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.
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
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!!
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!
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.
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.
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!
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...
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...
Monday, May 19, 2008
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.
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.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Dear Benjamin,
Today, Mother's Day, you are seven months old!
Some accomplishments of the past month:
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!
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.
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!
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
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
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
Friday, April 11, 2008
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).
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
Monday, March 24, 2008
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
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
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
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
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
Monday, February 18, 2008
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.
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.
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.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
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.
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.
Monday, February 11, 2008
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
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
Sunday, February 03, 2008
Saturday, February 02, 2008
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!
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!
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!
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