Birthday Pics

Long after the party with family, the four of us settled in to celebrate Zach's big day together. Just like it was a year ago when he came into the world. Without the stress of party planning and associated to-do lists, we were able to just focus on soending time together. And we had a ball, though when we sang "Happy Birthday" to my precious baby boy, I was crying too much to get all the way through the song. Zach enjoyed cake and ice cream for the third time (the first for the cake smash photos with the photographer and the second being the party with my in-laws). This time, I made chocolate-butterscotch cupcakes with vanilla frosting. An it seems with each occasion, Zach has gotten even more into it. This time, he even had sprinkles in his eyelashes before it was all said and done. The chocolate ice cream made an even bigger, hilarious mess, and we all dissolved into laughter when he tried to even lick the plate.

Overall it was a great day.

Teaching the Art of Mess-Making: A Pictorial

If there is one thing our Evan is good at, one area in which he is truly gifted, it is in the art of making the biggest mess you have ever seen. This afternoon, he and Zachy were playing in the baby's room, and I, completely oblivious, was doing other things while periodically peeking in on the boys. Of course a large tote of Zach's outgrown clothes (which I had been organizing and packing away) was obscuring my view. Lo and behold, when I was able, I went into the room to play with the boys. What follows is a glimpse of what I saw: Evan has taught Zach to make a mess, unbeknownst to me. And we couldn't be happy unless all of the toys were on the floor...


It starts with a few....

And just when Zach has found something he would like to play with, Evan shows him something else, to which Zach immediately crawls over to get a look...

Hmmm, there are even more toys to scatter on the floor....

I love this one. The boys playing together. And you can really get a shot of Zach's big-boy haircut. Turns out he has the same hairline in the back as Evan and I do.

This one kind of freaks me out a little bit. The flash was off on the camera. The light wasn't on in the room. It's cloudy outside. Where did this light come from? And it isn't the first time light has surrounded Zach in pictures in his room. And it doesn't happen when we photograph any other subjects.

He is really interested in this little drum. And that little elephant: that's been his favorite since he was old enough to bat at toys.

And with this one, I suddenly don't mind the mess. Zachy, looking less like a baby and more like a toddler with his new haircut, reels me in everytime with those baby blues. Suddenly it was less about the mess and more about brothers playing. Despite the huge age difference. Together.

BRU is Causing My Breakdown and Tweet Tweet

John brought in the mail. And in it is our little BRU ad we get. Which I usually love because I can peruse the sales and see what latest invention is that I must have for Zach. So I get the ad and I look at the damned thing and come to some painful realizations.

We don't need crib bedding. Or infant carseats. Or strollers. I don't need breastpump parts or supplies because my breastfeeding days are over. And look at that cute Boppy pattern! Wait! Zach's too old for that now.

OMG it's over. It came and went so fast. And I am so sad. And I would want another baby, but I know that one will grow up, too. Maybe I can be like that 19 Kids and Counting lady. And as soon as one is done nursing, the next one will be cooking. Except that I am not insane. Or crazy-religious. And I wear jeans. Skirts are for job interviews and funerals. So that plan is out the window. Plus there's the whole my-uterus-does-king-fu-tricks-when-there's-a-baby-in-it thing.

Okay, whatevs. I'll be okay. Just hold me back from the ledge.

So on another note, last night I was bored and wanted to stay awake so I could sleep today before work. And I got on Twitter. Yep, Twitter. I had an account from where, years ago when Twitter first came out, a friend made me sign up. Nobody else was using it then, and so I still have the same pitifully low number of friends on there. But since all of my passwords are variations of the same thing, I was able to log on. And--OMG--I heart Twitter. Seriously. Facebook is full of my work contacts and family, so I am limited to what I can say on there. But Twitter??? The world is my oyster there. So if you tweet or twit or whatever it is called, look at the little badge thingy on the sidebar and hit me up.

Freezing Time

Over the course of last evening and today, I have managed to book the photographer for the boys for next week. We were originally going to do this for the whole family, but I know I am going to be crying, so I don't want to be in pictures that are supposed to be happy.

Zachary's birthday photos.

I cannot believe it is just right around the corner. In 2 weeks, we are making the trip to John's mom's to celebrate with them, and I need the proofs of the photos for them to select the ones they want. I'm a little nervous because I did this completely differently than I normally do. Instead of taking them to a cheesy portrait studio, I booked a private photographer to meet us on location at a local park to capture what it is that I want to have for years to come. And I am thinking of the expense. I remember when Evan was a baby, and he was so photogenic. We lived in a small town, and the only place to get photos done was Wal-Mart. Home of the $5 Portrait Package. Even then, I managed to spend $600, and John was aghast that I could do that at such a cheap place. So you can imagine how a professional, private photography session could spin us into the spiral of bankruptcy. Whatever, I don't care. I need this.

Of course the photographer is going to think I'm crazy and weird and anything else you can think of, but I want her to know. I want her to understand when I cry. To know that this baby is a true miracle. That for someone who never should have made it into the world, he has brought so much joy to all he has touched. That watching him grow has been the most amazing journey this past year. Is a photograph truly worth a thousand words? And if so, will these be the words spoken? When she snaps photos of Zach and Evan together, will she get it? Will Evan's resilience he has shown as he has adapted from being an only-child to being a big brother after 9 years show through the photos? Can she capture that, frozen in time, for me to hold onto as the years pass in a blur of firsts: first days of school, first dates, first cars...?Because as the years pass, I will still be clutching these photos to my chest, remembering. The contractions, the baby giggles. Evan's innocence and his adoration for his baby brother. This. I will always remember this.

Of course I have some fun ideas up my sleeve. As in the Great First Birthday Cake Smash. I had this idea for a while now, and did some online searching to find out I am not as original as I thought and this is appparently all the rage in children's photography. Just a happy, chubby, diapered baby and a brightly-colored birthday cake. With a single candle. The first of many, yet so very precious. Because we experienced parents know how quickly those candles multiply. Just like parenthood, this is sure to be messy, unscripted, and completely joyous.

And so now I have done it: I have made myself cry in anticipation of roughly one month from now, when Zach's first year will be over. When Evan will enjoy the last summer of his first decade of life. It is like we are standing on a cliff, with all we have survived behind us. The joys, the struggles, the celebrations, the milestones. The experiences.

And we are just about to leap into the unknown.

I hope she can capture this time before we do.

Ending for the Third Time

I am finished with breastfeeding/ exclusively pumping. It was great. It was real. We did it. I'm glad we did and despite all of the trouble, there is no doubt in my mind that I would do it all over again. I love him that much. But it's really over. I finally got myself down to where I can quit pumping. Yesterday, I pumped twice and only produced 1 ounce total, on both sides, for the day. Yes, I'm really done this time. And to tell you how really done I am.....(Erm, I should say "finished", because the mix-up of finished/ done, as well as the exchange of good/well are just two of my pet peeves.)

So anyway, I was about to explain how finished I am.

I am so finished that I made a phone call to a local breastfeeding boutique tonight to see how I could go about selling my pump. The big MamaJamma. The Symphony. The one that retails for $2K. And at first the woman didn't really believe that I bought one. She said that most people who have brought them in have stolen them, that they only own one themselves and the rest of theirs that they rent out are actually leases from Medela, etc. I gave her the serial number and she called Medela and discovered that it was indeed sold to a buyer by the name of Andrea XXXXX, that it is available for resale. And she offered me $1K (and another $200 in merchandise was thrown in), which I thought was pretty damned good considering I have used it for the better part of a year. And with my employee discount at the hospital, I only ended up paying $1600. So if you do the math, it cost me $400 to use my own Rolls Royce of breastpumps for 8 months. And so I met her this afternoon and sold my pump.

I sold it.

John couldn't understand why I teared up as I was packing it up. Because he is a man and just doesn't get it. I did everything. I really did. And we had a good run, Zach and I. I remember when he stopped nursing altogether and I thought it was over. And then the pride I felt when he drank a full bottle of my milk and seemed to prefer it to formula. When Zach was about 4 months old, I dropped down to where I was getting 1/2 an ounce total output for both sides and I thought it was over. And I kept on. We have toured every nook and cranny of Cincinnati in order to find obscure herbs recommended online by sites advising on increasing milk supply: teas and tinctures and capsules. I remember the day John went to run errands and came back to find me completely topless with Zach in just a diaper in his Moby Wrap while I was doing the dishes. Desperate for time to do Kangaroo Care in between my crazy pumping schedule, this was the only way I could manage to do it. He really did think I had lost my mind at that point. But if it was supposed to increase supply, I was going to do it. I didn't care what it was.

I sold my pump.

I hated the damned thing. Waking me up every 2 hours. Sucking the life out of me in more ways than one. Making it so my life was consumed with pumping schedules and ounces produced and ways to get more, more, more. But I loved the thing. Because you cannot convince me that it would not have been over when Zach was just 2 months old if I hadn't bought it. And I am so connected to this baby, and I believe this is why. Because while my body wasn't tough enough to maintain him during the pregnancy, damnit I was strong enough to feed us both.

I sold it because I knew that I would always try to do better, try to do more. That so long as my body kept making mere drops of milk, I would try to make ounces. I had to close this chapter.

I sold my pump. This chapter is closed. I love you, Zachary.

10

Ten. 10 months. This week, I had to fill out my schedule request for the next 6-week schedule to come out, and I had to remember to mark myself off for the big day: Zachary's first birthday is that soon. And then, as if I wasn't already feeling that, today I got an email from the photography studio we use to recieve some discounts for his first birthday photos. And yesterday in Target, I saw all of the Birthday Boy stuff they have. And I started bawling in the middle of the store when I saw the little tee with a big blue 1 on the chest.

It was just yesterday.

It seems as if Zach's first year is flying by even quicker than Evan's did. As a matter of fact, next month, because of the way everyone's work schedule is falling, we are going to be making the trip down to John's parents' to celebrate Zach's birthday with them. There'll be cake and ice cream, and of course presents. And we'll sing "Happy Birthday" to him. And I will cry. Just like I cry every year with Evan. But Zach? This is hitting me even harder. Maybe it is because I'm getting older. Maybe it is because we always assumed Evan was to be the only child and Zach seems even more of a gift because of it. And more than anything, I don't ever want that gift to leave me. Having an older child has shown me just how quickly it all goes by. And so while this is the first birthday of many, I know that 2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9.....that they will all whirr by me in rapid succession. The tee with the blue one on it for that day and then the next day he is wearing a cap and gown, or a tux for his wedding. And even then, it will still have been just yesterday.

Just yesterday that I felt the last of those horrendous contractions and I begged the NICU staff to bring him to me. Just yesterday that the days of new babyhood flashed in a blur of home and togetherness and cuddles. Just yesterday that I held him on my chest and cried from his beauty.

So today, Zach is 10 months old. For 10 months, my very soul has existed outside of my body. For ten months, I have witnessed a miracle daily. And I won't bore you with milestones reached or new things he is doing, other than to tell you that we swear he said "Bubby" the other day, which is what we call Evan. This was the first time he made a consonant sound, and so now we know he is okay. Everything has fallen into place. He has escaped the debaucle of his pregnancy and premature birth literally unscathed, making him even more of a miracle.

2 months left of his first year...

I have loved being this little boy's mother. I cannot believe that he was not always a part of the plan. John is my heart. Evan has been my life and my breath. But Zach? Zach is my soul.

9 Months

Today, my Zach is 9 months old. I cannot believe we are 3/4ths of the way through his first year. Gah!
He is still working on that first tooth. Just when I think I am going to have to pay professionals to surgically help him, he shows me, once again, that he will do it all in his own time. Yesterday, when I felt his gum with my finger, it felt like it might be breaking through finally. I went to check the progress this morning and he puckered his lips and shook his head as if to say, "No way, Lady." So I have no more progress to update than that.
Speaking of "when he woke up this morning",I went into his room and gasped in horror. He was laying face down. The plan was to peek in and check on him without waking, but the position he was in freaked me out so badly that I instantly reached down and poked him to make sure he was breathing. His entire upper body was out of the swaddler and he had rolled over to get into a comfy position for him. Too bad it is a position that completely scares the crap out of me. The risk of SIDS is supposed to be virtually nonexistent after 6 months, so just when I think we are in the clear, I remind myself that Zach is almost 2 months younger than his chronologic age. So up until now, he has still been swaddled in order to sleep. This morning changed that, I think. Of course whether or not he will sleep without the swaddler remains to be seen. There may be some rough, sleep-deprived waters in our near future.
He has started to do some major catching up in the past month. Pulling himself up about three quarters of the way. Graduating to the big boy carseat. Really, truly sitting up. Transitioning from a prone position to sitting. His cognitive skills are great. When he's sitting in front of you and you clap your hands, his little face lights up and he takes over for you, using his hands to clap yours. Yesterday, John was singing the Pat-a-Cake song to him and Zach was doing all of the motions for John using John's hands. He'll pick up his binky or bottle and try to put it in my mouth, his version of sharing. If he gets ahold of my glasses, he'll try to put them on his own face, because, hey, that's where they go, right? Right now, we're working on the finer points: his ring stack; blocks; nesting cups; the concepts of in/out, over/under, etc. I bought him a set of these large soft blocks and have been working with him on how to build stacks, and he knocks them down, squeals with delight, and throws them at me. Oh, well. We'll get there. Thankfully,I bought the soft blocks...
Zach has quite the little personality. When I was at BRU buying the carseat and lightweight stroller this past month, it became apparent that I would be needing a new Floppy Seat. Ours was actually fitted to a cart with no elastic and was too complex for words. As a result, it remains on Zach's closet shelf, unused. We bought the actual brand Floppy Seat instead and since he now is out of the infant carseat, it goes with us to stores so Zach can sit in the shopping cart. And he does. He perches like a little prince and stares at everything and everyone. Shopping takes twice as long because he is way more visibile now and with his chubby, rosy cheeks, he looks like the fricken Gerber baby. So random strangers stop us over and over, and of course social Zach smiles and coos and babbles at them, and so they talk to him even longer. And in case someone doesn't notice him, he will let out a yell until they do, and then laugh and smile when they look his way, and the above process starts. Evan was like this, too. For some reason, my children have no concept of stranger anxiety and would be easy as pie for a pedophile/kidnapper/axe murderer to snatch.
He eats well, too. That's no shock if you've seen pics of him. We've yet to have any food challenges. Well, unless you count the fact that anything thicker than pudding gags him. I think this is more of a developmental thing and will pass. He doesn't like veggies though. Feeding him has gotten just a tad more difficult in that he insists on trying to help. He's also very interested in our food, our drinks. And I doubt that, no matter how creative I get with rationalizations, I can fit my Diet Mt. Dew into the all natural diet I have created for him. This is probably the greatest source of frustration because no matter how much he wants to try our stuff, he has the GI system of a 7 month old and so I know he isn't ready to handle it yet.
All-in-all, he's still an absoute joy. I keep waiting to hit a rough patch or a challenge and we never do. Teething hasn't phased him. Solid foods hasn't. Sleep never did. Where did this easy, happy baby come from? We haven't encountered an ear infection, a cold, a runny nose. He's not been sick once. Even with baby-proofing the house! I can be more laid-back with Zach because if he starts to go after something we don't want him to, all we have to do is say, "No, Zachy", and redirect him, and he is fine with it. I couldn't do any of this with Evan, who was hell on wheels.
So there you have it. The plan for the next month is to have his pics taken and start to plan for his birthday. Both are going to be big operations because last time we visited the photographer, we did pics of just Zach. I was thinking we need new pics of Evan as well this time when John informed me he also wants family portraits. Meaning I have to be in the shots, too. And I am the least photogenic person in the world, so I dread it. And for his birthday, we are thinking of going down to John's mom's to have his birthday party, which requires planning and requests for days off. His first birthday. I cannot believe it will be here that soon.
In closing, here are some pics, starting with an atrocious one of me with Zach as we slept on the living room floor after I got home from work one morning. Of course, John had to get out the camera.

Zach's Week in Pics

Nothing special about this one (other than an illustration of the fauxhawk I described in a previous post) . This was tonight. It seems he has grown in leaps and bounds just in the past 2 weeks or so. He's proven to me that preemie or not, he will do everything in his own time. And that whatever time that may be, it will be just fine. And normal. And healthy. This child, just like Evan, is such a joy in my life. Who could've guessed my heart could hold so much?

Crawling now. Really crawling.

Ahhhhh, Goodnight Moon. It never gets old. This past week, Zach showed us he has inherited Mommy's love of books.

Gah! And with just one look at this, my heart dissolves.

Two fabulous words: Teething Biscuits. These are Earth's Best organic whole wheat ones.

Bathtime has gotten so much more fun now that he is a more confident sitter. Yesterday,he completely drenched me with his playful splashes.

And this one. In his bedroom,with John kneeling on the floor beside him, playing. And John gasps, "Andrea, look!" And I do. And I see this. After worrying and fretting about his perceived delays. Zachy sits. With no help. Without faltering. This is motherhood. The joys of an aced exam, the feeling after a successful resuscitation at work...All of these and more were reluctantly traded in to bring this little boy into the world so I could have this experience with him. And it was all so worth it.

The Idiots are to Blame

The entire family headed out the other night to complete some errands. Most of these revolved around the ever-growing Zach. He's getting too big and too squirrely for his infant bathtub. He's just too heavy for me to lift in the infant carseat, despite the fact that it is supposed to accomodate up to 35 pounds. The weight of the seat plus the weight of The Chunk is just too much. He, of course, needs bigger clothes. And his changing diet means we need to bite the bullet and buy a highchair. So we head to BRU. Yeah. I hate that place because I usually come out with all sorts of things we did not need but were cool or cute and thus I spend a ton in there.
So we get the Big Boy Carseat. Not an easy task, considering there is limited space and carseats these days look like giant captain's chairs. Seriously. (There will be an entire post on this, trust me.)Then we head for the highchairs. I intended on buying the real deal, but then found the space-saving Fisher Price model. I love it, Zach loves it. Done.
But then we get to the trouble of the evening. (C'mon, you know my family cannot possibly leave the house without some sort of issue.) I needed a bath seat for Zach. After doing some research, and with our experience last night, it has dawned on me that you may have no fricken clue of what I am speaking. The thing is, Zach is now trying to sit up in the reclining baby bathtub. And trying to roll over. And he is still just a little too topsy-turvy for me to sit him in a tub of water with no safety net other than my hands, when he is all slippery with soap/ shampoo. Nope. Not gonna happen. And so after some searching, John goes and asks for help. And the salesgirl looks at him like he's special and says, "Just use the Bumbo!" I'm sure she wanted to add a "Duh" on the end of that, but thought better of it. And I wonder if she has ever bathed a baby in a Bumbo. First of all, I did this at John's mom's house simply because I didn't want to have to take anymore stuff, so the Bumbo served as highchair, bathseat, and more. But the Bumbo floats. No. Plus, I wonder if she has ever tried to wash little boy junk in that seat. There is no access, and what ended up happening was Zach's Twig and Giggleberries ended up wedged between his pelvis and the little part that comes up between his legs. My future as a grandmother may rest entirely on Evan's shoulders after the experience. So no, Snotty BRU Chick, we need a real bath seat.
After 2 days of searching every retail establishment in our area with "Baby" in the name, followed by every Wal-Mart, Target, and more, we never found one and I ended up buying this inflatable tub that looks like a giant rubber duck for the low, low price of $12. Zach can sit up in it, but every direction he could possibly topple, there with be a soft surface stopping him for face-planting in water, lessening the likelihood of pesky water-filled lungs. Just when I am thinking there was a mad rush on baby bath seats in the area, I get the bright idea to just look it up on the computer. I did find a few seats, but you want to be sure that the seat you choose actually fits your kid well or it becomes a safety hazard. Therefore, this is something I wanted to buy locally.
So what else did I find out? Well, that in the 8.5 years between my kiddos, the idiots once again ruined it for the rest of us. That the seats are hard to find and that all but a few manufacturers stopped making them. Seems they provided a false sense of security, and that you really can't just leave your baby alone in the tub with your bath seat. That the kid can still drown. C'mon, really people? Seriously? And so Zach gets the big rubber ducky thingamajig.

Is There a Degree for That???

So the story starts out with Curious George. His wife is feeding the baby, but there are errands to run (bathseat!) and so the wife tells Curious Gearge to go and take the base for the infant carseat out of the car and put the Big Boy carseat in there in the rear-facing position, because The Chunk is not a year old yet! It should be simple. The anchor doesn't need to be used because of the rear-facing thing, and the LATCH system makes it easy. But time passes. Zach finishes his apples and bananas. He finishes 5 ounces of breastmilk. I have pumped. No John.

I am just about to go and check on him when he comes, huffing and puffing, through the door with beads of sweat on his forehead. And he is pissed. And he tells me that everything is basically some form of shit or another. My car, the LATCH system, the carseat we chose....And then he tells me he needs my help. And so I go. In the shorts and tee I had on. In 27-degree-weather. The LATCH is about half an inch from latching. It won't reach. And so I put all of my weight into, pushing it toward the seat back, while John uses all of his upper body strength to try to get it latched. Both of us keep taking breaks because we are straining so hard. And we give up. We think that maybe, since Zach is 20 lbs. now, that it will be okay to face him forward, and when we turn it around, the carseat installs like a dream.

But I know it can't be right. And so I think to myself that our fire departments do checks on carseat installation, and so I call them.

And I spoke to a real-life Carseat Technician. Seriously. What are the education requirements for that, exactly?

But we ended up having him install the seat for us. And I am glad I did. The safety features of my car made it difficult, even though they were supposed to make it easier. He spent the better part of an hour working on getting it in there. And when the manual said it shouldn't move more than an inch in any direction, he made sure. He'd wiggle, then get out a ruler. Wiggle, ruler...on and on. It really was hialrious. Zach has got to be the safest baby in the world right now.

So the moral of the story is to check your local fire department. You may have a highly skilled carseat technician in your area!

Unsupported

Zachy finally did it, and of course I had a camera in his face to capture the moment. Then I looked and realized what a perfect example of parenthood this is, because you can see my hand hovering behind his back, ready to catch him if he should fall. One day I won't be able to do that. And then I focused in on his face. That sweet Angel Face. My baby's growing up.

Flashback Friday

I was clearing the computer of some old files and found some pics of the boys I absolutely love. My babies. So I thought I would share. The first is Zach at 7 weeks old, before his face had grown to match his big eyes.

This is the Rocker pose. That hair! Nothing we could docould tame it. And the little shirt he had on just added to it. He was about 4 months old here, I think.

And this one. I could have squeezed him to pieces, I think. This is when we learned that in order to sleep well, he must be swaddled. Incidentally, I recently made a run for big baby swaddlers when he suddenly outgrew these!

And my Evan. My rotten little boy. Here he was 5 and had just finished kindergarten. We were at Holiday World in Santa Claus, Indiana.

I think he got these glasses in a kids meal. But despite the classes and the face he is making, I am still drawn most to those chocolate eyes when I look at this pic. And I continue to do so each and everytime I look at him.

Gentle Boy. Evan at 6, the summer after first grade, right before we moved back to the Cincinnati area.
I had just received medical clearance from the diagnosis of a benign brain tumor, and Evan had had a rough year. This was a stray cat he took care of out there, and his soft heart leaps at me from the pic.

7 Months,Almost

Tomorrow night, I start a very long work week and don't know when I will be able to post anything. But on Monday, Zachy will be 7 months old. So where are we?

Well, he's teething. He has been, sort of, before now. Now he really is. Drooling. Gnawing on his fingers, my fingers, any type of cloth he can get into his mouth. Today he was taking the little Avent teether and rubbing it against his gums so vigorously that it was making little squeaking sounds. Here he is with those yummy fingers!

He's still short. 23 1/4 inches long. The walker, Baby Einstein jumpy thing, the Johnny Jump-Up...these are just a few of the activity/entertainer thingies I have bought or borrowed that do not allow his feet to touch the floor. We finally found something though: Bright Starts' Around-We-Go entertainer. Santa brought it for him, but it's too large to wrap and so it is assembled and put to use. He loves it, we love it, and his feet touch the floor. Here he is in it, with the seat turned around so he can see us.

I don't think he'll ever crawl! I don't think he has any interest in it, to tell the truth. He will get up on all fours, rock a bit, then topple over on his side. Instead of trying again, he just rolls and scoots to wherever he wants to go. He got pretty quick with it, too. In the blink of an eye, he is all the way across the room. I'm betting he will be one of those babies who never crawl and go straight to walking.

He's still the happiest, easiest baby in the world. I keep waiting for him to hit a fussy spell and it never happens. The teething thing is getting to him a bit, so I know he's human, but not even that is very bad. Here he is letting us know his gums hurt.

He loves 'nanas and peaches. I have yet to find a veggie he will eat without spraying me with it by blowing raspberries. Peas and sweet potatoes both gagged him. Cereal is still a gigantic no-no. He hates it! And yes, I'm still making his food. He still gets about 5 bottles of breastmilk a day, and a bottle or two of formula a day. I cannot believe I've kept it up this long. 5 more months until I reach my goal of 1 year!

The beloved bouncy seat is on the verge of retirement. He keeps trying to sit up in it. Well, not really trying--he actually does unless one of us is sitting there actively bouncing him in it. The result is that he will kind of flip out of it, dangling by the safety straps which scares me.

After Christmas, I am going to buy his big-boy carseat. ( After Christmas because A: the one I want is pretty expensive and Christmas has wiped me out, and B: I asked for BRU giftcards from Santa, and if I get them, they will help me cover the expense.) He is now 19 pounds and the weight of the infant carseat with him in it is getting to be too much. It would have been fine if we would've left him in the original one (Graco SnugRide) that came with our travel system , but we upgraded when he was 3 or 4 months old to the one that accomodates babies up to 35 pounds (SnugRide 35) in the same pattern, and it weighs a ton. Of course this gets me all excited! I can get rid of the bulky travel system stroller and replace it with a lighter one, then we can just use it or the Ergo when we go out. My trunk will thank us! And for the first time since May, I be able to fit both groceries and the stroller in the car at the same time. Of course this prolongs the dreaded transition to minivan I was afraid we would have to make. I am so not ready for the minivan phase of my life.

He babbles and it is so cute. Ba-ba-ba. Da-da-da, Ga-ga-ga! I love listening to it. What do I not like hearing? The scream he has mastered and uses whenever he gets pissed!

Last week, we had to take him for his first ever sick-child appointment. He was wheezing all day last Sunday.I noticed it would improve, but each time he would spit up, it would start again. He hardly ever spits up, but that day, he got his usual diet in reverse: only 2 bottles of breastmilk and 5 bottles of formula. I had underestimated and froze too much the day before. And he spit up a ton that day. The culprit, we think, is reflux. Breastmilk is just gentler on his tummy, so we ever noticed it before. Reflux is pretty common in preemies, so I'm not alarmed. The doc was going to put him on nebulizer treatments, but I insisted on an inhaler with a masked spacer. Because I'm a RT, he gave in. We've only used it once since then.

I guess that's all I have to report. More at 8 months!