout this parenting process. I can honestly say that I don’t regret anything about Sam and his first year. Such a pleasing thing to be able to say. It was a whirlwind, of course. I would have loved to have slowed down a bit and watched him grow more closely, but I believe I did a fine job tackling this three kid thing which included raising said infant. Plus, there were a lot of days it was just me. That says a lot about me and my abilities and I will take FULL credit for it. ha.
That doesn’t mean all the days were rosy. And I’ll take full credit for those too. I’ve said it before, but if my neighbors take my parenting skills based off of what I say in the garage to and from school, they might need to pick up the phone… It’s not pretty. And yes, I wish on a daily basis I could take back a few reactions on my part, but I know when to say sorry and teach my kids I could have chosen another path. Such a humbling experience, this gig.
Maybe that is why Sam seemed so easy. And when I say easy, I mean he was a baby, who couldn’t talk, who needed mostly his primal needs met and not much else. He seems easier compared to these other people I live with. He’s still a baby. And that is clearly hard work. He’s just more of a guarantee, I’d say. Predictable when the rest of life isn’t.
This is about Sam, isn’t it? Gah.
He’s a lover. He loves to snuggle just enough before wanting to get down. He wants to get up on the couch when the rest of us are up there hanging out. He likes being apart of the group. He’s been saying “Hi” in the best Southern drawl I’ve ever heard for a month or so. That’s about all that has come out of his mouth so far. No mama. Just DA now. Dada hasn’t returned since sometime last year. I swear he says “here” when he brings me something, but I might be hearing things.
He took his first steps right before he turned 11 months and now he’s walking almost everywhere plus he can stand up from a seated position. He eats anything and everything off the floor. Whether it be actual food, a lego head or a piece of his own dried poop pellet (I KNOW) it’s made it’s way to his mouth. He has a love affair with the trash can. He is a dumpster diver and has no desire to stop anytime soon. (Our can is currently up on our kitchen table. Classy, huh?)
He loves his paci and will turn it upright anytime it’s put in upside down. He wears his sleep sack to bed and sleeps with his butt in the air. LOVE. He goes right to sleep these days with not much protest. WOO HOO. He took his last scoop of formula in his milk yesterday and is on full milk bottles as we speak. I tried a sippy cup yesterday for kicks, but he just casually sipped from it over and over again at a snail’s pace. I wasn’t in the mood, so I gave him the bottle instead. When I’m fed up with washing bottles (WHICH IS PRETTY MUCH NOW) I will put it in a sippy and never look back. Maybe on a weekend when it’s not just me.
He can make the “S” sound and likes to receive butterfly kisses. He doesn’t mind being tackled, which is quite handy since it happens more than not. He will bring you anything, most likely give it to you, then go get something else and do the same. Or, he will offer it to you, but take it away and tease you all over again.
He’s a happy baby. He has been from the start. He likes to eat. He hasn’t turned away much I’ve offered to him yet. He didn’t like the consistency of the banana and sweet potato as finger foods, but he’s come around as of late. His hair, or what fuzz he has looks brown, but there are tons of blonde hairs coming in underneath. I’m not holding my breath on a matching baby because the same thing happened to Hola and he now has the darkest of the older two.
He’s got blue eyes like his daddy’s. The shape of his eyes look like my mother’s, I’m told. The shape of his head is just like his brothers, BIG. They all get that from J. Not me, I repeat, NOT ME. I think he’ll be my biggest baby at his 1 year checkup. He’s not large and in charge, just long and solid. He still fits perfectly on my hip. I hope that remains the same for many days to come.
It’s all happening so fast. I’m still going to call him my baby, but he’ll be a full-on toddler before summer ends, no doubt.
This birthday of his makes me thrilled yet terribly sad at the same time. He’s it. Our last hurrah. It’s the end of an era for us. Yes, I am glad we are sleeping, and, no, I cannot handle more kids since I think it’s not easy to give everyone I already have the attention they need and deserve. It’s bittersweet.
I do know that every night before I put this adoring baby to bed, I hold him over my shoulder and he nuzzles his darling head into my chest, I smell his sweet scent and rub my chin over his peachfuzzed hair and wish upon the stars to never forget such a moment. It’s everything I have ever wished for and more.
I am so grateful. (and now I am crying. DAMMIT.)
Come hell or high water, I am going to write and finish this post today or I am going to go crazy. (I am finishing this 3 days later.)
I’ve been meaning to get on here, time and time again, but something/someone always comes first. (And yes, that might be a tv show during the one hour a day I get to myself.)
This three kid gig thing is rather time consuming. I was just thinking the other day how wound up I used to get when Rt would wake early, or need extra help in getting back to sleep during nap time. I would yell under my breath down the hall, “You have GOT to be fucking kidding me” or “what the fuck do you WANT?” Now, J did begin traveling for two days every week and I did spend a lot of time by myself, so I do believe there was probably some resentment going on there. I quit my job, I decided to stay home AND we moved to another city when Rt was 5 months old. Lots of change for this ‘ol brod.
Man, did that girl need a shot, a break, or a different mindset. And that is just what I have now. No, not a hot toddie, but my mind is on another level. A calmer one. I don’t always show it. Hell, I am SURE I yell more now than I did 6 years ago, but who in their right mind is going to yell at a 9 month old? (in their presence, I mean.) What’s there really to yell about? GET IN THE CAR? Nope. STOP TEASING YOUR BROTHER! No. It’s funny to look back and realize how nice and calm everything was, yet I was spinning inside over the littlest things.
Hey, I was a new kid. A new mom. I didn’t know. Now that I do, I feel like the baby things that might have dragged me down in the past, the sleep training, the food feeding, it doesn’t really phase me.
I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR IT TO. Thank God. Seriously. I am SO thrilled and so content to be as busy as I am. It makes me better. I feel better. I am more efficient. I use my down time with the kids better since I know it only comes in small increments. (most of the time. I can be an ass too.)
This is how I thrive. Even though I may complain, I thank my lucky stars on a daily basis and feel grateful I’ve got this pack to care for. (All four of them.)
Speaking of, let’s talk about Peppa.
Man, has this boy made the moves in the past month or so. We still only have 7 teeth. The same 7 we had since 7 months. Where is that 8th tooth? I have no idea. I keep looking for it, but putting my finger in there is SEVERELY DANGEROUS.
He began crawling a tad about a week before we left for the holidays to Oklahoma. So, at 8ish months, he started to crawl. And now, at 9-plus months, he’s at a decent speed. He follows his brothers everywhere. They are pure entertainment for him. What fun to watch all of them together.
He began to wave a couple of weeks ago while we were at the police station recovering my stolen wallet. He had said Da Da Da for a couple of months now and has now added Va Va Va to the mix. It sounds like MA MA, but I know it’s not.
Since deswaddling him back in his 7th month, we hit some rocky roads regarding sleep. I have never had this kid before, but once he wakes in the night, which was usually once, he was wide awake. What the hell do you do with a wide-awake baby, a husband who is out of town all of the time, then have to care for all three kids day in and day out. Well, you go back to feeding him anytime after 3am in hopes to help get the baby to pass out again. Then, we traveled, blah, blah, blah.
I won’t go into detail, but after some persistent assistance in the sleep department a couple of nights, like we did with the other two, I am getting some solid sleep. It feels great. It’s so much easier to go into the night with a plan. Ahhhh.
So, as of the other day, Peppa has pulled to stand. I knew putting legs back under his activity table would help progress this, and yes I feel that if I never give him the opportunity, he will never do so. I CAN CONTROL THIS. You see, he is my last baby. And he needs to stay this way as long as possible.
Also, his older brother took his first steps at 9 1/2 months and that would be next week for Peppa. So, anything after that means I will not get another “BUSY” kid. Hey, busy kids are truly the best, but I believe each family should only get one. That way, everyone doesn’t lose their minds in the process.
Peppa is a happy, smiley baby. He likes to make himself know with the highest pitched squeal known to man. I think he just wants to be heard among the chaos, but MY GOD. Woah. He has finally mastered his pincer grasp and has gone to town on every variety of Puff I’ve put on his tray. He stares at his hands all the time. He watches his thumbs move back and forth and can’t get over the fact they are connected to his body.
He’s a keeper. Can’t imagine this life without him.
So, Peppa turned 6 months almost two weeks ago.
Funny how that happens.
He had his appointment on Friday and weighed in at 19 lbs, 11 1/2 oz. 28 1/4 inches long and has the head/body proportion size that resembles a light bulb. 84%, 94%, 98%.
He can roll front to back, back to front, would love to sit up if he only could and takes a crapper every time he’s in his beloved exersaucer. I just borrowed a free-standing jumperoo from a lovely gal and can’t wait to see him jump till the cows come home.
He is now on three meals a day since yesterday. In order to get him off of 36 oz of formula a day/6 bottles, we had to get those three meals in. We had been on two since we started feeding him at 5 months, but needed more to pull back on the liquid diet.
We are not feeding him till he wakes around 5am, so this part of the sleep training is tedious, but doable. Still are not able to deswaddle him yet, but that is the next step. We do have it looser than before, so that’s a start.
This kid is just as loud as his brother Hola. I guess you have to in order to be heard in this camp. Sometimes when he concentrates on a toy, he makes these hilarious noises that make him sound like he’s in a really bad porno. Can’t NOT think about it once the idea gets into your head. Trust me, I’ve tried.
He’s a sweet, sweet boy who loves to grab on to mommy’s hair and never let go. He adores all of the attention he gets. The kisses, the spins in the exersaucers, the mouth/gas noises his oldest brother makes, all of it. He likes to be apart of the gang.
He’s perfect and everything I never knew I needed.
We still nap in the swing because I just can’t take a short 45 nap right now. Speaking of, we are having one of those right now! Bonus. I have to wake him during his morning nap to get to the gym, but when I have PLENTY of time in the afternoon, I get a short stint. And forget about getting him back to sleep myself. He has better luck putting himself back to sleep than having me go in there. We’ll see how this goes.
What else. He’s eaten almost every basic vegetable and fruit out there. I even smashed my own banana this morning and mixed it with oatmeal cereal for breakfast. Needing to branch out a bit before some of these fruits head out of season. Anyone know anything about giving a 6 month old kiwi?
Anywho, I took some 6 month shots of Peppa last week and want to use one on our wall, along with the 3 shots we have up for the other two boys as babies. So, basically, it needs to be a good shot. Here’s what I got. Tell me, honestly, can I do better? I can do a reshoot. (ha.) J thinks I can. SURE. I can pencil that in between the bon bon eating and the soap watching.
But seriously, I do want it to be GOOD good. Each boy has a 2 month, 3 month and a 5 or 6 month shot up on the wall. This is the last one I need. Thoughts?
He is kinda laid-back and chiny no-neck, but if I had him sitting up any further, all I’d get is 46 photos of the top of his head while he searches for something on the ground to pickup.
Last Friday, I got Peppa ready for our incognito burrito mission by dressing him in the latest Target girl’s fashion. I found a cute $6 pink striped dress with pink bloomers. I spent a total of $6 and thought I’d send the outfit to little miss LG down the road at HomeSweetSarah’s after I finish my intense research.
As I mentioned last post, I decided to change our destination from Target to Trader Joes due to the intimacy you experience there. Hell, if you are not rubbing up against the person next to you, it must be a quiet day in the store. What I didn’t think about was the fact that it was crowded, but everyone was there for a purpose and wanted to get in and out of the store quickly. Not much time left for goo-gooing over anyone’s baby.
So, we spent most of our shopping session with the three of us pushing our carts through the madness. Yes, I had a cart and Rt and Hola both had their own little carts. We were a force to be reckoned with. I figured my research was a big ‘ol wash by the time we got to the checkout, but I was wrong. One gal who’s line we were supposed to go to was crushed when we were moved to another line. She looked at Sam and did all sorts of gooing and such while pushing our cart to the other lane.
So far, we had some gush. Baby gush.
Then, we spent our time checking out getting both little carts back to their spots and paying our $161 bill. YIKES. Not until one of the checker ladies went over to Sam to push the cart forward did I see she engage him and talk baby talk to him. Smiling and cooing continued until she asked “How old is she?” I said, “4 months” and that was that. They took him for a girl and we were on our way.
I had to stop at Old Navy and return some shirts I purchased in the wrong size. I noticed I didn’t have the stroller in the back of the car (Thanks J!) and had to put Sam in the carrier facing outwards. It was a quick trip, so I figured I could do it without breaking my back while keeping tabs on the other two kids.
Nothing at all was said to us when we went through the store. Even the checkout gal could have given a rat’s ass about us and said very little. (Not that she was supposed to, just noticed she didn’t.)
While getting the two boys in the car, a lady who had parked next to us was waiting for us to finish up so she could get in to her side of her car. She made some comment about Sam, nothing I can recall, something little, but then said, “Two Boys and a Girl, you’re all set.”
And I said, “Yep, we are.”
(Inside the car, Rt was saying under his breath, “Pretend girl, PRETEND GIRL.” He wasn’t digging the foolery as much as I thought he would.)
And that statement summed up a lot of what I’ve experienced since finding out Hola, #2, was a boy. To make my family “perfect” the end goal was to have one of each.
Well, yes. We were going for one of each. We just didn’t get it.
I think I will always hear about “shooting for a girl” and “are you going to try for a girl?” For some reason this makes an ideal family. Luckily, I disagree because otherwise I’d spent the rest of my life feeling less than someone who happens to have a boy and a girl.
Isn’t this all up to chance? (And, yes, I did try to control my “trying to conceive” environment and get myself a girl, but it didn’t work. And I’m a hard worker.)
Isn’t there a study out that says the most happy people in a family are ones that have all girls, or two girls? REALLY? Based on what exactly? What is it about boys that makes them so undesirable to have? Busy? Messy? Loud?
I thought I might have been at the end of my research after that trip since I didn’t think I would troops Sam around for days on end in a dress, but I was wrong. I happen to take him out alone a couple of times this week since my mom has been here and discovered some other things. (He was all boy for this venture, btw.)
People approach babies more often if they are the only baggage you have around. The other two tots were not with me. I was available to oooo and aaaa over my baby if someone came up to me. I wasn’t distracted. I went to Babies ‘R Us where, of course, they like babies. Sam got some good fawning over for being a smiley baby and smooshy gushy stuff was said to him while we were checking out.
Another trip to Old Navy found similar results. This portion is quite hilarious. It was the same checkout lady that we had earlier in the week when all four of us were there. The one that didn’t say much? Well, this time Sam was in his car seat inside a BRU cart. (Once again, J hadn’t put the stroller back in my car and I had forgotten to do something about it STILL.) She was trying to peak in to see the baby. Mentioned something about being a happy baby etc.
What a difference! Do any of you find this when you are out and about? Only baby, more attention? More chaos, less notice? Please chime in..
So, I think I have one more visit to Target alone with my undercover bambino to see what I find in that situation. Just to see if my theory of being alone with a baby does in fact make a difference. Overall, this has been fun. And it’s what it was supposed to be from the get-go.
So far, my conclusions are:
Being alone with a baby matters on attention getting.
Having a boy and a girl still seems to be the “perfect family” to some.
Babies get attention.
The older the kid gets, the less attention they receive.
*I’ll update once more after my last venture, but wanted to ask if anyone has noticed anything interesting or different since I brought up this subject in the first place? Do tell…
So, how in the hell did we get here already? I mean, two months? 9 weeks and change? That’s a lot of days (and nights!) It’s been a crazy trip and a strangely natural one as well. It just seems to be how it was supposed to be all along.
I look at Peppa and wonder how he could look any different. I mean, I didn’t know what he was going to look like prior to getting here, but just staring at him, I can’t imagine him not looking JUST LIKE THAT. Such an oddity.
He’s such a sweet little baby. He does let us know when he needs to be fed and put down to sleep, (and if you miss that window on getting him to sleep, which happens often in this crazy place, he’ll let you know it,) but otherwise, he’s pretty laid back. His personality is starting to show. Fun! He loves being outside. It really calms him. He always has one extra burp we neglected to get and he tends to spit up a lot. Not like, Hola, by God, but a second place finish, for sure. His eyes seem to be staying blue and seem to change shades depending on what he’s wearing. (such a girl thing to say, huh?)
His brothers ADORE him. Can I hold him? Can I feed him? Can I burp him? “Peppa has the longest to die,” Rt says. While that statement is horrifying, he basically means he’s the last one to get here, so he has the longest ride. Makes perfect sense, but COME ON. Creepy.
This child has little time to nap. I seem to be waking him up to plop him in the car to go pick up someone, somewhere. Luckily, he’s gotten to the point where he can fall asleep in the car as opposed to WAILING he needs to be elsewhere RIGHT NOW and you better step on it lady. Ah…..progression!
So, since his naps are hit or miss depending on the day, he makes up for it in the night which is HUGE considering hubs travels and dealing with a newborn and two other talking children is HARD WORK, MAN. He was progressively sleeping later and later into the night with us even putting him down earlier and earlier in the evening until last night. He woke at midnight. Little bugger. Ah well, just a reminder these little bitty things are MAJORLY in control and we’re along for the ride. Let’s hope it was a fluke, right?
I truly can never complain about getting up in the night considering hubs also gets up as well. If he is the one sleeping in, then he gets up in the night (only if Peppa sleeps past 3am) and I get up with the 6ish feed along with the older two. Then, if I am the lucky one to grab some more zzzz’s in the morning, I get up first. It’s so nice. Especially when I am on by myself when he’s gone. (Of course, this is exactly how it is for most moms who breastfeed exclusively. HATS OFF TO ALL OF YOU. I would keel over, then run for the hills daily and pass out en route. You’re AMAZING.)
He’s smiling, cooing and what looks like intentional batting at the toys on his activity gym. He’s getting fun and everyone is getting excited about this. I often tell the other two to give their brother space because I can only imagine what two animated heads look like RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOUR FACE.
This guy eats like no tomorrow. He downs 5-6oz bottles and never turns one away (unless he needs a moment to regulate himself.) He eats every 2 1/2 to 3 hours and can cluster feed here and there. I am anxious to see how much he weighs tomorrow at his appt. At 6 weeks, he was 10 lbs 14oz . Up over 3 lbs since birth. Love me some chunky babies!
Here is the picture I used for his birth announcement. It’s my favorite to date.
I posted the entire announcement a couple of weeks ago on Style Lush in case you want to see how it turned out!
So, It was brought to my attention that the new baby needs a moniker. Both of his brothers have had one since their online debuts, so it’s rightfully so for #3 to get his turn. I have thought about this for all of one day, but I think I’ve come up with the perfect nickname.
From now on, #3 will be known as Peppa, as in, Peppa The Pig.
In the night, when we’re all alone and I’m feeding him a bottle, all I hear is this little snort coming from my wee one. While burping him, he snorts again and again while pecking at my cheeks for more substance. It’s my favorite sound in the world.
Rt and Hola have come to adore the British show, Peppa Pig. So, when the snorting began, I figured it was fitting. Plus, what ELSE would I call him?
If you have any suggestions, please let me know. Otherwise, I’d like to introduce you to Peppa, my little piglet.