93 days...

This post is a few days late... but, before you dock me a letter grade, let me explain.  

Carter had his 1/4 birthday on Monday.  Though not the biggest of deals; you may have gleaned from earlier posts that Patton and I were REALLY looking forward to this particular milestone.  Tongue-in-cheek, we joked about how at 12:01 on the 16th, Carter would magically declare that he has 'worked out all the kinks and the ridiculously-obnoxious-painful-screechy-baby-gas is NO.MORE.'   

Well, perhaps we should have let the boy in on our expectations, because his interpretation of being 3 months old, went a little something like this:

"WAAAAAAAAAAAA.....WAWAWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA...EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE...AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"  etc.etc.... all.day.long.

The situation flew past insane by noon and was down right comical by 4p, at which time I loaded the babies into the car and began the most ancient of all parenting rituals (yeah, you know, the one that I would NEVER have to stoop to): driving around until the banshee in the back seat finally fell asleep.

By bedtime he had seriously tuckered himself out and (joy-of-all-joys) fell quickly and peacefully into sleep by 7:30.  

But, here's the beauty-part-  To make up for his very bad behavior, Carter redeemed himself by sleeping straight-through the night, 12 hours, without a peep until 7:30 the next morning!  And then, to really drive his point home, he proceeded to have the very.best.day.ever!  Perfectly on his little routine, napping and playing and cooing all in the right order, with not so much as a hint of gas all day.  (tiny-little-butt-head.)  And, today was another great day, so he's earned his keep for at least a little longer.  

Happy 3 months & 2 days, little buddy- keep up the good work!

Oh, yeah... the OTHER one

I'm feeling a bit guilty.  In looking back over my last few posts (say like a WHOLE MONTHS WORTH) I realized that I'm all "Look at mama's girl, Look at mama's special widdle girl,"  "Isn't SHE so cute,"  "Don't we all just want to talk about Sofie ALL DAY LONG!!" with very little mention of mama's baby boy. It's slightly nauseating.  And, honestly, it's about as "fair and balanced" around here as a FOX NEWS program.  

BUT, here's the deal.  Turns out that being 17-months old is a WHOLE LOT more note worthy than being 3 months old.  I mean, really- with Kid One running, and playing in the snow, and diaper hiding and what-not.  And Kid Two sleeping, and blinking and shrieking with gas pain; it's hard to equally represent my children on this here blog.  But, in fairness to the boy (and those of you who do happen to recall that day last December when I birthed a wholly separate small child), here's the update.

*****

In a few days, Carter will be 3 months old.  I know it doesn't sound like much, but this is a huge milestone.  One that I am clawing toward with every ounce of patience, pragmatism and mind-over-matter that my body can muster. let me digress for a moment...

This little boy is amazing.  All blue-eyed and squishy cheeked and nom-nommy kneed- he is a heart-breaker.  And aside from the obvious superior cuteness- he is doing all the adorable little things that keep (most?) parents from eating their young.  For example, he's got a smile that is  simply heart-melting and a coo that distracts me from every.single.other thing in the world.  The other great news:  He is an awesome sleeper.  Since 6 weeks, he's been sleeping a least 6 hours, and in the last few weeks has snoozed happily from 8p to 6a (with only a dream feed at 11p to tide him over).  He's taking great daytime naps and is adorable and alert when awake.  

Perfect, right!?!  Well, only mostly perfect.  Lest you think I lay golden eggs (they do hatch from eggs, right?) or sit around all day basking in the glow of perfect, angelic babies who poo rainbows and sunshine-here's where the karmic balance and the three month thing comes in...

In a word: babygas.

I may be very close to my wits end on the topic of infant gas pain.  I know it's normal.  I know it will pass (pun.yes.).  But, DEAR GOD!  It is unreasonable, and a huge cosmic FAIL , that a being who subsists entirely on one singular substance would have such a remarkably hard time processing said substance.  And I understand gas.  I realize that it is uncomfortable and sometimes a little bit sting-y.  I know that babies can in no way be held at fault.   But the screeching and the wailing and the absolute pitifulness of it all is... well, unbearable for us all.  

I have read (in what I'm sure is a very scientific study written by 'the internet', or quite possibly 'them') that at or around the three month mark, a baby's digestive system finally gets it's lazy ass up off the couch and joins the rest of the work force.  And, I'm told that it was at exactly three months that Sofs finally eased up on the 'round the clock methane production (though if it was as bad for her as it is for Carter- I have serious mom'nesia for the event).  So I'm holding out hope that in another week or so this gas thing will be mostly behind (yes. again with the pun) us.  And just in case this whole matter does not miraculously clear itself up by Monday, words of encouragement and/or home grown remedies would look nice in the comments section :)

******

I am so in love with this little guy-  He totally makes my every day. But, the baby gas? NOT. SO. MUCH.

(in my best 'Gump-ian' accent:)  And that's all I have to say about that.  

So here, pictures of the boy that will make us all forget about... um, what was I grumbling about .... 

simple math Q: toddler+running+downhill+concrete=

A:

..the first major marring of an otherwise adorable face.  

It seems that along with a taste of the spring to come, the outside world is also sporting a whole new kind of gravity.  Sofs was outside, enjoying the new weather and freedom, for no more than 10 min before the 'head meets walk-way incident of 2009' ensued.  I believe there was some "running" involved, and  a downward grade, and most importantly a serious lack of baby breaks, but mostly it must have been a sudden attack of vicious, vicious gravity.  

It seems like a huge cosmic fail to give such a giant, fragile, bonk-able noggin to something so epic-ly uncoordinated and wobbly.  But, for as loud as the "thwack", and for as ghastly as the remaining bruise, Sofie seemed remarkably tough about the whole thing.  Of course there was screaming, and tears and hysterics (and Sofie was upset too :) ) but, she was reenacting the scenario (head whipping against the couch, all the while laughing maniacally) in under 5 minutes.  She is such a trooper.  

No residual side effects of the the head bump... save for maybe more head bumping.  Perhaps it's because I was paying particular attention (or maybe the slight swelling caused her head to grow to even larger proportions-thus getting EVEN MORE in the way) but the rest of the weekend her head met EVERY. SINGLE. SHARP POINTY OBJECT in the house.  And as I was reaching for the baby tylenol right before bedtime, she leaned down to get the binky and BASHED the other side of her forehead.  TRAGIC. 

But she's fine.  In that toddler kind of way.

Because Sleds are overrated -OR- No One Buys a Sled in March

A real snow day- Finally!  Not that I care much for the cold, or the precip, or winter for that matter, but I am always at least a little happy when it snows.  And this year for the obvious reasons... baby + snow = ADORABLE! 

Sofs seemed mesmerized all morning by the abundance of white stuff outside (much more so this time than on her first SNOW DAY, but more than likely that's because she had a better idea of just how AWESOME snow days can be)! 

I'll spare you the details and just post the video, but first, 2 words:  LAUNDRY. BASKET.*

*and also, electrical cord... because you're not truly a hillbilly until you stuff your kid in a laundry basket and drag her through the snow with an extension cord... yee haw!

The Secret Ingredient

With raised eyebrows, many people begrudgingly congratulated Patton and me on our pregnancy and the impending birth of our second child.  They also felt it necessary to let us know that having children so close together was going to be, well... "A NIGHTMARE AND TOO HARD! OMG WHATAREYOUTHINKING!! ( ...I am, of course, paraphrasing.)

Anyway,  some of the more subtile concerns for our welfare included (but were not limited to): Two babies with bottles in diapers, Not enough time to spend with either, SLEEP!, The older won't be able to "help-out" with the younger, etc etc... 

WELL!  We'll show you, Naysayers!! Turns out that last one was way off.  I've got more help than I could ever have imagined :)  ThankYouVeryMuch!

Other than the occasional "bring that to mama." request, I don't really ask for much in the way of help from Sofs.  But, this incredibly perceptive and HELPFUL  little girl has been picking up on some of the very subtile details of the day-to-day routine, and offering assistance in a way that only a 16 month-old can.  For example: 

1. When the baby cries- She goes to him.  If he's within reach, she will try to offer him the binky, or a kiss or give him a gentle pat on the tummy.  
   
2. When the baby's swing stops- She gives him a little push.  She'll also start the music for him (wether he's around to hear it or not).
   
3. When the baby's mouth is open- She puts a Cheerio (or sippy cup of juice, or hunk of cheese...) in.
4. When the baby's eyes are closed- She sticks a finger in it to make sure it's still there.
5. When the baby gets his diaper changed- she takes care of the dirty diap for me.  

So Helpful...  in the horseshoes and hand-grenades kind of way.  

I mean, I can't get over how adorable it is that she came out of the kitchen clapping as if to say, "I did it.  You're Welcome!"  And I also can't get over how glad I am that I realized the diaper was missing and NOT in the trashcan.  It did not take me long to realize that to a baby, one cupboard is the same as the next, because WOOHOO!  Prize in the baking cabinet!  

So sweet.  These are the moments that I'm really glad I had our babies close together.  Because, if I had a 4 year old shoving dirty diapers in with the Bisquick, I'd be less than entertained.