We're only two days into six months, but I have to say, this age has been great so far. It's almost like something magical happened on the night of February 17th. The little fairies that sprinkle sleepy-dust on babies must have visited our house, because by the morning of the 18th, Scotty went down for a lovely morning nap at 9am on the dot. He proceeded to sleep for the next two GLORIOUS hours. He then woke up happy and smiley, and promptly went back to sleep around 1:30pm and slept for another two hours. He was in bed no later than 6:30pm. Repeat that entire day on the 19th, but add in a FULL TWELVE HOURS of sleeping at night, and you can imagine why I am whistling this morning.
Really? Is it this easy? After fighting and fighting and fighting with this child to sleep during the day, did I actually win? Please go knock on a piece of wood right now for me, to continue our good fortune. Maybe it's a phase (I'm slowly learning there is no such thing as a 'pattern' in Motherhood; just random variations on the same theme), maybe it's not, but whatever it is, it's heavenly.
The Bear had his six-month visit with Dr. Awesome yesterday who commented, "Really? It's only been six months? I feel like it's been so much longer..." I agreed with her. After all, I feel like I'm in her office weekly, but again, it's better to be safe than sorry. After our whole NICU experience, I will never again just 'assume' anything about Motherhood.
The little fellow weighed in at 21lb, 8oz, is 28.25 inches long, and his head is 18.5 inches around. That places him above the 95%ile on all three charts, making me very pleased. What is really interesting, however, is that he is eating significanly less during the day, and this has continued for the last two weeks. He went from about 28 -35oz of milk per day to only 21-25oz per day. This drop, per Dr. Awesome, is likely due to teething and is nothing to worry about. He certainly is not losing weight, and she assured us that his weight gain will start to slow down over the next six months. Fine with us. The little tyke is bursting out of his 9 mo pajamas, so I'm happy to know he won't be in 2T in the next like, four minutes.
Bear on his six-month birthday:
Really? Is it this easy? After fighting and fighting and fighting with this child to sleep during the day, did I actually win? Please go knock on a piece of wood right now for me, to continue our good fortune. Maybe it's a phase (I'm slowly learning there is no such thing as a 'pattern' in Motherhood; just random variations on the same theme), maybe it's not, but whatever it is, it's heavenly.
The Bear had his six-month visit with Dr. Awesome yesterday who commented, "Really? It's only been six months? I feel like it's been so much longer..." I agreed with her. After all, I feel like I'm in her office weekly, but again, it's better to be safe than sorry. After our whole NICU experience, I will never again just 'assume' anything about Motherhood.
The little fellow weighed in at 21lb, 8oz, is 28.25 inches long, and his head is 18.5 inches around. That places him above the 95%ile on all three charts, making me very pleased. What is really interesting, however, is that he is eating significanly less during the day, and this has continued for the last two weeks. He went from about 28 -35oz of milk per day to only 21-25oz per day. This drop, per Dr. Awesome, is likely due to teething and is nothing to worry about. He certainly is not losing weight, and she assured us that his weight gain will start to slow down over the next six months. Fine with us. The little tyke is bursting out of his 9 mo pajamas, so I'm happy to know he won't be in 2T in the next like, four minutes.
Bear on his six-month birthday:
Growing Bear
(the white onesie is for Jen, mom to Rowan. She loves nothing more than a baby in an all-white onesie.)
On the feeding front, there are two big changes happening...
Scotty starts real food today! (yes, salads or solids, depending on your accent and regional dialect). We've been practicing with rice cereal all week and he's done a great job. I am really loving lunch time these days; Scotty sits in his high chair, I sit at the table eating my turkey sandwich, and he looks at my sandwich longingly. One day, he'll get a bite. But not quite yet.
So I've been deep in thought for the past two weeks as to what would be the right first food...lots of discussion, reading, and researching, and we finally have a winner. Drumroll please....please give a warm round of applause to....THE AVOCADO! Yes, everyone's favorite fruit/vegatable, chock full of vitamins and healthy fat (gotta mylinate those neural pathways) is the winner. I love this on two levels: 1.) it's healthy and super easy to prepare (I plan to mash it to within an inch of its life, then mix in a little breastmilk to thin it) and 2.) it just screams West Coast. Despite Brian's and my Midwestern roots, I have to keep reminding myself that we are raising a little West Coast baby. I'm happy to offer him something that has wonderful childhood memories for me (eating avocados on bread during dinner - 'sailor's butter' - was always such a treat in our household) as well as it somewhat local (grown just next door in California). Dr. Awesome also strongly encouraged us to start with green food (avocado, sweet peas, zucchini), move to orange foods (carrots, yams, winter quash) and then introduce sweeter, white food (apples, pears, bananas). I love this logic (color-coded!). I've been frequenting Whole Foods quite a bit lately, trying to scope out some lovely produce and I can't wait to get Scotty started. Pictures to follow!
And then the other big news is that I'm weaning. I'm not sure if I'm weaning Scotty or myself from my breast pump, but whatever it is, it's great. This decision was made several weeks ago when it looked like we were going to be moving soon. I feel like I talk about this all the freaking time, but I AM SO SICK OF PUMPING. Hate it, hate it, hate it. But I believe in the properties and benefits of breastmilk, so it was a sacrifice I was willing to make. Well, I made it and I hit my goal of six months and now I'm ready to pack up the breast pump for good. Every time I tell someone about this (another mother), they always make the sound of the pump - shoo-ah-shoo-ah-shoo - at me. Too funny. Thank you. That noise will be stuck in my head for the rest of my life.
I'm down to pumping only three times per day and it is WONDERFUL. More time with the Bear, less time pumping, and less time washing bottles. I literally went from washing bottles six times a day to only washing two to three times per day. I feel like I have a life again. What is really interesting, too, is that because Scotty is eating less, he is still getting almost all breast milk, still, despite my fewer pumps. I could make a "Jesus and the fish and loaves" analogy, but I don't want to offend any readers, but that's really how I feel. I'm pumping less, yet every time I go to the fridge to heat up more milk, there are several bags in there. Like magic. I haven't even touched my frozen supply, so I'm hopeful Scotty will be getting the good stuff well into his seventh month.
So yeah, we're all feeling pretty good these days. Brian even came home early on Thursday for Scotty's half-birthday, and getting him out of the office early is nothing short of a miracle. He had gone to Toys-R-Us during lunchtime and came home with all kinds of goodies for the little Birthday Bear; a turtle for the bath tub, a ball that rolls around and sings, and a little fuzzy blue puppy blanket. I don't know who was more excited, Brian or the Bear, but it was awfully cute to watch. Brian and Scotty have some kind of special bond that I can't touch; the Bear lights up when Brian walks in the room, and Brian does the same. They are like two little peas in a pod. So, so cute. I'm just like the assistant or something. (that's fine...)
As you can probably glean from the content of my posts, everyone's mood had just been great lately. I think a lot of this has to do with the weather in Vegas, too. When it is 70 and sunny, it's hard to be in a bad mood. Here are some pictures from a recent park visit:
On the feeding front, there are two big changes happening...
Scotty starts real food today! (yes, salads or solids, depending on your accent and regional dialect). We've been practicing with rice cereal all week and he's done a great job. I am really loving lunch time these days; Scotty sits in his high chair, I sit at the table eating my turkey sandwich, and he looks at my sandwich longingly. One day, he'll get a bite. But not quite yet.
So I've been deep in thought for the past two weeks as to what would be the right first food...lots of discussion, reading, and researching, and we finally have a winner. Drumroll please....please give a warm round of applause to....THE AVOCADO! Yes, everyone's favorite fruit/vegatable, chock full of vitamins and healthy fat (gotta mylinate those neural pathways) is the winner. I love this on two levels: 1.) it's healthy and super easy to prepare (I plan to mash it to within an inch of its life, then mix in a little breastmilk to thin it) and 2.) it just screams West Coast. Despite Brian's and my Midwestern roots, I have to keep reminding myself that we are raising a little West Coast baby. I'm happy to offer him something that has wonderful childhood memories for me (eating avocados on bread during dinner - 'sailor's butter' - was always such a treat in our household) as well as it somewhat local (grown just next door in California). Dr. Awesome also strongly encouraged us to start with green food (avocado, sweet peas, zucchini), move to orange foods (carrots, yams, winter quash) and then introduce sweeter, white food (apples, pears, bananas). I love this logic (color-coded!). I've been frequenting Whole Foods quite a bit lately, trying to scope out some lovely produce and I can't wait to get Scotty started. Pictures to follow!
And then the other big news is that I'm weaning. I'm not sure if I'm weaning Scotty or myself from my breast pump, but whatever it is, it's great. This decision was made several weeks ago when it looked like we were going to be moving soon. I feel like I talk about this all the freaking time, but I AM SO SICK OF PUMPING. Hate it, hate it, hate it. But I believe in the properties and benefits of breastmilk, so it was a sacrifice I was willing to make. Well, I made it and I hit my goal of six months and now I'm ready to pack up the breast pump for good. Every time I tell someone about this (another mother), they always make the sound of the pump - shoo-ah-shoo-ah-shoo - at me. Too funny. Thank you. That noise will be stuck in my head for the rest of my life.
I'm down to pumping only three times per day and it is WONDERFUL. More time with the Bear, less time pumping, and less time washing bottles. I literally went from washing bottles six times a day to only washing two to three times per day. I feel like I have a life again. What is really interesting, too, is that because Scotty is eating less, he is still getting almost all breast milk, still, despite my fewer pumps. I could make a "Jesus and the fish and loaves" analogy, but I don't want to offend any readers, but that's really how I feel. I'm pumping less, yet every time I go to the fridge to heat up more milk, there are several bags in there. Like magic. I haven't even touched my frozen supply, so I'm hopeful Scotty will be getting the good stuff well into his seventh month.
So yeah, we're all feeling pretty good these days. Brian even came home early on Thursday for Scotty's half-birthday, and getting him out of the office early is nothing short of a miracle. He had gone to Toys-R-Us during lunchtime and came home with all kinds of goodies for the little Birthday Bear; a turtle for the bath tub, a ball that rolls around and sings, and a little fuzzy blue puppy blanket. I don't know who was more excited, Brian or the Bear, but it was awfully cute to watch. Brian and Scotty have some kind of special bond that I can't touch; the Bear lights up when Brian walks in the room, and Brian does the same. They are like two little peas in a pod. So, so cute. I'm just like the assistant or something. (that's fine...)
As you can probably glean from the content of my posts, everyone's mood had just been great lately. I think a lot of this has to do with the weather in Vegas, too. When it is 70 and sunny, it's hard to be in a bad mood. Here are some pictures from a recent park visit:
This is what February looks like in Las Vegas
Come here often?
Finally, I just want to end on a story that I like to call 'Good Therapuetic Skills Die Hard.' I guess once a therapist, always a therapist.
I was at the car wash on Thursday when one of the attendants informed me that I had a crack in my windshield. It was one of those teeny-tiny ones that they can fix on the spot but they need to call your insurance first. I consented and gave them my insurance card and they asked me to step into the back office. The woman in charge had to call our insurance, and it turns out the insurance rep wanted to just verify some details with me before she submitted the claim to be processed.
I picked up the phone and we chatted for a few moments. She then launched into her questions. Could I verify my birthday and zip code, please? When did the accident happen? What was the chip from? Then she asked me, "What state were you in?" I paused for a second. Really? What an interesting question, I thought. "Well," I started, "I was alert. Tired, probably, since my child doesn't sleep that much, but I was awake." There was this long silence on her end. "No, ma'am," she said. "What STATE were you in when the accident happened? California? Nevada?"
Doh.
We both had a good laugh. Needless to say, she wasn't looking for my mental state, just my state of residence. Old habits die hard. :-)
I was at the car wash on Thursday when one of the attendants informed me that I had a crack in my windshield. It was one of those teeny-tiny ones that they can fix on the spot but they need to call your insurance first. I consented and gave them my insurance card and they asked me to step into the back office. The woman in charge had to call our insurance, and it turns out the insurance rep wanted to just verify some details with me before she submitted the claim to be processed.
I picked up the phone and we chatted for a few moments. She then launched into her questions. Could I verify my birthday and zip code, please? When did the accident happen? What was the chip from? Then she asked me, "What state were you in?" I paused for a second. Really? What an interesting question, I thought. "Well," I started, "I was alert. Tired, probably, since my child doesn't sleep that much, but I was awake." There was this long silence on her end. "No, ma'am," she said. "What STATE were you in when the accident happened? California? Nevada?"
Doh.
We both had a good laugh. Needless to say, she wasn't looking for my mental state, just my state of residence. Old habits die hard. :-)
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