Hi Punky,


It's your 14th month birthday today.


Fourteen months. Wow. Hard to believe. I've spent most of this evening looking at pictures of you over these past 14 months and on the one hand it seems like it was forever ago already that you were a little baby, but on the other hand...it was just yesterday. Funny how time works.


You started walking-walking (that is, "really" walking) this past month. After what? a month of faking us out, November 20th you just sort of took off walking. You're little drunken wobble is so cute! I refer to you as Babe-zilla, for obvious reasons.

What else has gone on?

Well, for one, we (the American voting citizens) have elected the first black president. Barack Obama. (I hope I'm spelling his name correctly--I'm not checking right now.) We'd actually already done that when I wrote last time, I just failed to report it somehow. It's pretty big stuff, really. Historic. And you can say you were there.

Your vocabulary continues to increase. You mimic a lot of words now. Some recent additions include "the end", "peekaboo", "growl!", "light", "push", "juice", "milk", "papa", and there are others that I just can't think of right now.

You had your first real cold this past month. You were sick on Thanksgiving. Bad cough, low-grade fever, snotty nose. Your nose was so stopped up that you couldn't suck your thumb. Doc said you had an ear infection and gave you some antibiotics. Two weeks later and you're finally, completely, over it. I guess I should feel lucky that it took you 13 months to really get sick at all, but I felt so badly for you...I don't want you to ever have to be sick.

Papa is talking to me right now and I can't concentrate on this, so I'll say TTFN for now. See you next month!!

I love you.

Yours,
Mommy

Dear Benjamin,

You're 13 months old today!

You're still working at walking. You can walk. Short distances. One to eight steps, max. But you can't walk-walk, yet. I am trying not to be concerned. William and Lizzie walked early (between eight and ten months), so naturally I assumed you'd be walking within that same period, but that's what Mom gets for assuming. You obviously have your own schedule that has nothing to do with your brother's or sister's, and I simply need to learn to accept it. I'm working on acceptance. You're working on walking. I'm guessing that we'll each find ourselves wondering what all the hoopla was about soon enough.

I don't think I told you last time all the funny and wonderful things you've been doing between your 11th month and now, so I'll do so now: You love lights. Love them. You love to stare at them. To turn them. Turn them off. Turn them off and on and off and on. You simply adore lights. Lamps. Ceiling lights. Yard lights. Decorative lights. Doesn't matter to you. If it glows, you like it. I'm not sure if this means anything at all, but I have to wonder if you're going to grow up to be an electrician, or maybe a roadie. Are pyrotechnics in your future? I can't wait to find out! In the meantime, everytime you turn on or off a light in the house, the grin you grin could rival the power of the Hoover Dam. I love watching you.

You also love vroom-vrooms. Cars, trains, tractors, planes. Anything that might potentially make a "vroom-vroom" sound is great to you. You love to "vroom-vroom" your toy vehicles around the house. And you especially like to ride in the Radio Flyer car we bought you for your birthday. Oh, and Papa took you to the airport one day while I was at work so that you could watch the planes take off. As I understand it, you laughed heartily when the planes ascended into the sky. While I may never appreciate the male fascination with all things fast and furious, I do understand that this is the way it works sometimes and that you, my boy, have such a fascination and I thoroughly enjoy seeing you enjoy all your vroom-vrooms.

Well, it's late and I'm sleepy, so I'm going to wrap this up for now. I'd love to be able to find the time to tell you what's going on with you on a daily basis. I think about doing so often...only life gets in the way. You keep me busy. Work keeps me busy. Your sister and brother keep me busy. I'll try to do better.

In the meantime, please know that I'm having the time of my life watching you grow. You fascinate me. I love you completely.

Yours forever!
Mommy

Dear Benjamin,

Happy Birthday!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Today is THE day! Your first birthday! Yay!

You started the day by waking around...6? 6:30? You played in your crib until roughly 7:15. Because today is daddy's sleep-in day (Technically it's his day...depending upon my Friday, sometimes it's my day), I got you out of bed myself. (Generally, your wake up routine involves both of us, because neither of us can stand not being there, but on weekends, when we're both completely hungover from a week of sleep-deprivation, we're willing to forego a wakening in exchange for a few extra hours in bed.)

I came into your room singing "Happy Birthday," which of course you didn't recognize because it's never been sung to you before, so you merely greeted the day the same way you always do, which is by holding onto the rails of your crib and bouncing. You're such a morning baby! You obviously take after your father this way.

Anyway. . .

After a lot of bouncing and opening of blinds and saying good morning to the front yard, and to the neighborhood, I changed your diaper. (It was messy.) Then we headed to the kitchen for breakfast. You ate oatmeal and pears in a jar, some chopped banana (your favorite!), and then washed it all down with a sippy cup of milk.

Then we played in your room. You squeaked your crocodile at me (actually, I think it's an alligator, but because of the comic, Pearls Before Swine, all green, dragon-like animals will forever be referred to as crocodiles), we vroom-vroomed some cars, you toppled several of my towers, and we counted ladybugs. Ad nauseum. (Not that I'm complaining, mind you.)

Around 8:30? 9:00? we made our way out to the kitchen because I was in desperate need of coffee. Papa woke up about that time and came out to join us.

Between that time and...say...noon-thirty everything is a blur. I left you with papa at some point so that your Sissy and I could go pick up your cake and run by the grocery store for other things that I needed for your party. I returned home around. . .12:30-ish, I guess. I fed you lunch. I put you to bed for a nap. You didn't nap. Brother William showed up. Guests were due to arrive. I decided you should be gotten up. William and Lizzie got you out of bed.

Aunt Liz arrived.

Brother Alex and his fiance, Nikki, showed up.

From that point, people continued to arrive. Eventually we had in attendance (in addition to the people already named), Peepa, Nana, Grandma Lovick, Aldert, Rayna, Dennis, Lance, Gavin, Willa, Shaile, Morgan, Shanan, Amy, and Nathan.

We sang you happy birthday. You had your very own cake, which at first you were reluctant to even touch, but once you stuck a finger into the sugar-laden icing and tasted it, you were hooked! You smeared it everywear! You were on a veritable sugar high by the time I rescued you and dunked you into the bathtub.

After your bath, we opened presents. You received a ton (at least!) of them! Mainly toys. Of course, you were much more interested in the tissue paper than the actual toy contained therein.

Eventually, the crowd subsided and you readily--gladly--went down for a nap in the cool comfort of your crib.

When you awoke, we dressed you and hauled you out to the car so that you could attend your second birthday party of the day--the one you shared with your great-grandmother at Robinwood (in Wendell).

Aunt Liz gave you three more presents there. One of which was a Jack in the Box, with which Mommy managed to scare the bejeezus out of you. (I'm sorry!)

Because it was late by the time we got there (6 p.m.), we didn't stay long after the present opening ceremony (Grandma's, not yours). We ran by the grocery store (a.k.a. the banana shop) on the way home so that we had something to eat in the house besides cake. By the time we got to the house it was 8:30 p.m. You were exhausted. I put you in your PJs and read you a book and put you to bed.

What a day!

What a wonderful, wonderful day!

Your first birthday!

My how the time does fly. . .

I love you. So much. I love you sooooooooo much. I love you!

Happy Birthday!!!!!!

It's September 11th.

HAPPY ELEVEN MONTHS OLD!!!

This past month you've:

Begun to communicate. Banana remains a favorite word. We've decided it means both "I would like something to eat" and "Gimme BANANA!" The word "no" also remains a favorite. Everything is "no."

Benajmin, would you like to play in your room? No! Benjamin, would you like to go for a walk? No! Benjamin, do you think the price of oil is too high? No!

We've decided that you belong to the order of the Babies Who Say "No!" (It's a Monty Python thing, we'll explain it to you later.)

You can show us your ears and your fingers and your teeth. And if asked what the sheep says you will respond with "baa." Of course, this is also what the cat and the dog says.

You like baths and, as with the sheep, will say "baa" when brought into the bathroom.

You say "mama" when you see me. Of course, you sometimes say "mama" when you see your sister or your aunt. But you're consistent when it comes to me. (Or at least I like to think so.)

We took you to Pullen Park for the first time this past month. You enjoyed the swing, as well as feeding the ducks. We also took you to Hillridge Farm in Youngsville, where you got to see goats, a sheep, some chickens, ducks, the giant catfish, and a turtle.

You've become extremely adept at pulling up. And you've stood on your own a few times, though not for too long. No signs of walking yet, but you do cruise when you have an opportunity. And truth be told I'm in no hurry for you to walk. I am happy for you to remain a baby as long as you want to or need to.

It's hard to believe that soon we'll be celebrating your first year. It's trite, I know, but honestly, it does seem like just yesterday you were born, and here we are already, a year down the road.

I enjoy every moment of time I have with you, and every little milestone you reach fascinates and amazes me.

I love you.

I promise to try and post more here this next month.

Much love and kisses and hugs and giggles and tickles, etc.,

Mommy

Sweetie Boy!


Guess what? You're 10 months old!!!

As of yesterday.


Mom's really sorry, she feels so badly about not updating the blog on the actual date of your 'birthday.' But I remembered after I was in bed last night and although I was going to get up and do it then, I was ever so tired. So Papa convinced me that you'd forgive me, and I stayed in bed.


But I'm updating now, and oh boy, do I have some updates!


This past month you:

• Started pulling up on things. You can now pull yourself up on anything stationary, without any help at all.
• Started growing a new tooth on top--the one to the left (your left) of your top front two teeth.
• Began saying "ball" and "mama" and "dog" and "no" and "dada" to mean those specific things.
• You're beginning to identify things in your books, as well as in your room. (E.g. if we ask you to find the ball, you go get the ball. Or when I ask you "Where's the mouse" in your bedtime book [which is Goodnight Moon], you point to the mouse.)
• You went on your first road trip and your first camping trip. You spent nearly six hours in the van on the way to Clifftop, WV, where you camped with us at a music festival where Papa vends each year. You did so well! Much better than Mom ever expected. In fact, had the camper not broken down, Mom probably would have had nothing at all to complain about the entire trip. But, as luck would have it, the camper did break down, and Mom had tons to gripe about the entire trip.
• You had your first playground experience. Just yesterday Sissy and I took you to the Wendell park to swing on the swings, slide down the slide, and play in the sand. You had a great time. You ate sand! You loved it!
• You have switched from formula to something known as "Next Step," which is, essentially, formula, but with a few minor changes (e.g. more protein). You've also pretty much given up your two bottles. You still take one in the a.m. and one at night, but you've gone from 8 ounces each time to maybe five, mostly four.
• You can easily use a pincher grasp to pick food up and put it in your mouth. No more mashing things across your face, hoping that they will make their way, somehow, into your open maw.

I'm sure that there's tons I'm forgetting, but those are the highlights.

What else is going on?

Well, your Big Brother William is getting ready to start college. He heads off to UNC-Wilmington this coming weekend. This is brand new territory for mom, so stay tuned for updates on how this unfolds. Meanwhile, Sissy gets ready for eighth grade. Again, totally new territory. She's the big kid on campus now...but that status is fleeting, as next year she begins high school at the bottom of the totem pool. Meanwhile, Big Brother Alex is preparing to get married. Nikki is his betrothed. They are planning a February wedding. We're trying to convince them to elope and save the money, but I'm not realistically hedging my bets on that happening. Again, stay tuned.

Oh, and I had already started stressing out about your Halloween costume (being the offspring of two dyed-in-the-wool Pastafarians, you're doomed to off-the-wall Halloween get ups), but as fate would have it, I fortunately, (for you?), happened upon, just this past weekend, a $10 frog costume, you will, as of this moment in time, be a frog for Halloween. Happy Frogging! :-)

All my love, forever and always,

times infinity,

whole bunnies,

Mom

Hi Baby Boy,
Mommy is blogging, so what does that mean? Yep! You guessed it! You've had a "monthly birthday." Mommy is sooo predictable, isn't she?

Silly boy! Silly Mommy!

So, yeah, OK, what a month we've had. You now have FOUR, yes, count 'em, FOUR teeth! Two on bottom, two on top. Mommy's little Rat-boy!

And on the day that you turned eight months old, although I never did update the blog to reflect as much, you started getting yourself from a crawling position back to a sitting position. No mean feat for a new crawler! You also began this month feeding yourself finger foods (although it's not an especially graceful maneuver, what with the whole grab-it-in-the-palm-shove-it-towards-the-mouth-and-hope-it-falls-in approach, it works nonetheless). And you started trying to pull up. Granted the 'pull ups' have only been while you had the help and support of an animate object, such as Dad or me...no, wait, I take it back...Daddy says that you once pulled up on your keyboard thingy, but is was just the once, otherwise it's been while one of us helped you along. Still and all... It's a start. And it's certainly an indication of things to come from this point forward.

While I love watching you learn and grow (I had this dream last night that you could type on complete sentences on the computer, even though you couldn't verbally communicate what you were typing yet!), it's all so bittersweet because no more will you be my little baby. I've seen it happen to your brother and your sister and I know all too well now how quickly it all goes by and I just want to savor it and revel in it, but I can't stop you from growing (even if I could, I couldn't), and I already have a fuzzy memory of your being a newborn and that was just a few months ago...

I'll stop now. I always get all mushy in these posts, don't I?

Suffice it to say, I love you. And while I miss the little baby you were, I'm having great fun watching you grow into the big boy you are now!

All my love, hugs, and kisses, forever until eternity!

Mommy

These are the words to the song that your father and I decided upon as "our song" for the purpose of our wedding, etc. (I'm publishing them here because tonight, when I did a search for them, I couldn't find them. Fortunately, your father had saved them from when they were available.) The artist's name is Si Kahn.

No fancy gowns no high class towns to promise
I'm plain as rain and that's just not my style
And I've never been a none to ask for favors
But I hope you plan to stay with me a while
You're comfortable as a quiet conversation
Among good friends who've shared the time to eat
Like good meat loves salt that's how I love you

It's common now to say that times are changing
But that's not true, it's only people change
My patterns like your plants hung in my windows
Were worth the time it took to rearrange
I don't ask for anything that you don't offer
Like butter loves bread that's how I love you

I never was a person to get lonely
I was satisfied to stay here by myself
And it's not that I could be here with you only
It's just better than with anybody else

I can't promise that I'll go and leave you never
You know that something always could go wrong
And I can't say that I'll love you 'till forever
'Cause I don't expect to stay here quite that long
I'll just say that I'm prepared to stay here with you
As long as you're content to stay with me
Like the river loves the sea that's how I love you
Flow into me.

Dear Benjamin,

Your Uncle Jack died today.

http://thecapistranodispatch.com/index.php?mact=News,cntnt01,detail,0&cntnt01articleid=461&cntnt01dateformat=%25B%20%25d%2C%20%25Y&cntnt01returnid=15

(I don't know how long that link will be valid, but should it expire I'm sure you can find something if you Google [will Google still be around when you're older?] the words "zepp ultralight.")

Papa is extremely sad about your uncle's death. Though they were brothers, they had not really been particularly close until recently. And this recent closeness makes it that much more hard to deal with for your Papa.

You've met Uncle Jack.

He made a special point of coming by to meet you directly after you were born.

He's been here twice, actually, since your birth. Although they had been in contact prior to your birth, you were actually sort of the catalyst for this whole fraternal reconciliation that he and your Papa went through, truth be known.

But because there are so many years between you and Papa and, thus, between you and your Uncle Jack and his and Papa's parents, I fear that you may grow up feeling completely out of touch with that whole side of your family. But I hope not.

I hope that one day you will appreciate and embrace these people--both your Uncle Jack and your grandparents--for who they were in their lives, and for the love that they would have had for you had they been able to be here and be a part of your life.

Does that make sense?

I hope so.

I'm afraid that I'm feeling rather raw emotionally, so I hope that I'm not being too macabre. I just want you to know that those from whom you are descended were fantastic people, and it's just a shame that they aren't able to be there for you, because I know that they would have truly loved to have been a part of your life.

If I were a religious person I would say that one day you will meet them. But I don't believe that.

I do, however, believe that they are a part of you. And you a part of them. And forever down the line this connection will remain.

Rest in peace Uncle Jack.

Happy eighth month birthday, Benjamin!!!!

What an month it's been, too! I mean, besides everything going on with Daddy, you've been super busy growing and learning.

You started crawling this month. It's still not a particularly graceful process, but you can get yourself across a room using this knee/belly combination of movements. What you do is get up on your knees, move forward a bit, flop down on your belly, and then repeat. Here lately you've started getting frustrated with how much effort this takes and how slowly you go and you've begun doing this 'push up' thing where you get up not on your knees but your toes and stick your fanny in the air. Eventually I think that all of this will result in a more efficient crawling motion, but again, you are still able to get yourself around doing what you're doing. And it's ever so much fun to watch you!

At the end of your sixth month you'd begun getting a bottom tooth. Well, now you have both bottom teeth. The one poked through all alone, but it was joined almost immediately by the other one. And based on the puffiness of your upper gums, as well as your desire to chomp things, I'm guessing that your top teeth will be in by the end of this month.

In light of your new teeth we've begun giving you the stage 3 baby foods, as well as some finger foods such as cheerios and tiny pieces of whatever we're eating. You can use a pincher grasp, but you still need a lot of practice perfecting it. Generally you can pick up the cheerios (or other foods), but keeping the food in your fingers while you get it to your mouth is still a challenge. I'm sure by the end of this month that will no longer be the case.

You've been drinking out of sippy cups and taking sips of water out of our glasses, but we've had to hold the container for you. Just yesterday, though, I gave you some formula in a cup that has handles and you picked up the cup and drank all by yourself!!

Your brother and sister have also reached some pretty important milestones this past month: Lizzie finished up seventh grade yesterday and this past Monday William completed his last high school course and he will graduate tonight. (Your Aunt Pat and Nana Carol are coming over this evening to watch you so that Aunt Lizzie, Daddy (hopefully), Lizzie, and I can attend graduation.)

Yep, it's been a wild month. You've been busy growing and developing and doing your wonderful baby things, Daddy's had major surgery, your sister has finished her next-to-the-last year of middle school, and your brother is graduating and getting ready to leave the house to head for college.

Whew!

Mommy's tired!

But it's a good tired. :-)

You all--Daddy, brother, sister, and you--are what's it all about.

Love you!

Happy Birthday!!!

A quick update (I just got out of the shower and have got to go get ready to run to the grocery store and take Daddy to the eye doctor):

We came home Sunday.

I'm absolutely thrilled to have both of you in the same place!

Even though Aunt Liz is still coming everyday to help with you, I took off of work again this week so I could be around to help Daddy (and spend some time with you).

Daddy continues to improve. He has ups and downs all throughout the day, which is completely normal. He's progressing right along.

Tomorrow is your eighth month birthday. I'll be sure to post again then.

Love you!
Mommy

It's 9 p.m.

This is the first time I've taken the opportunity all day to just sit and play on the computer.

It's been an...interesting day.

I spent the night in the hospital. As you might can imagine (Or maybe you can't? I always envision myself talking to grown up Benjamin when I type here, but maybe I'm talking to 10-year-old Benjamin, who has no idea what being in a hospital is like?), one doesn't get a lot of sleep in a hospital. Every time you nod off someone comes in the room to rudely awaken the patient and poke or prod some part of him. The result is that the next day you find yourself feeling like you haven't slept at all. Which is how I've felt all day.

And then, of course, as soon as my day started I had to scheme and plot to figure out how I would logistically get everything done and be everywhere I needed to be. Lizzie needed to be taken to school by 7:30. And then her awards ceremony began at 8:30. And then Liz needed to go home to feed her cats and take care of things at her house. And I needed to take a shower and change clothes. And I wanted to take you to see your father. And then I needed to go to the grocery store to buy some baby food because you're out of fruit. And the van was out of gas, so I needed to stop and fill it up. And then I had to get back to the hospital. And, oh yeah, I wanted (needed) someone to stay with Donald while I did all that.

It took a LOT of help from everyone, but somehow or another I managed to get all that done!

Yay! for mommy!

And Yay! for everyone who's helped/helping mommy!

As far as events here at the hospital, your father has done well today. He got his catheter out early in the day and then his chest tubes out in the afternoon, so now the only thing he has attached or tethered to him is the external pacemaker. He's walked twice in the hallway (the first time was rough on him, he got very dizzy and nearly fell down, but the second time he didn't have any problems) and is generally doing extremely well still.

He is experiencing one small adverse surgical 'side-effect' and that is some occasional vision loss in his left eye. According to a ophthalmologist who came around to check him out, it's a condition known as nonarteritic anterior ischemic optic neuropathy (NAIOC). Essentially it's where he had, basically, a stroke, or loss of blood flow, in an optic artery. Hopefully it'll remedy itself. But we'll have him thoroughly checked out by his own doctor once he's home.

OK, kid, I'm afraid I'm getting really tired now, so I think I'll go lie down and try to get some sleep before someone comes in to poke and prod your father and wakes me up.

I love you so much sweet baby boy. I'm sorry that I can't be there with you right now. I miss you terribly. But you seem to be weathering all of this extremely well, and hopefully soon it'll all be over and both Mommy and Daddy will be there with you again and you'll never remember anything any differently.

Hugs and kisses, Funny Benjamin Bunny!

Love,

Mommy

I'm extremely tired, so I won't write much. Just wanted to note that I'd left the hospital around 5:00 to run Lizzie and Alex home (Alex had to go back to Wilkesboro tonight) and spend some time with you before putting you to bed.

But now I'm back.

Thank goodness, too. Daddy's nurse tonight is a bit of a...not sure what's a good word for it... Seems to me that perhaps she didn't actually pass her nursing certifications.

Daddy had to go to the bathroom, so she got him in there and then left. Told me to ring if I needed her help to get him out. (If?!?! What do I look like, a nurse!? Not to mention he's not even supposed to be going to the bathroom--I mean, that's the whole reason for the Foley!)

Anyway, she never came back around, and when I looked out the door for her before going in for Daddy she wasn't around, so I attempted to help him myself. Big mistake. Oh, we were fine going from the bathroom to the bed, that wasn't a big deal. Getting him in the bed, along with his myriad and sundry wires and tubes was, however, quite the ordeal, and I like to have killed him in the process.

I feel so badly! I mean, it seemed like it ought to be a simple enough process, putting someone in the bed. But when they have tubes dangling from their chest, as well as from other, sensitive parts of their body, it's just not that easy. And, again, I'm not a nurse, so whadda I know about these things to begin with.

But even when Nurse Know-Nothing came in to help, she didn't do a much better job than I'd been doing. She was jostling him around and yanking on the catheter, bouncing his bed around, depending on me to help pull him up (not that I mind at all helping her help him, it's just I have to wonder how would she have done it if I weren't here?).

Poor, poor Daddy. Like I said, we nearly killed him, I think. He was in a lot of pain from the whole ordeal.

But now he's had another pain pill and the lights are all out in the room and he's resting. Comfortably, I hope.

I have a chair/bed thing pulled out and am all ready for bed myself (thank goodness I thought to bring a pillow from home 'cause the pillows here aren't hitting on much).

I'm sorry I haven't been there a lot for you these past few days. I feel so terribly torn between wanting to be here with Daddy and wanting to be there with you. I'll be so happy when I can have you both in the same place and I don't have to keep trying to shuttle back and forth.

I love you. Good night sweetie boy.

Wednesday, 10:30 a.m.

Alex and I are back at the hospital. We got here in time for the 8:30 a.m. CTSU visitation. Daddy is doing so well! They were prepping him while we were there for moving him up to the third floor Cardiac step-down unit.

They told us that we could go ahead up to the room, so we did, but then the nurses decided that the room they had initially wanted him to go in was not adequate for the equipment that they still have him on, so they had to get another room ready. In the meantime we're hanging out in the chapel, playing on our computers.

I am absolutely amazed at how quickly your father is rebounding from the surgery. I was so worried that he'd be out of it for several days, but he seems to be progressing right along and, though still obviously in need of lots of healing time, he's experienced very few adverse effects thus far.

Myself, I'm feeling much better in general today than I did yesterday. Sleep helped. (Even though I wasn't able to doze off until around midnight and I found myself waking up again around 4 a.m., but I stayed in bed until 6 and drifted in and out during that time.) You, you sleepy head, did not wake up until 7 a.m.! It was a mad dash to get everything done this a.m. and get out the door in time to get here for the 8:30 visit, but somehow I made it.

It also helps that Daddy is doing so amazingly well. He's certainly not completely out of the woods yet, but he's well on his way and his progress thus far gives me great hope that all is going to be well in the end.

I do wish that they'd hurry up and get him up here. I'm anxious to see him again.

I'm home.

I visited with Daddy one last time at 9:30 p.m. He was doing really well at that time, sitting up, talking, being silly. But that was the last visiting time, so we had to leave afterwards. I'm very sad that I couldn't take him with me, or else stay there, but I needed to come home for you anyway, so I couldn't have stayed anyway.

When I got home you and Aunt Liz were rocking in your room. Your diaper had leaked and you had woken up crying. Aunt Liz changed you, and she and Alex together changed your sheet. I rocked with you for awhile and then put you back to bed. You're asleep again. I am not.

As exhausted as I am, I can't seem to shut down now. I'll sit up and read for a little while and see if that helps and, if not, I'll have to go scrounge around and find the Tylenol PM.

I miss your Daddy so much.

I love you both so much.

Good night.

Just got back from the 8:30 p.m. visit.

Your Daddy was more awake, but still had the breathing tube in so he couldn't talk. He was able to communicate though with motions and such. He wanted to know what time it was, and joked around with my Dad, flipping him off when Dad asked him to repeat himself. Oh, and when the nurse turned her back for a moment he made like he wanted me to get up and get gone with him. Again, it's good to know that his sense of humor is working so well so soon.

The next time we go visit him the nurse says that his breathing tube should be out and he'll be able to talk some.

It's hard to tell how much he's really there with us still, though. Especially because the nurse said earlier that rarely do patients remember any of their time in ICU. So it would seem to me that if that's the case, then he really isn't engaged in interacting.

............................................................................................................................................................

So a few minutes ago the desk lady here said "Is there a member of the Zepp family here?" and then sent us back to see Daddy. Scared the bejeezus out of me because I, of course, assumed that something terrible had happened because there's still an hour left until the scheduled visiting time.

Fortunately, though, the reason for the impromptu visit was because the breathing tube had come out and the nurse thought that we'd want to go see him (which of course we did).

It was great!

He was sitting up, no tube, talking (quietly, though, because his throat hurts terribly). He can remember that we had visited before. He's doing so well!!

At 4:30 we went back during the scheduled visiting time (CICU visiting times are 8:30 a.m., 10:30 a.m., 1:30 p.m., 4:30 p.m., 7:30 p.m., and 9:30 p.m.) and guess what? Daddy was awake!!!!!

And he's passed the test checking for signs of stroke!

Yay!!

His nurse is extremely impressed with how well he's doing, she really didn't expect him to be awake so soon.

Although he won't remember a bit of our visit, and although he still can't talk because of the breathing tube, he was able to respond to my questions. We even had a bit of fun: I asked him to blink once for yes, which he did, and then I asked him to blink ten times for no, which he started to do. Of course he knew I was kidding and it made me feel so good to know that not only is he there with us again, but his sense of humor remains intact despite the trauma he's been through today.

His surgeon just wandered out here to talk to a different family about their loved one and stopped by briefly to say hi. Strange guy, this surgeon. Very odd personality. He asked me how your Daddy was doing and I said, happily, "He's doing GREAT!" and he responds with, "Yeah, I think he's going to be alright. Keep your fingers crossed." Now why the hell would he say something like that? Is there something going on that I'm not aware of for which I would need to cross my fingers in hopes that it remedies itself???

Here I am, feeling happy that things are going so well, and then WHAM! the surgeon suggests that maybe I shouldn't be so happy?!

I'm just too tired for this kind of b.s.

C'mon 7:30...I need to see my sweetie!

hey (Lizzie typed that--she wanted to add something here :-)

So about an hour ago we went back to see Daddy.

It was a scary experience.

He has so many tubes and monitors and tape and things going every which way. Down his throat. On his head. On his hands. Everywhere.

And he was pale. And cold. And swollen.

And I felt so badly for him. I just wanted to scoop him up and hold him and make it all better.

But I couldn't.

I have to wait.

i love u! (Lizze typed that, too. She obviously wanted to add something again :-)

Anyway...

So I have to wait.

Daddy has to get better slowly, on his own.

And he will. I know he will.

I just have to wait.

It's 1:30 p.m. and we just got done talking with Dr. Peyton.

He said everything went according to plan. (Except that even he didn't foresee having to do six arteries--something that he specifically mentioned he doens't do often, but which definitely needed doing in this case.) At this point Daddy is still sedated and on the ventilator, but he'll be ready to have us visit in about an hour and a half (he still won't be conscious, though, even at that point).

I can't even begin to describe how relieved I feel now that the surgery itself is over. I tried to tell myself not to think negatively, but truth be told I was so scared that something terrible might happen--that I might be that poor woman crying in the conference room--and now that I'm out of the woods as far as that kind of thing goes (of course, awful things can occur during recovery, but those odds are really low and I'm not even going to think about that any further right now), I'm positively elated!

I just wish I could go ahead and go back and see him. I want to touch him and know that he's here and he's OK. Then I can go home and see you, and hold you. And then maybe, hopefully, get some sleep. I'm exhausted.

We just received the second phone call (12:15 p.m.).

Daddy is off the heart/lung machine and they're putting him back together, after having bypassed SIX arteries! Six!!

Now we're waiting for the surgeon himself to finish up and come out to talk with us.

I'm feeling much more relaxed at this point, but I won't be completely off of pins and needles until I see the surgeon!

It's 10:45 a.m.

A nurse called about a half-hour ago to give us an update. Said your father was doing well and that had started the actual bypass process. I'm still anxious, but it helped knowing that so far, so good.

(Some unfortunate family up here did not receive such good news. A few hours ago they took a woman into one of the private rooms off the waiting room to obviously tell her that something unpleasant and unforeseen had happened to someone she loves. Despite the private room, we could still hear her crying.)

Despite the computer and a book she brought to read, Lizzie is getting bored and antsy. She wants to go to the gift shop, so that's where we're off for...

So here we are, in the critical care waiting room at Wake Med.

They've taken your father back already to prep him for surgery, which should begin around 8:00 a.m. or so (it's 7:00 a.m. now--we've been at the hospital since 5:30 a.m.). Your brother, Alex, and your sister, Lizzie, are here with me and your grandmother, Becky, and Nana Carol will also be up here in awhile.

I'm pretty sure that I haven't posted before about any of this...so let me give you some background: A few months ago now I pleaded with and threatened your father enough that I finally convinced him to go have a physical (your arrival helped my case). A result, though, of that assessment was an elevated cholesterol reading, which in turn resulted in your father having to take a cholesterol lowering drug, and which also prompted his GP to recommend a test known as a cardiac calcium score (it looks for and measures the build up of calcium in the plaque that has occurred on the arterial walls). Well, this test came back with not-so-good results, which prompted the GP to recommend yet another procedure known as a stress test to see just how well the blood supply was getting to his heart. This test, too, came back with some concerning scores, so this time the GP recommended going to a cardiologist and having a cardiac catheterization to determine, once and for all, if your father had any blockages.

The day we went in for the catheterization (23 May), we expected that, worse case scenario, your dad would have to stay overnight at the hospital because the doctor had to put in a stent or two to unblock a mildly blocked artery. Fortunately that didn't happen. Unfortunately the result was worse: four, or perhaps five, of the arteries leading to his heart were so blocked that stents just wouldn't do the trick--he'd either have to have bypass surgery to repair them or he could spend the rest of his life trying hard not to exert himself physically because to do so would eventually result in a heart attack.

So here we are, at the hospital, waiting while the surgeon repairs your father's arteries.

And speaking of surgeons, Dr. Robert Peyton, your father's surgeon, just came by to tell us that he'd be getting started soon and to not worry (Yeah, right!) that things would be fine and he'd have a nurse call around 12:00 or 1:00 to give us an update.

Meanwhile, your at home with your Aunt Lizze who, thankfully, recently retired and is able to take care of you for us while we take care of all of this. If there is a such thing as good timing for this to have happened, this was a good time. I'm not sure what I'd have done if Aunt Lizzie wasn't able to take care of you. I guess I'd either have to find a daycare (I can't imagine!) or else figure out a way to take care of you while waiting all day at a hospital (I can't imagine!). Thank goodness for Aunt Lizze!!

It's now 7:47 a.m. In roughly 10 minutes they'll begin surgery. I'm trying not to be frightened and worried, but truth is, I'm frightened and worried. And although in reality we've only been here for a little over two hours, it's feels like we've been here for a week already. I can but imagine that the time between now and that noon-ish phone call is going to feel like an eternity.

I love your father so much. He's truly my everything. It hurts me for him to hurt and I just want this to be over and done with. I miss him already and I wish I could somehow make this better for him and I feel so powerless that I can't...

Nana Carol is here.

It's 7:56 a.m.

Dear Benjamin,

Today, Mother's Day, you are seven months old!

Some accomplishments of the past month:

• You crawled. Sort of. Suffice it to say you achieved forward motion, even if your form still leaves a little to be desired. (You'll get there, though! Practice makes perfect!)
• A tooth has broken through. Bottom left (your left). It's still not visible to the naked eye, but when I run my finger over your gum I can feel it!
• You have added the 'p' sound to your growing repertoire of raspberries, squeals, and myriad other noises.
• You're eating three 'meals', plus about 24 oz. of formula, per day. (I believe you've had, at this point, every kind of stage 2 baby food on the market. You're still not crazy about the meats, at least not by themselves, but you'll eat them when they're mixed with fruits or vegetables.)
• You enjoy 'eating' (i.e. voraciously gumming) teething biscuits.

Every single day you change. Small changes, but ones that quickly add up to become significant changes. I mean, just think, a mere seven months ago you could do nothing more than lie there and reflexively wave your arms and legs. But now you've perfected your pincher grasp and can pick up a toy using only your thumb and index finger. That's amazing stuff!

And I'm enjoying every moment with you. I look forward toward seeing you in the morning, peering between your crib slats, greeting me, and the day, with a smile on your face. I miss you terribly during the day when I have to go to work (but I'm so glad that you get to stay here with your father--it helps to know that you're with someone who loves you just as much as I do). And then I can't wait to get home in the evening to see you again! I have always looked forward towards the weekends, but I do even more now that it means that I have entire days to spend with you!

It's such a wonderful experience having you. And having you at the age I am now. When your brother and sister were small I doted on them just the same as I do you now, but the difference between then and now is I didn't have the hindsight and the life experience then to know how quickly they would grow up and stop being babies. (Not that they aren't still my babies...but they didn't stay little babies for long. Your brother, in fact, turned 18 just last month. Incredible stuff. I vividly remember him being born and it wasn't that long ago!) But now I know. I realize all too well how short-lived this stage in your--and my--life is going to be and it makes every day, every moment, with you that much more special.

Sorry if I'm being overly mushy, but I want you to know these things. I want you to know how
absolutely fantastic I think you are, how important you are to me, and how much I love you. I'm afraid that because your father and I are 'older' parents (your father certainly falls into that category more so than me, but even I am considered an 'older' mommy) we have perhaps added a dimension of difficulty to your life that most kids don't have to deal with. If we have, I apologize. But please, please know that it was not our intent. Our intent was only to expand our love for each other by creating a child together. You, of course, are that child. And we love you so very much! You're the light of our lives!

And I promise that I'm going to do better about posting to this blog. I'm sure you've noticed the trend: I post once a month on your 'birthday.' So I'm going to work on that. It's just that I stay so busy watching you and enjoying you, it's hard to find time to write about you!

But until next time, I remain,

devotedly yours,

Mommy

P.S. Thank you so much for the pretty flowers and plant you and Daddy gave to me for Mother's Day, as well as for the sweet note you wrote to me!

Dear Bunnyboy,
We went to the doctor today for your six-month well-baby visit.

The doctor says that you are 20.6 lbs (90th percentile), 26.5" long (50th percentile), and your noggin is about 18.2" around (96th percentile).

Besides the normal weigh and measure, you received a few shots today. (I think you got two of them, on top of an oral dose of the rotavirus vaccine, but I'm not really sure because I never stand around while they're poking you. I let Daddy help them with that and I come back to you when it's over to hold you and comfort you.) Generally shots don't affect you, but this afternoon you seem to be a little cranky and out of sorts, so I can't help but assume that it's the shots bothering you.

In general, though, you had a good visit. The doctor pronounced you as being "absolutely perfect." Of course, I already knew that, but it's always nice to get a professional opinion on the matter, too!

So I've been meaning to write here about some of the things you do on a daily basis that I don't think I generally talk about, but which I need to document so that I don't forget about them.

Such things are:

When you drink your bottle, I snuggle you up against me as if we were still breastfeeding. This puts your right arm behind me, but your left arm is left free to roam. You generally alternate between hugging/grabbing your bottle and grabbing my face or nose. It's extremely cute. Sometimes it seems as though that hand is independent of you and has a mind of its own because you'll be staring off into space and it'll be waving around, searching for a facial feature to grab hold of!

When you're in your walker you scoot up to the ficus and grab a fistful of plant and yank. This invariably results in your snatching at least one leaf--or a piece of leaf--off the tree. Of course, I can't tell that you've done this until I unclench your little fist and find the the leaf stuck to your hand!

Another thing you do in your walker is, you'll see someone from across the room and you'll RUN like mad towards that person and CRASH your walker into her (my) legs! You also love to chase the animals this way, but they don't let you catch them.

We play "How Big is Benjamin" and usually this elicits a hearty laugh!

We play "Peekaboo" and generally have similar results.

When we put you on the floor on your tummy you try to crawl by raising your legs and your arms and wiggling them. Naturally this doesn't result in any crawling, but it sure is funny to watch!

When you're tired or upset you suck your thumb.

Sometimes--especially early in the day, for whatever reason--if I ask you for a kiss you will lean towards me, open mouthed, and let me kiss you.

When you're tired and cranky you sometimes make what we have come to call "squinchy face" whereby you squeeze your eyes shut and squeal unhappily.

When we change your diaper these days your hands immediately go south and grab hold. (And from what I can tell, based on my experiences with your brother, this is a habit that you may not ever outgrow!)

You will play happily by yourself for 10-15 minutes at a time when we sit you up and surround you with your Boppy pillow and give you toys.

At night you enjoy watching your undersea-themed music thingy that's attached to your crib before you go to sleep.

You cry sometimes when people you don't know are in the house, but generally out in public you're sociable.

You can make 'ba', 'ma', and 'da' sounds.

When you're excited you often pant.

Tonight you tried plain yogurt for the first time and you gobbled it up.

You can feed yourself a 'biter biscuit,' but often on the way to finding your mouth you'll stick the biscuit in your ear or up your nose, which always tickles Daddy and me.

Essentially everything you do is exciting and amazing to me, and I am having such a good time watching you learn and grow. Everyday is a new adventure and I only wish I knew how to stop the clock, or at least slow it down, so that I can enjoy you that much more. I know that you have to grow up...but please, do Mommy a favor and take your time.

Hugs and kisses Funny Bunny!

Yours forever,
Mommy

It's that time again... It's YOUR BIRTHDAY!

Your SIX MONTH birthday!!

A half of a year old!

And wow! How you have changed!

This past month you've begun perfecting your pincher grasp, you're almost crawling (you're still doing this grounded airplane maneuver where you lie on your belly and put your arms and legs up in the air and wiggle, but then you invariably get up on your knees and rock a bit, so it won't be long now), you're eating all of the "first stage" veggie and fruits, you've started drinking out of a cup (just some water every now and then), you're feeding yourself biter biscuits, you're consistently sleeping through the night, you've added "ma's" and "da's" to your babble repertoire, and you're sitting up on your own (although you still can't get there yourself, someone has to put you in the position, and you'll occasionally lose your balance and topple backwards...but otherwise, you're sitting alone).

I know I keep saying this over and over, but the time is just flying! You've grown so much in such a short time. It just amazes me all the changes that have occurred since October. And I think about all the ones that are coming up. I mean, in another six months you'll be walking, talking, and eating what we eat. You won't be a "baby" baby anymore! It's just incredible to think about. And it's wonderful to watch. I'm having so much fun with you. It's such a treat everyday to see you in the morning, smiling at me from between the slats of your crib, to kiss your cheeks and give you that first morning hug.

I think I'm in love with you, Benjamin!

(Actually, there's no "think" to it, I am in love! Forever and ever...)

Daddy has put dinner on the table! Gotta run!

Love you!!!

Mommy

Hi Benjamin Bunny,
It's the day after your first Easter.

It's...three? days after the first day of your first Spring.

Almost everything is a first for you! It's so cool!

Some developmental firsts that have happened lately are: You learned how to move yourself around in your walker using a bipedal foot motion. You can sit up alone (though you can't get that position by yourself, and you still have to be closely watched in case you start to go over backwards or sideways). And today I have noticed that you are "talking" (i.e. babbling) much more than you have been.

It's so much fun for your Daddy and me, watching you do all of these things!

Speaking of your Daddy, here he comes now...home from work.

I will go and say hello to him.

Love you Sweetie!!

Love,
Mommy

Dear Benjamin Bunny,

Happy FIVE MONTHS old!!

It's been a fun and exciting month for everyone. You have grown by leaps and bounds. Not only can you turn over from one side to the other with relative ease and grace, but you can almost sit up on your own and you're making motions that indicate you might soon be crawling. For the most part you're sleeping entirely through the night (some nights you still wake up and want to be fed, but mostly you sleep through). And you are readily gobbling up the "solid" food we've given you. (So far you've had rice cereal, sweet potatoes, bananas [those didn't agree with your tummy though, so we're going to hold off giving you anymore for a few months], and squash.)

It's difficult for both Daddy and me to reconcile that just a short few months ago you were so small and helpless and now here you are so active and so big. We knew it would happen, certainly, but knowing it and actually witnessing how fast all the changes would occur are two different things!

You are going to be all grown up before we know it.

I know I sound corny, but the time truly is flying by and I wish I knew how to make it stand still so that I could enjoy each moment with you just a little bit longer.

You're such a sweet boy.

When you wake up in the mornings and from your naps, you generally lie in your bed and make little waking up sounds, and when I go in to see whether or not you're truly coming awake you'll look up from between the slats of your crib and give me this big, sweet grin, as if we've been apart for some extended time (which, to you, I guess we have) and you're totally thrilled to see me again.

And you have the absolute best laugh in the world! I'm not so certain if it's the words or my mop of hair shaking that drives you to it, but whenever I hold you on my lap and say silly things to you, you laugh so hard you give yourself the hiccups! It's the sweetest sound to me, your laughter.

You know, come to think on it, there's not a whole lot about you that I'm not just absolutely thrilled with (yeah, I could live without the poopy diapers, but even those I don't mind so much)! And while I think you're growing up way too fast, I'm nonetheless looking forward toward the changes that this next month will bring. Everything you do is so exciting!

I love you bunches and bunches sweetie pie funny boy!

Again, happy FIVE MONTHS old!

Love, Mommy

A typical day in the life of four-month-old Benjamin:

0400-0430: Bottle, 5 oz. (Given by Daddy who, bless his heart, always gets up with you at this ungodly hour)
0700-0730: Wake up!
0800-0830: Bottle, 5-6 oz.
0900-1000: Down for a nap that usu. lasts for 1.5 hours
1130-1200: Two tablespoons cereal and 5-6 oz. formula
1230-1330: Down for another nap, lasts about a half-hour
1400-1500: Bottle, 5-6 oz.
1530-1600: Another nap, another half-hour
1700-1730: Bottle, 3-8 oz. (just depends)
1800-1830: Naps briefly
2000-2030: Bottle, 6-8 oz.

Start over.

I have officially, as of today, stopped pumping/breastfeeding. Completely.

On the one hand I'm happy and relieved. I hated pumping and I'm thrilled to know that never again do I have to hook my breasts up to that evil device. And it's nice not to have to worry about what medicines I can take or whether or not I can have a glass of wine before a certain time.

But on the other hand I'm terribly, terribly sad. This is the last time in my life that I will ever have the opportunity to provide breast milk for a child of mine (yeah, yeah, I know I said the same thing when I was breastfeeding Lizzie--don't go there!) and it's the end of an era that went by way too fast.

I am trying not to beat myself up too badly about the decision to stop, but it's hard. I feel selfish. Yes, pumping is awful. It's painful. And it's a complete pain in the !@#. But a good martyr. . .er. . .mom does what she has to do for her baby, right?

And then of course there's the whole thing about expectations. See, I had these expectations about how my life would be if/when I ever had another child (I'd quit work and stay at home in my lovely, self-cleaning, landscaped, Better Homes & Gardens decorated house until my child was at least in high school), and that didn't work out. And then I had these expectations about what my birth experience would be like, and that didn't pan out. And then I had expectations about what my breastfeeding experience would be like, and that didn't pan out. So I pumped. And it sucked (literally and figuratively). So that didn't really pan out either!

And now I feel guilty. And like a loser.

I can't get anything right.

Well, except my baby boy.

He's right.

As right as rain.

He's perfect.

And really, that's all that should count. And I know it. The rest is just. . .details. He's what's important and he's GREAT.

And I know that he's going to remain that way, no matter that I feed him formula now instead of breast milk.

I have to remind myself: I gave him four months of breast milk. That's more than a lot of babies ever get. And I tried hard to make it work out for a longer period of time, but it didn't and that's just how it is. And, bottom line, Benjamin is growing (oh so quickly!) and is going to be fine. I know this. It's just sometimes hard to remember.

We're back from our visit to the pediatrician's office.

You are 18.1 lbs.!!!!

And you are 25 inches long!

This puts you in the 95th percentile for weight and the 45th percentile for height.

You are, officially, a BIG boy!

Hard to believe that at one point they were worried about you losing weight. Ha! You sure showed them!

I think that you're not feeling well tonight due to the shots they gave you today. You're terribly grumpy. Nothing makes you happy tonight. I feel so badly for you, too. I can't seem to do anything to make you feel better. Hopefully this won't last long.

Dear Benjamin,
Happy FOUR MONTHS old!!

Wow! So hard for Mommy to believe that you're already FOUR MONTHS old!

When did it happen that you stopped being a newborn baby and turned into this. . .well, no longer newborn baby? This baby who can hold his head up and push up on his arms and give these big ol' belly laughs and turn himself over front to back and back to front again? We've been watching you the whole time, yet we seemed to have missed that turning point. It just kinda. . .happened.

So here you are. Four big months old. Rolling over in both directions, following our voices, seeing us when we're completely across the room, and trying out "solid food" (as of yesterday, when we gave you your first rice cereal meal). Amazing feats of motor skill and intellectual ability! You're growing so quickly. So terribly quickly.

Slow it down a little, would you?

No, I don't really mean that.

I don't want you to slow down. Nor do I want you to speed up. I'm perfectly happy having you just the way your are. It's all exciting and amazing to me, just as it was when your brother and your sister went through these stages, only this time I know, only too well, how fast the time flies and how fleeting the moments are, so I can appreciate it, hopefully, a little more this time around.

Ironic, I guess, that at this point in my life, while I might be financially better off than I ever have been, I'm busier than ever and have less time to give. I was dirt poor when your brother was born, yet managed to stay home with him for a full year. Same with your sister, except it was six months that I didn't work when I had her. But when I did return to work it was in the childcare field and she went with me. This time I have to go back to my corporate job, there's no getting around it. We need my salary. And, truth be told, there are certain aspects of my job that I enjoy (namely a sense of accomplishment and recognition). But as much as I might enjoy it, I'd rather be here with you and it makes me sad that I can't be. I hope that you'll understand and don't resent that I'm not here with you. At least you get to stay with your father during the day rather than go off to icky daycare.

And boy, does your Daddy love you! You're the light of his life, his heart, his raison d'etre. He loves you. . .well, more than I know how to quantify with words. I know that you are in the best possible hands when I leave you each day with him. He's all about you and I know that when you're with him you're well care for. I might be sad that I have to leave you, but I'm happy knowing that you're home with your father.

Speaking of which, tomorrow I don't have to go to work. I have taken off so that I can take you to the doctor's for your four month old well-check. I can't wait to find out how much weight you've gained, how tall (long?) you are, and how impressed the doctor is with all that you've accomplished over the past two months. You'll also get some shots while you're there. That part I'm not so happy about, as they'll hurt you and make you cry. But I have to remember that it's for the greater good--the diseases that the shots are protecting you from are far worse for you than the momentary feeling of pain is that comes from the shots themselves.

I'll let you know how it goes.

I love you silly boy funny bunny goofy doofy chicken nugget!

You make me happy.

Happy birthday.

Love,
Mommy

I meant also to post to document the fact that Benjamin can now roll from his back to his tummy. We haven't actually witnessed him doing this, but for the past three nights he's been put down on his back in his crib and when we've gone back to check on him he's been on his tummy.

Oh, yeah, I just wanted to quickly document that I had a bout of mastitis this week.

Wednesday night I awoke in the middle of the night with an awful pain in my left breast. I couldn't sleep it hurt so badly. I had to get up and pump (which of course made things hurt worse), apply hot compresses, and take Tylenol P.M. before I could get any rest.

I went to work Thursday, but by the time I got home that evening I was running a fever and felt as though I'd been hit by a Mack truck--every joint in my body ached. Fortunately I'd called the Birth Center earlier in the day and they had called in a prescription of antibiotics for me, which I'd picked up before coming home. I got in two of the four prescribed daily doses before I went to bed and by Friday morning I felt much, much better. Today there's still a tiny bit of soreness in the breast, but nothing like it felt on Thursday.

I'd have to rank mastitis fourth on my list of most physically painful experiences I've ever had (giving birth is number one, followed closely by wisdom tooth extraction and then root canal). Fortunately it responds quickly to antibiotics!

Well, as I said we would when I wrote on Monday, that very evening we started the "Ferber method" to help you learn to sleep. Now here we are, five evenings later, and I'm extraordinarily happy to report that things have gone absolutely swimmingly!

I had, naturally, figured that we would be in for a week from hell. But it really has been a relatively easy thing to do.

Your father began the process with nap time on Monday, which meant that I was at work during the roughest time--that first nap when he put you down, in your crib, by yourself, without a pacifier. I think he said that you cried for a total of 45 minutes that first time (with him going in every so often to try and comfort you, of course). But by the time that evening rolled around, you'd already had several nap time episodes to get you used to the idea of being basically on your own for sleepy time so you only cried for a little while before sleeping more or less through the night. Mommy was so afraid that you'd be completely inconsolable and that I would be overwhelmed with guilt and sorrow listening to you. But it wasn't like that at all, thank goodness. And you've progressively gotten better--i.e. you've been crying for less time--every day since. Tonight you went down without crying at all!!

I think we have almost gotten a routine figured out (at least for bed time--naps are another story): Around 8 p.m. you get dressed in your PJs. Then sometime between 8:15-8:45 you get a bottle. After that we go into your room and sit in your glidey chair and read a story. Then I sing you a song and put you in your bed. Like I said, until tonight you fussed some, but no more than 10 minutes. Tonight there was nary a peep out of you. Naturally we keep a nursery monitor in your room so we can hear you from our room and Daddy, bless his heart, gets up to give you your middle of the night bottle, which generally occurs around 2:30-3:00. He also hangs out on the couch listening to make sure you go back to bed. You generally go back down until somewhere around 6ish. This morning you slept until 7:30!

Life is good! Everyone is getting sleep!

Now we just have to work on naps. You haven't been napping well, waking like clockwork after only 30 minutes and sleeping for longer stretches only after we've gone somewhere in the van. But today, well, you actually took a decent afternoon nap, so maybe we're seeing some progress there, too.

But speaking of sleep, it's 9:45 p.m. Past Mommy's bedtime. Going to call it a night!

Love you, you sweet silly gorgeous SLEEPING baby boy!

So I wimped out last night.

Almost immediately after posting in my blog, I sat down to give you a bottle and I decided then, looking down at your little sweet and trusting face, that there's no way I could stand to make you cry and that maybe I could withstand a few more weeks of sleep deprivation.

But then in the middle of the night last night, after having been awakened too many times to count by your wiggling and whimpering, I decided that maybe I can't withstand a few more weeks of sleep deprivation after all.

You're really have a tough time of it. You've developed some bad sleep associations and, at this point, you just can't seem to fall asleep, or stay asleep, at all on your own. Even with someone there to hold you and constantly put your pacifier back in your mouth, you're still having trouble settling down and getting any good amount of sleep.

So this process of teaching you to sleep on your own has got to be done and the sooner we get it over with the better for everyone. I feel badly for you. I feel badly for all of us because nothing about the current situation is good and certainly nothing about the next few days is going to be fun.

Hopefully this is going to work and it won't be too painful for either of us.

Please know that I love you. And I'm sorry.

Oh, and I believe you're teething.

You're drooling like a rabid St. Barnard and you chomp down on whatever you can get into your little mouth. And you're cranky. Cranky, cranky, cranky.

It's a bit early for teething, but not unheard of. Your brother got his first tooth early, so I'm not surprised that you're teething at this point.

So we have a problem.

A sleeping problem.

Well, "we" don't have the problem, you do, my dear sweet baby boy. But it is our fault you have this problem. We have allowed you to develop some terrible sleep habits. For instance, we have rocked you to sleep, we have held you in our arms while you slept, and we have been putting you in our bed to sleep and we have even--gasp--given you a pacifier to help you sleep!

I know, these sound like pretty reasonable things to do with a baby, right? Nope, seems that these are bad, bad, baaaad things. They make it so that baby doesn't learn how to put himself to sleep, which in turn means that mommy, and sometimes daddy, doesn't get to sleep much either, because we are spending all of our time either putting you to sleep (or back to sleep), or else sleeping uncomfortably because we have to cram ourselves into tiny spaces in our bed (where you've been sleeping all this time) to ensure that you don't get crushed or smothered or what have you.

Tonight we will begin to try and remedy the situation.

Mommy has bought a book entitled Solve Your Child's Sleep Problems. It's written by a doctor who is a sleep expert. He basically recommends letting children CIO (cry it out). Albeit with the occasional reassurance from the parent, but there is to be no picking up or rocking or pacifier giving or anything bad like that. The goal is to let you learn how to comfort yourself and put yourself to sleep. In your own bed.

I know that once you learn to fall asleep on your own we will all be happier. I'm just not sure how I'm going to make it in the interim. I can't stand to hear you cry. And I worry that just plopping you in your bed and letting you figure it out on your on will hurt you psychologically--it will make you not trust us. Daddy assures me that isn't going to happen, but mommy is fearful. So guess what? Daddy will be the one to make this happen. Mommy will be in her room with the door shut and the radio on, trying not to cry.

I'll let you know how it goes.

No matter what happens, please know that mommy loves you completely and totally and that this is all being done for your own good. I'm sorry if it doesn't seem like that right now, but it's true. I'd never do anything in the world to hurt you.

Update to the pumping situation:

I realize that I had written that I was going to stop pumping completely. Well, that didn't happen. But what did happen is that I quit trying to pump every three hours during the day and have gone to a three times a day total schedule. So what I do is get up in the a.m. and pump (after I've nursed Benjamin on and off during the night), then four to four and one-half hours later I pump again, and then four to five hours after that I pump one more time. That's it. No pumping at night (which is a time that I really, really despise the breast pump, for whatever reason). No more freaking out and stressing about whether or not I have enough milk. No more being stuck at the house because I'm scared I might not be able to pump if I go out.

I'm still able to get anywhere from 16 to 24 oz. of breast milk in a day this way, so Benjamin's diet can remain majority breast milk (there are some nights where the last bottle is formula-only because he's such a piggy little eater that he went through the entire breast milk stash earlier in the day), but even if my supply goes down and we end up doing more formula than breast milk I will still feel good about the fact that for three solid months he was mostly breast fed.

Bottom line is that doing things this way makes me a much happier, less stressed out Mommy. I'm feeling good about things. That's important.

Dear Benjamin,

Dah-dah-dah-dah-dah-dah they say it's your birthday! Happy birthday to you!

Three months old birthday, that is.

You've accomplished a whole lot over the past month. It's a given now that you can reach out to swat at your toys and, in fact, you've started reaching and grabbing some, rather than just swatting. And then just last night you rolled over from your tummy (where you really don't like to be) to your back. You can also almost roll from your back to your tummy. You have a nice twisty action going on, it's just a matter of swinging your leg over. Once you realize you need to do that, you're over.

These are, as I said, huge accomplishments for a baby your age. In fact, some babies are four and five months old before they can do some of these things, so you're above average (as Mommy knew you would be :-).

Well, unfortunately I have to get back to work. (Yes, I had to go back to work full-time, which I'm none too happy about, but we need Mommy's paycheck and you do get to stay home with Daddy during the day so it's not so awful, for you anyway.) I just wanted to say HAPPY THREE MONTHS OLD!!

I love you sweet boy!!

Love,
Mommy